The Gingerbread Boy (18 page)

“Watch where you’re going!” A voice said as someone dodged around her. Startled, Catherine spun to make a quick apology, and then stopped altogether at the sight of the person.

Of all people today, she had to barge into Beth.

Beth stopped, too, and stood glaring at her beneath a polka-dot umbrella.

“You’re losing it, aren’t you Sealey,” she said. “Ever since Daniel disappeared.”

Catherine rolled her eyes and turned to walk on.

The rain came down harder.

“You just can’t admit I was right, can you?” Beth called after her.

Catherine stopped and turned slowly around to gaze at the smug roommate who’d been such constant grief over the past year.

Beth must have been feeling even nastier and more cantankerous than usual. Her insults would not stop.

“No matter where Daniel is, people will still know you as ‘sleazy Sealey,’ It’s hard to ditch a nickname especially one that rhymes. It’s embarrassing to live with you. Next thing you know, your antics will be on the cover of the ‘Black Sheep’,” she added, referring to the off-color college newspaper Catherine couldn’t stand.

Catherine’s jaw tightened as she struggled to overcome the woman’s insults. Her cheeks burned and the weight of the books in her backpack became unbearable.

“What is the matter with you, Sealey?” Beth asked. “Feeling the backlash from being used? Most people believe you like it.”

That did it. “Beth Shaker, you are the most detestable person I have ever known,” she said, scrunching her books tightly in her arms. “You think I was used? Look at you! You usually have three or four ‘so-called’ boyfriends at a time. What do they want with you but free rides in a luxury car and the possibility of getting at your money? You’re the one
I’m
embarrassed to live with. I should have left you in the hallway where Cave Pig could have found you that night!”

Beth’s face drained of color. She stared at Catherine, mute. Her eyelashes began to bat in belated reaction to the sting. At last the paleness left her face and a hideous crimson color settled in.

“At least
my
men don’t run away from me and hide,” Beth seethed, her umbrella cocked sideways enough so that rain streaked across one side of her face. “Actually, it’s no wonder Daniel did that to you he has so much more going for him than what a mousy little wretch like you could offer. I don’t blame him one bit for running, Catherine. Running into the arms of someone who can handle him. Someone like
me
!”

Catherine’s jaw fell. “What?”

Beth crossed her arms. “Daniel needs a woman who’ll treat him like a man. He needs a
true
woman. Like me.”

Catherine’s heart slammed against her chest. She took several steps until she was standing directly in front of her roommate, glaring at her eye to eye. Several passersby stared curiously at the confrontation, craning their necks to hear.

“Daniel may be hard to understand,” Catherine said in barely a whisper,” but he would never,
ever
go for a whore like you.”

Beth’s jaw dropped. Her eyes bulged. She drew back her hand and slapped Catherine with a sound so sharp it echoed across campus.

Students slowed to watch. Many stopped altogether.

Catherine took a long, deep breath. She brought her hand up to trace her stinging cheek. There was complete, utter silence. Even the sound of the rain muffled into insignificance.

Weeks of pain and frustration were compressed into the fist that sent Beth sprawling into the mud next to the sidewalk. Her polka dot umbrella spun several feet away and the rain beat down on her head like seaweed plastered over a rock. Catherine grinned slightly as she looked up, and noticed that the huge “Sparty” statue, the MSU mascot of a Spartan warrior carrying his helmet seemed to be gazing down in contempt at Beth as well.

“You belong down there!” Catherine cried, “Down there with the worms!”

Then she spun around, pushed through the laughing crowd, and stomped away.

****

It took several hours before Catherine could go home and stand before her own doorway. She stood rigid, staring at the doorknob with disdain. Beth lived in that house. That nauseating woman. Catherine wondered what horrors awaited her. Finally, dragging in a deep breath, determined to master her temper and handle whatever lay ahead with more control this time, she twisted the doorknob and walked in.

A rainstorm of streamers and confetti flooded the air.

