The Summer of Winters (8 page)

I also spent those days thinking about Brody, and the hairclip he’d had in his pocket. About what that might mean, and what I should do about it. Several times I came close to mentioning it to my mother, but what if I was wrong? And I was sure I must be. I would be certain to end the bourgeoning friendship between Paige and myself by accusing her brother of something so vile that most people couldn’t talk about it without making a face like they were having stomach cramps.

I needed to be sure.

But how could I?

***

Wednesday night I dreamt about Brody again. I was at Thompson Park on the merry-go-round once more, only this time it was Brody who was spinning me around while he laughed loud and raucous. I begged him to stop, but he either couldn’t hear me or didn’t care. As before, I lost my grip and flew off the merry-go-round, landing in a bruised heap on the ground.

I looked up to see Brody approaching me with a smile on his face. But it wasn’t a pleasant smile. There were too many teeth in it, and they seemed to be sharpened to points. I tried to crab-walk away, but then the older boy became distracted, pausing and staring off at something behind me.

I turned and saw Sarah Winters standing by the picnic tables, her neck horribly bruised and her skin the color of curdled milk. Brody started toward her. I called for him to stop, for Sarah to run, but my voice seemed not to carry to them, and my legs no longer wanted to work.

Brody swept the girl into his arms, and it was only then that I realized that I was too late, she was already dead. Her eyes were glassy and empty, her head lolling bonelessly on her neck like that of a rag doll with half its stuffing pulled out of it, blood thick as syrup oozing down her mottled thighs.

I woke up with moisture on my face, and it took several seconds for my muddled brain to realize I’d been crying in my sleep.

***

Paige came to the house on Thursday.

I was in the bedroom playing with Ray. We had divided up his little green plastic army men and were having them wage war against one another. I heard the knock at the door and wondered who it might be. The police had told the media Sarah’s body had been discovered by two local youths but hadn’t divulged my or Paige’s name due to our being minors. I knew my mother was afraid that the information would be leaked and reporters would start hounding the house.

When I heard Julie call my name, I initially tensed, but then I told myself if it was a reporter, Julie would have told him to go do something nasty to himself, which is what I’d heard my mother tell her to say. I left Ray running over some of the army men with a tank and headed into the living room.

Paige was standing on the front stoop, dressed in a checkered dress that reminded me a little of Dorothy in
The Wizard of Oz
. Her hair was pulled up to the top of her head with a rubber band, creating a spray that looked a bit like the leafy part of a pineapple.

She smiled shyly as I came to the door. “My mom’s out in our yard keeping an eye on me, but she said I could come invite you over to our house for lunch and to play some games.”

“Is Brody there?” I asked before I could stop myself.

“Um, no. He took Mom’s car and has gone to apply for some part-time jobs around town. Why?”

“No reason.”

“So you wanna come over? We have some pretty cool games.”

“Sure, let me just ask Julie if it’s okay.”

***

At first Julie didn’t want to let me go, even though Mrs. Moore was going to be there the whole time. She finally called Mom at work and got her permission. Lunch was sandwiches made from the meatloaf they’d had for supper the night before. It was pretty tasty. The three of us sat in the living room, on the floor around the coffee table.

After we ate, we played a round of Operation, which Mrs. Moore won, then Paige insisted we play her favorite board game, Clue. I had never actually played before, and listening to Mrs. Moore explain the instructions, it seemed awfully complicated to me. I’d much rather play something like Sorry where the rules were simple to follow, but I was a guest so I went along.

The game involved systematically eliminating suspects in a fake murder case, until you could guess which of a list of characters committed the crime, as well as how and where. Honestly, the whole scenario hit a little too close to home, and I found myself feeling a bit sick to my stomach, afraid my lunch was going to come back up on me. And I was sure it wouldn’t taste as good the second time around.

I had trouble keeping my mind on the game, and more than once I made guesses that had already been made, sometimes by me. Paige ended up winning, correctly deducing Miss Scarlet was the murderess, having offed her victim with a lead pipe in the library.

