Light of Day (32 page)

“I'm having nightmares about it.”

“I can't even fall asleep long enough to have any.”

“Yeah, nighttime's the worst.”

“Being alone in the dark,” Danny said. “I can see him hanging there, and the way he swung back at us and then—I can't stop thinking what he must have thought when it happened. I mean, you think you're scared, imagine what he—”

“I don't want to think about it.” C.J.'s voice was shaking.

In the cafeteria, the four boys would sit together, doing their best to keep themselves separate from the rest of the kids.

Rick's eyes looked sunken, he was more restless than usual, popping out of his seat and quickly sitting back down, unable to keep his feet or hands still. “Do you think it shows?” he asked the others. “You know, do you think they can tell—”

“I think we look okay,” Brian said, “you know, normal.”

Rick said, “I mean, like my folks—my mom practically takes my temperature by the hour. She thinks I'm in
love
.”

“What?”

“She says I seem different. She asked me if I was in love. So I'm going along with it.”

Brian said, “Yeah, I know. My mom and dad think I'm worried about Outward Bound and I'm like, ‘Oh, maybe just a little.' They're taking me to Indianapolis next Saturday to buy gear for Hurricane Island.” His voice sounded strained, and he kept glancing around the room while he spoke.

“At least they notice,” C.J. mumbled. “My folks are totally oblivious.”

“I just want school to be over so I can get out of here,” Brian told them.

“What the hell are we
doing
?” Danny said. “How can we be sitting here talking like this?” His teeth were clenched. “We're all crazy.” He jumped up and quickly walked out of the cafeteria.

 

When Danny wasn't on the bus Tuesday afternoon, Rick wondered if “maybe he's gone over to tell his dad.”

C.J. was certain that Danny would never do such a thing. “He probably went home. He just wants to be left alone.”

“What makes you so fucking smart?” Rick asked him.

Brian told Rick to “cut it out.”

The boys stopped by the house but Danny wasn't there. They went looking for him, riding around town and across campus. There weren't any of Brian's assurances now or brave talk, only the solemn feeling of unreality, as though they were living a life more dangerous than any of them had been prepared for.

They found Danny's bike at the ruins and spotted Danny walking along the road by the river.

“What are you doing out here?” Brian asked.

“I wanted to be alone.”

“I don't know if that's such a good idea,” Brian told him. “Being by your—”

“I need to think.”

“You don't want to get too inside your head,” Rick warned him.

“Yeah. Come on, Danny,” Brian said. “It's going to be okay.”

“My dad told me that memory is what keeps people moral,” Danny answered.

“What's that mean?” Rick asked. C.J. said, “Being able to remember the bad things you do is supposed to keep you from doing them in the first place.”

“Yeah, well, I wish I could forget it, at least for a little while,” Brian said.

Rick nodded his head. “But still, Danny, I don't think your dad would want us to spend the rest of our lives in jail.”

“That's not what—you still don't get it yet, do you?” Danny said.

“You know what I'm afraid of,” C.J. said. “That it's totally a trick to catch us. I mean, like how they still haven't found him? What if they have, and the police know he was, you know—and they have a pretty good idea who did it and everything? What if—”

“Will you stop saying shit like that,” Brian snapped at him. “This is bad enough without you—we're going to be all right.”

But C.J. didn't stop. “Only they aren't sure. So everybody's decided not to tell, and they're just waiting to trap us, like a sting or something. When we least expect it, they'll close the trap.”

“Stop it,”
Brian screamed. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” Rick told him. “We're all paranoid enough without you making shit up.”

“I can't take this,” Danny groaned, and walked up the hill.

“Dan
ny,
” Brian called to him.

Danny didn't stop; and when he got on his bike and rode away, the boys got on their bikes and rode after him all the way to the house.

“Leave me alone,” Danny shouted at them, and ran up the porch steps.

“Come on, Danny. Don't be like that. Come on.”

Danny said, “Don't you see, we're wrong. We did something wrong.”

“I know,” Brian answered. “You're not the only one who can't sleep and eat and whatever…”

“Yeah,” Rick said.

“But all we're worried about is someone telling,” Danny said, “or someone finding out. Can't you—I don't know—it's more than—” He was about to sit down but walked to the back porch instead. The boys
followed close behind. When Brian came around the corner, Danny grabbed him by the shirt. It was a threatening gesture, but Brian took it. Maybe he was too startled, or scared, to pull away.

“Whether we tell or not doesn't change anything,” Danny said softly. “He's dead and we're alive. You were talking about our folks expecting us to do all that good stuff, well, what about this? Would they expect
this
? Maybe
this
is our
po
tential.” Danny pushed him away. “We have to look people in the eye and pretend, and all we do—oh, fuck it and fuck us, too.” Danny sat on the top step.

“We know, we know,” Brian said softly, and sat next to him.

“Do you also know,” Danny didn't look at him, but stared out at the field, “
how
we're going to get through it, because I don't. Instead of worrying about getting caught, I'm asking myself why
shouldn't
we get caught? We did it, didn't we? We're responsible for it, aren't we? We killed a little kid and all we care about is saving our butts.”

“It was an
accident,
” Brian said.

“A mistake,” Rick added.

“I'm talking about right now.”

Brian said, “It's too late to do anything about it.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Rick asked. “Walk into the police station and turn ourselves in?”

“There are other ways.” Danny put his face in his hands. “What's the use?”

“Is he crying?” Rick asked C.J.

“I'm not crying,” Danny told him. “I'm just frustrated.”

“It's not like we feel anything different,” Brian said. “But…”

“Just stop acting like everything's going to be okay,” Danny told him. “Our lives are never going to be the same. And stop making me feel like a jerk because I can't act like you.”

Brian put his hand on Danny's shoulder. “You're not a jerk.”

