Terror (11 page)

“Come on, Gaia.” It was Liz's voice from just outside the dressing room. “Get out here. The suspense is killing me.”

“All right, all right,” Gaia said, trying to sound a little beleaguered by all this girlie business. She smoothed the dress with her palms and let out a big sigh. She opened the dressing-room door and walked toward Liz.

“Wow!” Liz said. “Look at you!”

Gaia dropped her eyes, suddenly self-conscious. “You like it?”

“It's incredible,” Liz said. “Come out here and let Deirdre see.”

Fighting off the temptation to run back into the dressing room, Gaia followed Liz into the store. The second she saw Deirdre, she stopped, unsure of how to present herself. She had seen women come out of dressing rooms and do a little twirl for their onlookers, but Gaia would just as soon have jumped off a bridge. So she stood there, her lips pressed together, trying to look up and to the right at nothing in particular.

“Very nice,” Deirdre said. “A work of art, if I do say so my damn self.” She laughed at her own joke. “Turn around.”

Gaia turned robotically, uncomfortable being viewed as an object. She noticed that a few shoppers, older women, had stopped to check her out. Great. Gaia turned back around. As nice as this dress was, she would
really rather go take it off now. “So what do you think?”

“Gorgeous. Stunning,” Deirdre said.

“The mind reels,” Liz added.

“You're, like, the hottest of Charlie's Angels.”

“Seventies supergoddess.”

“Okay, enough,” Gaia said. “Say no more. I'm sold. This is like the quickest dress-shopping trip I've ever been on.”

“I thought you'd never shopped for a dress before,” Liz said.

Gaia smiled. “There's that.”

“Well, great. Glad to be of service,” Deirdre said. “Do you need shoes to go with it?”

“Let's not push our luck,” Gaia answered. “No reason to tamper with such a painless shopping experience. Besides, I think I've got some shoes to go with.” It was basically a lie, but three hundred and fifty bucks was already a huge money drain, at least until her dad sent his next check. Looked like she'd be living off pizza for a week or two. If she got shoes, she would have to eat peanut butter and jelly for the rest of the month.

“Got it,” Deirdre said, laughing. “No problem.”

Gaia walked back toward the dressing room, feeling strangely satisfied with herself. For a few fleeting minutes, soon to end, she was almost like a real, honest-to-goodness member of the female species. And it had been almost—dare she say it?—comforting. Pathetic as that doubtless
was. Gaia Moore, buyer of dresses, denizen of fabulous boutiques. Was it possible? She shuddered at the thought. Was she finally going to make her long-awaited entrance into the world of normal girlhood?

Not bloody likely,
Gaia thought.

The final image was of the knife slicing an X into Gaia's flesh, vivid as day.

GAIA WALKED INTO HER MINUSCULE room and threw her shopping bag on the bed. She was feeling good. Something about hanging out with Liz Rodke always seemed to lift her mood. It had all the benefits of hanging out with the FOHs, but without all the soul-sucking superficiality and gossip. Liz was a real girl, but witty and more optimistic than Gaia, so she kept things light. And she had somehow orchestrated the only decent shopping experience in Gaia's recent memory—no small feat.

The blinking light on the answering machine caught her eye. Looked like she had two new messages. She reached across her bed and pressed play.

“Hey, Gaia. This is Jake. I just stopped by your place and Sukee or whatever her name is wouldn't let me in. Anyway, I'm worried about you, so give me a ring when you get a chance.”

Worried? Why would he be worried? Gaia pressed play again.

“Hey, Gaia. Me again. Just seeing if you got home yet. Give me a call.”

Gaia grabbed the phone and punched in Jake's number. He picked up on the second ring.

“Gaia,” he said. “Thank God. There you are.”

“Hi, Jake,” she said. “I'm so sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. I've been out with Liz—”

“Listen, I don't mean to be rude, but I've been frantically looking for you. I had a really scary run-in this afternoon. I think we should talk.”

“Who did you see?” Gaia asked.

“I'll tell you when we meet. I'd like to be with you right now, Gaia, if you don't mind.”

“Sounds good to me,” Gaia said. “Where are you? I'll come to you.”