Mrs. Moore checked the clock. “If Brody doesn’t get back soon, I’m going to be late for work. I wonder where that boy could be.”

I wondered the same thing, and a hundred unpleasant possibilities flashed through my mind.

A timer buzzed from the kitchen, causing me to jump, but it was just the washing machine. Mrs. Moore had started a load of laundry partway through the game, depositing the clothes in the beat-up old washer. They had no dryer, just a clothesline out back stretched between two T shaped poles.

As Mrs. Moore got up from the floor, she looked down at us with a rather stern expression on her face. “I’m going out back to hang the clothes on the line. I want you two to stay inside. You hear me?”

Paige nodded, and I said, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Keep the front door locked, and if anyone knocks, do not answer it. Can I trust you two to stay put and not get into any trouble?”

Paige rolled her eyes. “God, Mom, we’re not babies.”

Mrs. Moore ignored her daughter’s sassiness. “Watch some TV or play another game. I’ll be right back.”

After Mrs. Moore had filled the laundry basket with wet clothes and disappeared out the back door, Paige got up and I was sure she was going to defy her mother and suggest we go outside. Instead, she stood there for a moment, little blossoms of color blooming on her cheeks. “I, um, I have to go to the bathroom. You can go ahead and turn on the TV or get a soda from the kitchen.”

After I heard the bathroom door close, I got up and headed for the kitchen, but I paused halfway through the dining room that had been converted to a bedroom. Paige had told me that since the house was a two-bedroom, like ours next door, this was where Brody slept. The bed was actually the kind that folded out from a sofa, but from what I’d seen during my two visits, it just always remained out. There was a dresser shoved into the corner, and it was on it that my eyes were fixed.

Three rows of drawers, three drawers per row. Nine drawers total…nine drawers of potentially hidden secrets. I looked through the kitchen to the back door then glanced toward the bathroom down a short hallway. I certainly had only a few minutes to myself, and it would be taking one hell of a risk, but that didn’t stop my feet from shuffling me along toward the dresser. If either Paige or Mrs. Moore caught me in the act, I’d say I was looking for a piece of the bubblegum Brody bought at Buford Street Sunday. Not a perfect cover story, but it was better than saying I was looking for evidence that he’d raped and murdered a nine year old girl. But what I was really looking for was evidence that he
hadn’t
. If I could just find that hairclip, I was sure I’d see that it was more orange than pink, shaped like a giraffe instead of a horse, and what I mistook for a brown strand of hair was just a thread. I just needed to find it and be sure.

I started with the top drawer on the left side, which contained a bunch of underwear. White briefs, Fruit of the Loom. Rummaging around and finding nothing, I moved to the drawer under it, which contained more underwear, these obviously a little older with tiny holes and stains I tried not to focus on too much. The third drawer down was socks. I had just opened the top drawer of the middle row—T-shirts—when from behind me someone said, “What do you think you’re doing?”

I gasped and spun around, backing up quickly and hitting the drawer with my backside, shoving it halfway back in. Brody was standing there, and I thought distractedly that he must be a ninja to have come in so silently that I never even heard the front door open or his footsteps across the living room. He wore an expression that seemed part bafflement and part rage.

“I said, what are you doing?”

I opened my mouth to give the excuse I had concocted earlier, but in my shock and fear it had flown out of my brain, just leaving me with my mouth hanging wide open. I wanted to move, but my legs were rooted to the spot, and my bladder was suddenly achingly full. The moment stretched out like silly putty, and neither of us seemed to be breathing.

Finally Brody walked slowly across the room, and I flinched as he reached past me to close the drawer the rest of the way. He looked down at me and seemed about to speak when we heard the toilet flush and Paige came out of the bathroom.

“There you are,” she said to her brother as she came down the hall into the dining room/bedroom. “I think Mom’s on the verge of a conniption fit. You must have applied to every fast food joint and grocery store in town.”

“Uh, yeah, sorry, I stopped off at Thompson Park and did a little people watching.”

Thompson Park
, I thought.
Just full of little kids. Kids like Sarah Winters.

