Authors: Gabrielle Goldsby
“Why do you suppose he didn’t answer the phone?”
“We’re making an assumption he went home in the first place, Emma. Hell, I haven’t been to my apartment since the second day, and even then, it was just to throw some things in my bag.”
“I assumed you stopped by your place when you were out on your rides.”
Troy tried to hide her embarrassment. “No, I was doing a lot of riding around looking for other people, but I’d go see Patricia a lot, too.”
Emma didn’t say anything.
“Let’s rest over here.” Troy led Emma to a small stretch of grass in a center median and they sat down on the park’s solitary bench. “How’s your knee?”
“I’ll be sore tomorrow, but right now, it feels good to walk. Thank you for being so patient.”
“Emma, I won’t lie to you. I was in love with Patricia. I wish she had never died. I know that she had issues—problems. But I didn’t see any of that when we were together. Maybe I was just young and ignorant, but I was happy when I was with her.”
Emma tried to smile, but gave up. “I understand that, Troy. I wasn’t trying to make you not love her anymore. At least, I hope I wasn’t.”
Troy put her hand on Emma’s leg. “Let me finish before I chicken out, okay?”
Emma sat stiff, with her head down.
“Even with all this shit that’s going on, I can tell we have something special. I’m scared. I was scared when I started to realize what was happening between us. For the longest time Patricia was the only connection I had to the world. When she was alive, my main goal was trying to make her happy, and after she died, my goal was trying to live without her.”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“I want to. I accepted that Patricia was gone a long time before she died. I didn’t know about the drugs, I just knew she was never as happy as I was. She was always searching for something that I couldn’t give her. I was so sure that one day she would figure things out, and I would be all she needed.”
Emma wasn’t looking at her now, so Troy finished in a rush. “I was at the cemetery when I heard the car engine.”
“You went to Patricia’s grave,” Emma said.
“I was telling her goodbye.”
Emma did look up at that.
“It was just kind of symbolic. But it felt good, like I was being released. I was going to tell you when I got back, but that guy was trying to break in, and then you got sick.”
Emma searched Troy’s face.
“Thank you for telling me.” Emma leaned forward and kissed her. She felt Troy’s longing and happiness in that kiss.
Or was it her own?
“I am so glad I met you,” Emma whispered against Troy’s mouth. “So damn glad.”
Troy couldn’t say anything. They sat smiling at each other. Emma broke contact first by turning her face up as the light mist turned into a fine rain.
“We always seem to be getting rained on.”
Troy turned her face up as well. “I think summer’s just about over.” She stood up and offered Emma her hand. “We should get going.”
Emma stood up. “Oh, yeah. I’m going to be very sore.”
“I could rub you down once we get settled somewhere.”
“I thought you’d never offer.”
They were quiet for half a block before Troy said, “Do you think we should leave Portland? I mean, it’s a big place. We might not see that guy again.”
“I never thought I’d ever leave Portland.” Emma looked around. “I love this city, but half of what I loved about it was the people.” Emma chuckled. “I loved the people so much, I had nothing to do with them for two years, and now they aren’t here anymore.” She shook her head. “I worried every time you went for a ride, Troy.”
Troy squeezed her hand. “And I worried every time I was away from you. Which means we can’t stay here.”
“Where would we go?”
“We could go anywhere we wanted. I’ve been avoiding the whole car thing for too long, I’ve been thinking about us borrowing one.”
“Not on my account, you won’t.” Emma’s tone was firm.
“No? Funny, I can’t think of a better reason.”
“What about this boy, Jake? What if he doesn’t want to leave his parents?”
“All we can do is tell him what’s going on and ask him what he wants to do. It’s his decision in the end.”
“We can’t leave him alone here. Not with that man on the loose.”
“He’s been on his own for a while now, Em. I think that makes him capable of making his own decisions. We need to let him know about the guy at the hospital. If he doesn’t want to leave town with us, we won’t force the issue.”
“And if he wants to?”
Troy looked at Emma, unsure where she was going with the question. “Then we bring him with us. I went nuts before I found you. I wouldn’t wish that kind of isolation on my worst enemy, let alone a kid.”
Emma squeezed her hand and Troy had to remind herself that she and Emma hadn’t known each other long. “Should be just around the corner,” she said because Emma’s breathing had become more labored.
The Ostroph house was on the corner. It was very large—four bedrooms, Troy guessed from looking at it. It had three enormous old oak trees in a thick, green yard that looked as if someone—a gardener, no doubt—had spent many hours tending it. Troy wondered what it would be like to grow up in a house that size.
It looked as though every light, including the one outside the front door, had been left on.