“Hooray!” Joanne shouted before her, bouncing in delight. She continued to shower Catherine with party paraphernalia from a dish in her hand. Overhead, a huge, crudely painted banner declared, in twelve-inch letters, “SHE’S GONE!” Beneath it, on the sideboard, sat a large cake decorated with a familiar white dog doing a happy dance, his nose tipped high in the air. A bottle of wine and two goblets rested next to it. Beyond that, Penny sat alone on the couch with her hands folded between her knees, looking abandoned.

“What’s going on?” Catherine asked. She set her books on an end table and peeled off her jacket, eyes wide in astonishment.

Joanne continued to fling confetti at Catherine until the dish was emptied. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks rosy from excitement. She clasped her hands together in delight.

“Beth’s
gone
,” she giggled deliriously. “A couple of guy friends of hers came over a few hours ago and cleaned out all of her stuff
.
They left without a word even to Penny. She moved, Catherine. The witch is finally gone!”

Catherine’s mind spun.

“I don’t know what made her do it and I don’t even care,” Joanne continued, “but she’s out of our lives at last. It may have taken most of the school year, but she’s finally, utterly, irreversibly GONE.”

Catherine glanced over Joanne’s shoulder to where Penny still sat on the couch, staring blankly in front of her.

“Penny will come around,” Joanne said, taking Catherine’s arm leading her toward the wine. She lowered her voice. “She might even morph into a real human being, not just Beth’s ‘yes-yes’ android.”

Catherine attempted a smile. That much was reassuring. She’d always thought there might be a real person buried inside of Penny.

“Well? Aren’t you ecstatic?” Joanne cried. “Beth won’t be tormenting you any more! Moving out is the first decent thing she’s done since she moved in.”

A dozen emotions clashed inside of Catherine, making it impossible to think. Yes. Of course she wa
s
glad Beth was gone! It should have made her ecstatic. Yet she almost felt guilty. Guilty, and confused over why she felt that way.

“It’s my fault Beth moved out,” she finally said, accepting a small glass of wine Joanne handed her. “I think I did it, Jo. She left because of me”

Joanne’s eyebrows knitted together. “What?”

“I knocked her on her butt in the mud this morning in front of the Sparty statue.

Joanne’s eyes grew as big as donuts. Beyond, Catherine noticed Penny’s head lift a little.

Catherine sighed. “She deserved it. She was on me like a bad smell. I couldn’t take it any more. She implied that she knew where Daniel was, and that
she
was the one keeping him
busy.
”

Joanne groaned. “I sure hope you knocked out a few teeth and gave her the fat lips she’s always wanted! If you hadn’t done it, sooner or later I would have.” She wiggled her rear end speculatively. “Just one slam from my wide world of sports would have sent her out the front door without ever opening it.” Finally, calming, she looked deep into Catherine’s eyes. “You don’t actually believe what she implied about Daniel, do you?”

“Oh no,” Catherine rushed to say. “That’s ludicrous. It was just one final, desperate stab.”

Joanne peered closely at her. “Are you
sure
you don’t believe it?”

“Positive.”

“Well then, good! Have a sip of bubbly. Let’s celebrate!”

“Would you mind if I take a shower first?” Catherine asked. “I feel pretty gross – caught in the rain earlier and all.”

Joanne raised a finger and wagged it in Catherine’s face. “Just as long as it’s not one of those depression showers or baths.”

“No not this time. I’m recovering, Joanne. I am.”

“Okay then. See you soon.”

Catherine smiled. “Thanks. This little party is a treat. You’re a good friend, Jo.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s my nature.”

Catherine grinned convincingly at her friend, then scurried up the stairway to her bedroom and fell face first on her bed, sobbing quietly into the sheets.

She hadn’t believed what Beth had said. She was merely crying for joy that Beth was gone, and thankful for having such a cherished friend as Joanne. That was all the tears were about.

Of course she hadn’t believed Beth’s insinuations. The insinuations were absurd.

Ridiculous.

Preposterous!

No matter where Daniel was, and what he was doing, he would never, ever fall for someone as evil and conniving as Beth Shaker. Catherine turned over and stared at the ceiling, wiping her eyes. She had a shower to take. A celebration to attend.

Then came the voice in her ear.
Men are vipers, Catherine, vipers
.

Chapter Seventeen

The screams came from all directions. Daniel pressed deeper into the depths of the jungle, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Would they find him?