“I'll in the East Village. I'll walking toward the corner of Houston and Orchard.”

“That's perfect,” Gaia said. “I'm starving. I could meet you right near there, at Katz's Deli. Best pastrami sandwiches in the galaxy. How about we meet there in like twenty minutes?”

There was a long pause. Gaia realized that considering how late she'd been last night for dinner, her word on arrival times probably didn't hold much weight. “It's easy. I can just hop on the F train at Fourteenth and take it down to the Second Avenue stop.”

“How about I come pick you up at home and we can walk to the deli together?”

Huh?
Gaia pulled the phone away from her face and looked at it, confused. “Well, that's sweet, Jake, but it would be absurd for you to come all the way across town, from the East to the West Village, and then go all the way back. I'll just meet you there.”

“We could eat somewhere close to your place, then,” Jake said.

Why was he so adamant about coming to her? Men were so confusing sometimes. “The thing is, now that I've got my mind and stomach set on Katz's pastrami, I just have to have some. Suko won't let you in if you come here anyway, and I need to get out of this room.”

“Okay,” Jake said. “That's cool.”

“Have you ever been to Katz's?”

“No.”

“See, now, that pretty much qualifies as a mortal sin. All carnivores should visit Katz's at least once in their life. If you're a carnivore and you don't want to end up in hell, then meet me there in twenty minutes.”

Jake laughed. “Make it thirty minutes. Just in case.”

“Fine,” Gaia said.

“And be safe,” Jake said. “Maybe you should take a cab.”

“But it's so easy on the F line,” Gaia said.

“Please. For me. Take a cab. I'll pay for it.”

“Okay. We'll see. Bye, Jake.”

“Thanks, Gaia. Bye.”

JAKE HAD THOROUGHLY EXAMINED each piece of memorabilia in the front window of Katz's Delicatessen. He had inspected the rows of
hard salami hanging there and read the slogan “Send a salami to your boy in the army” about three hundred times. He had read the thank-you letters from Ronald Reagan and Bill Clinton and learned that the bald, bearded guy in the pictures was the owner and that his name wasn't Mr. Katz. He had given the homeless guy on the corner change and had a chat with him about the gentrification of the Lower East Side. But he was running out of distractions now. He was starting to really worry, and Gaia was only three minutes late. He'd promised himself he wouldn't look down at his cell phone, at least for another few minutes. He was trying to focus his mental energy on getting her here safely.

On impulse, he turned away from the window to check out the people walking along Houston Street. The Lower East Side was a random conglomeration of sloppily dressed hipsters, local Latinos, and bleary-eyed nomads. Amidst the sea of tattoos, Jake spotted a familiar patch of blond hair bobbing up and down. What a relief. He had begun to worry that he'd made a fatal flaw in not insisting on picking her up. She was only three minutes late. But when he thought about what Oliver had said, leaving her unsupervised for so long could be considered flippant.

The patch of blond expanded slowly into a clearer, more complete picture of Gaia. There was the face, the braids, and now the whole phenomenal package. It jogged right up to him and planted a kiss on his
cheek.
I'm a lucky man.
Jake grabbed Gaia and hugged her close. He took a deep pull of her scent. It was a mix of lavender, a touch of deodorant, and Gaia smell. Jake held her until she started squirming.

“Oh, man.” Gaia pulled away from him, breathless. She looked at the ground and blushed hard. Jake registered it as instance number forty-seven of recent un-Gaia-like behavior. “Sorry I'm late again. I just had a subway ride from Hades. They stopped the train for a police investigation.”

“I thought you were going to take a cab,” Jake said.

“I know. But it's so easy to use the F. I'm sorry.”

“I'm just glad you're here.” Jake reached out and rested his hand on Gaia's shoulder. “I've been really worried about you, Gaia.”

Gaia's head jolted back. “Why?”

Jake could see that she really was unaware of how dangerous her life was. It was endearing in a way, but also scary. “Well, to be honest,” Jake said, “the other night I felt like those guys who attacked us were specifically after you. Did they steal something from you?”

“No,” Gaia said. “That guy ripped out my ponytail holder, though.”

