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Authors: Mark J. Ferrari

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BOOK: The Book of Joby
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Laura studied him for a moment in the dim light, then nodded. “I didn’t think so,” she said, managing to sound both satisfied and apologetic at the same time.

“Well,” Ben said, grinning in embarrassment, hoping the light was too dim for her to see him blush, “I guess she’s got appearances to think about.” He shrugged ruefully, still grinning. “Probably hasn’t done my rep any harm either. Maybe I should get her some kind of little thank-you gift.”

“I’m sorry, Ben,” Laura said, laying a hand gently on his arm. “I knew she was lying. Really.”

“Yeah,” Ben sighed, “well, I guess while we’re bein’ all honest like this, I should admit that it’s not like I haven’t come plenty close a few times—like, every other day.” He shook his head. “The thing is, I just can’t ever figure out what I’m gonna say to her afterward. ‘I love you. No wait, that’s a lie’? What we have is fun enough, Laura, but I just can’t see going any further until I have
some
plan I can at least pretend to believe in about the ‘ever after’ part.” He looked up at Laura’s shadowed face, realizing how much he trusted her, and, in contrast, how little he had ever trusted Rebecca. So little, in fact, that he really wasn’t that disappointed, or even surprised, by what Laura had told
him. “I’d never risk saying this to anyone but you, Laura, but I think I’m going to wait until I’ve found someone I really love, or at least really think I love.”

“So,” she said, almost timidly, after a lengthy pause. “That brings us back to my question. If not Kevin and Rebecca, who?”

Ben looked away, aching to keep on being as honest as they’d suddenly become for just one more moment. But, as with Rebecca, he couldn’t quite kid himself into dismissing what he knew was true—even in pursuit of what he wanted.

“I’d leave Rebecca for you in a heartbeat, Laura,” he said soberly, “if I really thought your heart wasn’t already spoken for.” He turned to look her in the eye again. “Just tell me you’re all done waiting for Joby, and I’ll go put Rebecca’s hand in Kevin’s right this minute.” He looked back into the crowd around the pool. “Hell. She’d probably go for it without a thought. Kevin’s car’s more tricked-out than mine. And Kevin’s the
senior
varsity quarterback. Rebecca won’t mind tradin’ up.” He looked back at Laura. “So, are
you
offerin’, Ms. Bayer? . . . Cross your heart and swear on Arthur’s sacred sword?”

To his horror, Ben realized that Laura was crying.

“Oh my God,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms without thinking. “What is it? What’s wrong? Did I do this? I didn’t mean to.”

She shook her head against his shoulder. “What if Joby never gets it?” she whispered back, her voice trembling as she cried. “Am I just supposed to wait forever? It’s like you could hit him with a shovel, and he wouldn’t even notice.”

Ignoring the pang of disappointment he felt at hearing what he’d always known confirmed, Ben just said, “Have you tried?”

“What!” she said, hiccupping a laugh, and disentangling herself from his embrace with a quick glance around them to see who might be looking. “You mean really hit him with a shovel?” She laughed again, wiping at her eyes. “Well, no. I’m not sure that would really work so well.”

“Sometimes, that’s exactly what guys like Joby need,” Ben said. “As usual, you’re way ahead of us all, Laura. I haven’t got a clue who my real match is, and Joby hasn’t got a clue about, well, much of anything. But you’ve known what your heart wants for years. He’s a dense son of a bitch, but he’s like a brother to me, and, pitiful as it is to say, I think you’d better stop waiting for him to step up to bat, and just make the things you want happen. If that
takes a shovel, it’d give me more satisfaction than you know to lend you ours from home. It’s pretty big,” he added with a lopsided grin. “Oughta hurt enough to make even Joby notice.”

 

Mentally rehearsing her lines, Laura rang the bell and waited. Taking Ben’s advice, she had decided to throw pride to the wind and take the direct approach. She heard footsteps on the hardwood inside, and braced herself as Joby opened the door.

“Laura! . . . What are you doing here?”

“Was I supposed to make an
appointment
?” So much for her lines.

“No!” Joby apologized. “I didn’t . . . I just meant, well, you know. School’s out and all, so I just didn’t expect . . .”

It was all she could do not to roll her eyes. She decided she’d better just get on with it before things got worse.

“Diane Kelty invited me to her pool party next Saturday. I was wondering if you would go with me.”

Joby looked startled. “What about Kevin?”

“Kevin and I aren’t together anymore.”

“Why not?” Joby asked, looking concerned.

“Oh, for
Pete’s sake,
Joby. Will you go with me or not?” This wasn’t going at all like she’d hoped.

“Well . . . sure,” he said, sounding dazed. “I mean, I should ask my mom, I guess. You wanna come in for a minute?”

She nodded, and stepped inside as Joby jogged off to get his mother. Something smelled wonderful. She looked around the entranceway, wondering why Joby needed permission to attend a
daytime
party.

“Hello, Laura!” Mrs. Peterson smiled as she came from the kitchen. “It’s been such a long time! Can you come in for a minute? I’ve just finished a batch of cookies. I’d love to catch up on what you’ve been doing!”