He was not afraid of spirits when his mother and father were nearby, but they were far from him now. He had no idea where they were – he had no idea where
he
was.

He prayed the sun would rise soon, casting golden beams of light across the tree-choked, mountain horizon.

He knew spirits couldn’t get you in the light.

The screaming became louder. Nearer. It swelled in Daniel’s ears, overpowering every other horror in the surrounding jungle. He shrank into himself, pinching his eyes shut. Clasping his arms around his knees, he froze into a tiny ball beneath the foliage. He scarcely dared breathe, lest they hear him. If he somehow came out of this, he would never run again, never. He’d face up to his troubles like a man.

And his father would be proud.

If he somehow came out of this.

The screaming was directly overhead now.

Wailing, Daniel sprang up. He ran blindly, rocketing through a labyrinth of leaves and vines until he burst into a small clearing at the edge of the jungle. He scanned the scene before him with bulging eyes.

Nowhere to hide, nowhere to…

The screaming was right behind him now.

Rooted to his spot, Daniel slowly turned his head…

…to see two scaly-faced spirits soaring at him, wicked-eyed monsters with wide-open, hooked mouths.

Daniel shut his eyes and collapsed.

And then glorious light brightened the inside of his eyelids, and the screaming disappeared.

Silence. Heart still racing, Daniel slowly opened his eyes.

A pair of blue-jean clad legs came into focus before him.

“Dad? Is that you?” Daniel asked weakly.

“Where have you been?” asked a male voice, its tone tinged with panic.

Daniel’s eyes widened. The mountains and jungles melted away as he tilted his head upward to travel over the length of a long, thin body in front of him. Finally the man’s face came into view.

Joey.

Joey had turned the lights on in the house.

Joey flung his arms in the air, spun in a circle. “What is this mess? What have you done to yourself, Daniel? You look like death warmed over.”

Without giving Daniel a chance to reply, Joey bent down and grasped a beer can lying on the carpet. He pushed it into Daniel’s face. “Since when have you started drinking? These cans are everywhere! What is wrong with you?”

The words across the beer can came slowly into focus, seeming a foot high before Daniel’s eyes.

“Did you realize that ‘Stroh’s’ spelled backward is ‘shorts’?” he asked softly.

Joey’s eyes rounded. Enraged, he straightened, flung back his arm and hurtled the can against the living room wall. Some remaining fluid splattered out of the can to dribble like tears across the plaster.

“I was relieved to find you weren’t a demon coming to get me,” Daniel said loosely, “Now I’m not so sure what you are.”

Joey reached down, grasped Daniel’s hands, and pulled him to his feet. Staggering, Daniel wilted back against the wall, his eyes vacant. Joey stood back and stared at Daniel in exasperation.

“What time is it?” Daniel mumbled.

Joey glanced at his watch. “Almost ten o’clock at night. How long have you been home? How long have you…” suddenly he stopped, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. When he continued, his voice was calmer.

“What happened to you?”

Still collapsed against the wall, Daniel looked past Joey to the wet splatter mark from the beer. He gestured toward it. “What do those splatter marks on the wall remind you of?”

Confused, Joey turned to look. He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s just a blob. What does it look like to you?”

Daniel paused before replying. Darkness passed over his eyes.

“It looks like a car,” Daniel replied. “A sleek, sporty car. Beautiful to look at, but useless. It’s got a failing transmission. No one can repair it.”

Joey’s eyebrows furrowed as Daniel continued.

“You have to re-name the band,” Daniel said. “Make it just The Front. Putting my name in it always seemed too pompous, anyway. And you should convince Burr-Head to sing. He’s got a great voice when he opens up. People will like him.”

Joey’s face paled.

“Don’t give up on the band, Joey. We all have the same dreams. They can still be made into reality. The world needs you.” He took a breath. “I’d — I’d like for you to watch Yoo-Hoo for me, too. You’re the only one he trusts, beside mom and Catherine.”

Joey grasped a chair for balance. “Mowgli. Tell me you’ve decided to move back to South America. Tell me that’s what this is all about.”

Daniel sighed, his eyes lowering to the floor. It seemed hours before he regained enough composure to look back into Joey’s eyes.