Paige looked from her brother to me then back to her brother. Perhaps she sensed the tension in the room, but if so she didn’t comment on it. “Mom’s out back hanging up the laundry. We’ve been playing board games. Wanna break out Monopoly? I’ll let you be the shoe.”

“I gotta go,” I blurted suddenly, headed for the archway that led into the living room.

Paige followed me to the front door. “You sure? We don’t have to play Monopoly if you’d rather play something else.”

“No, really, I gotta get back. I forgot I promised my mother I’d do…some chores before she got home.” I hoped Paige wouldn’t ask me what chores because I was drawing a blank. I was not good under pressure.

“I’ll walk you,” Brody said, stepping up next to me.

My stomach cramped like I was about to go to the bathroom. “You don’t have to. It’s just right next door.”

Brody clamped a hand on my shoulder and squeezed, so hard I thought my collar bone might snap. “It’s dangerous out there. You should know that better than anyone else. I’m going to walk you home, no argument.”

“I’ll come, too,” Paige said.

“No, you stay here,” Brody said firmly. “You know how Mom feels about you going out right now.”

“Yeah, but it’ll be okay as long as I’m with you.”

“I said stay put. I’m just going to make sure Mike here makes it safely inside. I’ll only be a minute.”

I didn’t want to go with him, but he gripped my arm and hustled me out the door. I looked back toward Paige, but she had already turned away and flipped on the TV. Brody didn’t speak as we walked the short distance to my house, but at the very edge of the property, before actually stepping into the yard, he jerked me to a halt, turned me to face him, and knelt down in front of me. He placed a hand on each shoulder, still squeezing like he was trying to get the last of the toothpaste out of the tube.

“I gotta go in now,” I said, trying to squirm loose but having no luck. “I got those chores to do.”

Brody glanced up and down the street then at my house, I guessed to make sure there was no one around to notice us, then said, “I know what you were looking for in my dresser.”

“Gum. I just wanted some gum.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Mike. I know you were looking for that hairclip that fell out of my pocket the other day.”

My throat was suddenly dry and scratchy, and I tried to swallow but couldn’t work up enough spit. I felt like if I didn’t get to the bathroom soon, I was going to wet my pants like I’d done in kindergarten once. Or twice. Fear like I had never known spread cold tendrils throughout my body. Surely Mike wouldn’t hurt me out in the open in broad daylight, but if he was truly responsible for the things that had been done to Sarah, there was no telling what else he was capable of.

Brody began to knead my shoulders, as if he were giving me a massage, only it felt more like he was trying to poke holes through my flesh. “There’s no need for you to deny it. I’ve known since Sunday that this conversation was inevitable. You must be thinking some pretty awful things about me.”

I could think of nothing to say to that, so that was exactly what I said—nothing.

“Listen Mike, thing about that hairclip is, I found it at the movie theater Saturday night. When I came back out into the lobby after using the bathroom, it was lying on the floor by the ticket booth. I picked it up, thinking I’d turn it in to management so they could put it in the lost and found or whatever, but then through the glass doors I saw that bully messing with you so I just stuck the hairclip in my pocket. I kind of forgot about it, and the next day when I got dressed, it was mixed in with my change from the night before and I just grabbed it up with the coins. That’s why I had it.”

Here Brody paused and looked intently into my eyes, as if trying to judge my reaction to his story. I wasn’t sure if my expression conveyed skepticism or doubt as I couldn’t seem to control my facial muscles. He seemed to want some response so I just mumbled, “Uh-huh.”

“So you see, I had absolutely no way of knowing that hairclip belonged to Sarah Winters. Then after you and Paige found her body…well, I was scared to tell anybody about the hairclip because I thought they might suspect me of having done those terrible things to that little girl. Just like you did.”

I stammered for a moment. “I, um, I just…well, I kinda thought…”

“Yeah, I know what you thought. It’s okay though, it’s what anyone would think. So I panicked and threw the hairclip out. I know I probably should have given it to the police, but it wasn’t like it was really evidence or anything. I mean, I found it
before
she got abducted. I just don’t want people looking at me the way you’ve been looking at me, like I’m some kind of psycho perv or something.”