“Thanks,” Laura said. “I’d be crazy to turn down anything that smells
that
good.”

Mrs. Peterson looked pleased as she led Laura and her son toward the living room, where a plate of M&M oatmeal cookies was already laid out on the coffee table.

“Have a seat,” Mrs. Peterson offered, settling onto the couch.

Laura sat down beside her, while Joby sat across the room in a rocking chair by the fireplace.

“Joby says you’ve invited him to a party,” Mrs. Peterson said, handing her a cookie. “That’s very nice of you. Where’s it going to be?”

“It’s a pool party at Diane Kelty’s house. She lives up on Viewline Drive.”

“Oh! That’s a very nice neighborhood, isn’t it,” Mrs. Peterson said brightly. “I’ll bet they have a
lovely
home! What time will it be over?”

“It’s an afternoon barbecue,” Laura said. “It’ll be over before dinner.”

“So, it won’t go after dark?” Mrs. Peterson pressed.

Laura shook her head. No wonder Joby still looked so young. His mother had probably forbidden him to age. “I have other plans that evening, so I won’t be staying even if it does. I’ll have Joby back by five thirty at the latest.”

“Oh! You’re
driving
now?” Mrs. Peterson said, sounding astonished.

“No. But I will be by the time school starts. My parents are really tired of having to drive me around all the time,” Laura said, thinking,
Hint, hint.
“My mom can take us to the party though, and bring us back.”

“Well.” Mrs. Peterson smiled. “It sounds like lots of fun, Laura.” She turned to Joby. “It’s fine with me, dear.”

Joby smiled with what seemed relief. “When should I be ready?” he asked Laura.

“We’ll pick you up at noon,” she answered, suddenly afraid of saying something stupid and blowing the whole deal. “I hate to eat and run, Mrs. Peterson. The cookies are great, but I have to get my hair cut, and I’m walking, so I’d better go.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” Mrs. Peterson said warmly.

Laura stood and looked at Joby. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

“Okay. Should I bring some food or anything?”

“Just a beach towel,” Laura flashed him a flirtatious smile, “and plenty of suntan lotion.”

Joby looked surprised, then a little flushed, and Laura turned to go, reassured to see that maybe he was not completely dense.

 

“Well, why not?” Lucifer demanded. “It’s been over two years, and he still looks like a choirboy!”

“We’ve tampered about as much as we can without killing him,” Kallaystra protested. “He just doesn’t age any faster. What are we supposed to do, put him on the rack and stretch him?”

“Don’t be obstinate with me,” Lucifer warned humorlessly.

“My heartfelt apologies, Bright One,” she said in flawless imitation of contrition. “It is just that I share your frustration. I begin to wonder, as you
did from the start, whether his condition indicates some new threat to our campaign.”

“Oh, mark my words,” Lucifer said with unconcealed rancor, “the Enemy is behind this in some way. This boy was not chosen for being unremarkable. The question we seem still to have failed at answering is, ‘Remarkable in just how many ways?’ ”

For a moment, Lucifer simply paced his office, massaging his temples. Then he said, “For now, we’ll do the best we can with what little you’ve achieved. Tell the Triangle to dispense with all his physical handicaps. Perhaps if he discovers sports again he will at least put on some muscle tone.”

“Might that not revive his self-esteem as well?” Kallaystra dared hazard.

For the first time during their meeting, Lucifer chuckled. “Not if our esteemed counselor has done his job. If, after all these years of conditioning, Joby retains any capacity to see beauty in his own form, I’ll have your friend Malcephalon’s hide for it. Feel free to tell him I said so, should you feel inclined.”

 

“I think that’s it then,” Father Richter said. “Thank you for your help, Joby.”

“No problem,” Joby replied, looking around, hoping they’d overlooked something. He’d stayed to help clean up after the youth group meeting because there was something he needed to discuss with the priest, but he still hadn’t quite worked up the courage to begin. “Can I help you carry those back to the priory?” Joby asked, reaching for the small stack of songbooks tucked between Father Richter’s folded arms.

“I’m not
that
old yet,” Father Richter said. His smile became concerned. “Is something the matter, Joby?”

Joby looked up and opened his mouth, but no words were in it.

“I’ve plenty of time, if there’s something on your mind,” the priest insisted. “Why don’t we walk back to the priory?”

Joby and Laura had been “together” for over a month. He could still hardly believe that she was dating
him
instead of
Kevin Branscom,
or that Kevin hadn’t beaten him to a pulp over it, though he’d heard that Kevin was already dating a cheerleader named Cherryl Bassetti. Nonetheless, Joby’s inexplicable good fortune had not arrived without its catches.

Whatever his classmates thought, Joby’s body had awakened long ago to the possibilities of sex just like everyone else’s. The dreams, the sensations, the private experiments; Joby had greeted them all with enthusiastic if carefully concealed curiosity at first. Then, lying in bed one morning two summers back,
enjoying the afterglow of one of those still very novel “test runs,” the memory of Father Morgan’s words during Joby’s first trip to St. Albee’s Church years before had suddenly returned to him from nowhere.

BOOK: The Book of Joby
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