“Hell no.” Rick gripped Danny's arm. “If this is how you feel, we'll stand by you.”

Danny looked up and nodded his head.

“Are you going to be all right?” C.J. wanted to know.

Danny said, sure, he'd be all right.

“You want to come over to my house for supper?” Brian asked.

“My dad's taking me out,” Danny told him.

“You sure you're going to be—”

“I'm okay.”

When the boys walked to their bikes, Danny stayed on the back porch.

“You're not a jerk,” Brian called out.

 

The weather turned cooler on Wednesday, and when Danny dressed for school that morning he wore his sweatshirt. He told C.J., “I feel creepy wearing my baseball jacket.” They were standing outside their lockers before classes started. Danny looked worn out. “I feel like I'm being pulled apart inside.”

“I know what you mean,” C.J. whispered back, but that's all he could say because Courtney Webster was gathering her books and looking around for something which she apparently didn't find. She winked at C.J., told him, “That heroin look you've got going is way cool.” C.J. did his best to play along without encouraging Courtney to join the conversation, she winked at him a second time and when she left, Danny told C.J., “I can't describe it, but it's like having to choose something, and I don't know what it is.”

“Like having to choose between us and everyone else?” C.J.'s entire body was shaking.

“It's more complicated than that. Like I don't know what the right thing is anymore. Like when I'm with my dad, I feel like I'm cheating or something. Only it's worse than that because I know better than to do what we're doing. I mean—” Danny shook his head. “I'm supposed to take responsibility for the things I do.” His voice was tight and throaty. “And here I am, going along with…you know, Brian and Rick…when I know it's wrong and it will always be wrong.”

“I know. It's like, if Brian told his mom and dad, they'd make excuses for him, figure out a way to make it the kid's fault, and find a way to clear him.”

“Then pretend it never happened.”

“And if Rick told his mom and dad, his mom would find a way to
get money or something to the kid's folks, anonymously, of course, then get a great lawyer and send Rick to a psychiatrist for the rest of his life.”

“And if you told your mom and dad?”

“My mom would fix herself a Prozac cocktail and my dad would work out a deal to fix it with the cops or bribe someone, then make my life a living hell for the rest of my life.”

“If I told my dad,” Danny said, “he'd make me do the responsible thing, whatever that turned out to be.”

“But he'd stand by you, and help you through it. I'm sure of that.”

Danny said, yes, he was sure of that, too. “But I know he would never let me walk away from it.” He stuffed his books into his backpack. “Ever since I was a little kid and my mom left, it's like my dad and I—it's hard to explain. It's like my dad and I are supposed to behave a certain way, do certain things, even if we don't want to do them, so we'll be proud of each other.” He shook his head. “That's not what I mean, exactly. But it's like there's some agreement we have to never let the other one down.”

“I know what you're talking about.”

“I've gone back on that, haven't I, C.J.?” C.J. looked down at the floor and didn't answer.

“I'd rather die than do that.”

“God, Danny, don't say it like that.”

“I'm being pulled apart inside,” Danny repeated, as though he hadn't heard C.J., as though he were standing there alone. “Not by Brian, but by
me
.”

C.J. breathed, “Shit. How'd we ever get into this mess, anyway?”

“How are we ever going to get
out
of it?”

“Let's hope Brian's right and it'll all turn out okay.”

 

In the cafeteria that day, Ian Baker, the shortstop on the baseball team, came over and asked Danny, “Are you still bummed about losing the game last week?”

“Who said I was bummed?” Danny asked back.

“I heard that's why you've been acting so weird lately.”

“Who's acting weird?”

“If you want to know what I think,” Ian said, “you better not take losing so hard or you'll never have the stuff to pitch winning ball. It's time you stopped acting like a freshman.”

“Like I might ever give a shit what a pompous ass like you thinks, Baker.” Danny got up from the table, dumped his tray in the trash and hurried out.

“What's up with him?” Ian said, and when no one answered, he went away.

From the cafeteria window the boys could see Danny walking across the basketball courts, his hands in his sweatshirt pockets, his head down. It looked like he was talking to himself.

C.J. said he was worried about Danny.

Brian said, “God, I wish school was over.”

“Yeah,” Rick answered.

“We better make sure he's all right,” Brian told the others, but when they looked out the window again, Danny was gone.

 

On the bus ride home, Danny glowered at Brian. “What the hell kind of lies are you spreading about me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Baker.”

“I didn't say anything to Baker. I wouldn't—”

“Next time keep your mouth shut.”

Brian leaned forward, his face inches from Danny's. “Danny, I didn't say anything to Baker. Honest.”

When C.J. got off the bus, he could see Danny's face, tight and tense, staring blankly out the window.

 

That night, C.J. rode his bike over to the house. He found Danny walking aimlessly with Mutt through the field out by the backyard. The night was cool and Danny should have worn his sweatshirt or jacket, but he seemed unaware of the weather, unaware that he was shivering. C.J. mentioned how cold Danny looked. Danny wasn't listening. “I'm worried about us,” was all he said.

“Us?”

“The four of us. Us. We. The boys who killed Lamar Coggin.” Danny kept on walking and shivering. C.J. tagged along, not saying anything. “You see,” Danny said matter-of-factly, “I'm alone here all night and I've got a lot of time to think and I've got it all figured out.”

“Maybe you shouldn't be alone so much,” C.J. said. “You can come over to my house anytime you like. Like now, even.”

Danny ignored him. “Brian's going to survive this. And that worries me. Rick is going to survive it, too, because he does whatever Brian does. And that also worries me.” C.J. thought Danny was making a joke, but when he laughed Danny did not laugh with him. “I'm worried about
you,
C.J.”

“What are you talking about?”

“When I'm not here to take your side.”