“Really?” Jake held open the door for Gaia. “Weird.” They stopped at a booth just inside the door. A man handed Gaia two tickets.

“What're the tickets for?” Jake asked.

“It's cafeteria style.” Gaia said. “They write everything you order on the ticket.”

“Oh.” Jake took a long look at the deli's interior. Not too extravagant. On the right-hand side were lines of people in front of counters, behind which cleaver-wielding men in white hats were hacking at slabs of meat. Three vertical stripes of table rows went back the length of a football field. The wall to the left, facing the butchers, was filled with framed photos. The tables' wooden veneers were peeling off. The chairs were these cheap, rickety wooden things that looked like they'd been there since the seventies. The floor was littered with napkins and straw wrappers. Since it was famous in spite of the semisqualid conditions, Jake assumed the food must really be good.

“Hey, listen. I'm sorry I nagged you to take a cab,” Jake said. “It's just that I feel like those guys from the park aren't done with you yet. Like someone in their crew is watching you.”

“Well, that's sweet of you, Jake. But I think I'll be okay. It's actually not the first time someone's come after me.”

“If you say so.” Jake said. “Hey, are we in line here?” Clusters of people were crowded in front of them, craning their necks to get a look at what was being sliced. There seemed to be no logical system intact.

“They don't really do the single-file thing here. Our best bet is to pick one of these butcher guys,
stand in front of him, and just sort of squeeze closer.”

Jake put his hand on Gaia's forearm. “Did you ever see
When Harry Met Sally?”

“I might have,” Gaia said. “Why?”

He pointed to a sign hanging from the ceiling. It had an arrow pointing to the table below it and an inscription:
Where Harry met Sally… Hope you have what she had! Enjoy!

“Oh, right,” Gaia said. “The fake orgasm scene.”

“Exactly.”

“So how come no one's sitting at that table?” Gaia asked. “I figured that would be prime real estate.”

Jake shrugged. He looked up at the menu, which was painted in little squares on the wall above the counter. “I think I'm gonna get the tongue-and-eggs platter,” he said, laughing.

“Wow. I've never noticed that. I can't believe that's actually offered. Honestly, though, I hope you're planning on trying the pastrami. I've tried just about every sandwich but the tongue. And you have to trust me on the pastrami.”

“Oh, I do, do I? I have to trust you?” Jake gave Gaia a long and pregnant look to let her know that it was a loaded question. Searching her light blue eyes for dishonesty, Jake found only a sincere and jarring vulnerability. “Because sometimes I wonder.”

“You shouldn't,” she said.

“Good to hear.”

It was their turn to order. Gaia leaned against the counter and smiled at the butcher. It was clear from the man's flashing eyes that he was charmed.
Beautiful women have the world in the palm of their hand,
Jake thought. He took note of how powerful Gaia's presence was. His mood had done a full one-hundred-and-eighty-degree reversal since she had arrived.

“I would like the pastrami on rye, please.” Gaia turned around. “What do you want, Jake?”

Jake smiled at her. “The same.”

“Two pastramis,” the man said. “Excellent choice.” He walked over to a metal bin, lifted the lid, and pulled out a giant slab of what looked like black meat. Bizarre. He walked back over and started slicing away with his knife. He put a few slices of pastrami on a small white dish and set it on the counter in front of them.

“Let me know how it tastes,” he said.

Gaia grabbed a slice and handed the other one to Jake. Jake popped it in his mouth. “Mmm” he said involuntarily. It was soft and warm and tasty and more tender than a piece of meat had any right to be.

“How is it?” the butcher asked.

“Succulent,” Gaia said.

“Tasty,” Jake agreed.

“That's what we like to hear.” The butcher started cutting the meat into neat diagonal slices. Jake was mesmerized by the flash of the man's blade. He stared at it so closely that his mind started to wander. It raced
back to the look on that kid's face in the park when he was slicing the air.
You want a little taste of death?
the dude had asked. A blur of images followed, from Gaia running away from the thugs to him finding her in the bushes. The final image was of the knife slicing an
X
into Gaia's flesh, vivid as day. Jake shivered.