Troy started toward the front door, but was brought up short because her fingers were still linked with Emma’s, and Emma hadn’t moved.
“What’s wrong?”
“Let’s wait a minute. Come over here.” Emma pulled Troy behind a tree and kept her eyes on the house. In a few minutes the boy passed in front of the window, holding a bottle of what looked like beer.
“Is he drinking a beer?” Troy asked.
“Could be a soda.”
“Could be a beer,” Troy insisted and remembered her own reaction to not finding anyone else awake when she came to in the hospital. “Let’s go ask him.” She stood up and started toward the door.
“Troy, no. Wait, please.” There was urgency in Emma’s voice now. Troy turned to look at her in the fading light.
“Emma, what’s going on? I thought we agreed that we need to at least tell him so that he knows there’s a lunatic out there.”
“Yes, I know, but there’s something wrong.”
Troy studied Emma’s face. “What do you mean, ‘something wrong’?”
“I just know it feels wrong. I sense pain and fear, disorientation, and I don’t know but…”
Troy was about to tell Emma she was over-reacting, but then thought better of it. “All the more reason to check in on him. Stay here. I’ll be right back,” she said, and before Emma could protest, she jogged, hunched over, to the front porch and peered in the window.
She could feel Emma’s eyes on her back as she watched the boy, Jake. He had brown hair and eyes and a skinny chest. He was staring fixedly at the TV set. His shoulders relaxed as he moved his thumbs back and forth over a game controller. He picked up the beer and sipped it.
Troy jogged back to the tree. “He’s drinking a beer and playing a video game. He didn’t look afraid.”
“I don’t know. I just get a sense of fear and…pain.”
Troy could see the frustration on Emma’s face. “I don’t get it. He doesn’t look like he’s in any kind of pain, but if he is, we need to help him.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Emma closed her eyes,.“I’m sorry. I don’t understand it, either.”
“We have to let him know we’re here.”
“He didn’t answer the phone. He probably won’t answer the door, either.”
“Maybe he was out getting food or games or something. Do you want to wait here? I can call to you if it’s safe.”
“No, I’m coming with you.” Emma stood up and took Troy’s hand.
This is nuts. It’s just a kid
. But even as she walked toward the door, Troy felt uneasy. Emma seemed to be spot-on where her feelings were concerned, but if this boy was hurt or afraid, that made it even more necessary to make contact with him. She knew how it felt to believe that everyone in the world was asleep except you.
She put her finger on the doorbell and, after a brief hesitation, pushed. Emma stared straight ahead, not looking at her, but not releasing her hand either.
The door swung open and The Boy stood there looking at them. He did not look surprised. In fact, there was no expression on his face at all.
“Hi,” he said as if greeting a door-to-door salesman.
“Troy?” Emma gasped.
But Troy had already seen the gun and the empty look in The Boy’s eyes.
*
“Hey, look.” Troy released Emma’s hand and held both hers in the air. “We aren’t here to hurt you. We just wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Emma kept her hands curled into fists at her side. Why hadn’t she listened to it? It had tried to warn her that there was something wrong here. Why hadn’t she insisted that Troy come away from the house?
The Boy, his Multnomah county library card said his name was Jake, was looking at Troy strangely. He seemed almost in a trance. Emma followed the boy’s gaze to Troy’s arms. Her biceps were readily noticeable. Carrying Dite was probably all the exercise she had ever needed to keep her upper body toned. The boy Jake stared at Troy’s arms a second longer, and then finally Emma sensed something coming from the boy that she could recognize: admiration and envy. It seemed so inconsistent with the situation that Emma gave her head an almost violent shake.
Troy glanced at her, her concern so immediate that it soothed Emma’s nerves.
“How did you find me?” Jake’s voice was deep, not quiet baritone, but deeper than should have been possible from such a frail body. Deeper than it should have been. Emma looked at his thin chest, at the way he held the gun, and at the lean, whipcord muscles on his arms. His voice was not that of a ten-year-old. He was closer to fifteen or sixteen than ten.
“We aren’t here to hurt you. We…” Troy’s voice lowered as she looked into his eyes.
“What do you want, then?”
“There’s someone else awake. A man.”
Jake cocked his head to the side, and Emma sensed confusion and then amusement radiating from him. The last emotion sent freezing-cold apprehension through her veins. She reached for Troy’s hand and squeezed hard.
“We’re sorry to have bothered you,” Emma said and began to pull at Troy’s hand.
“I already knew about that guy.”
“Good. We just wanted to make sure. We’ll go now.” He hadn’t asked them what they knew and he hadn’t seemed scared. Emma couldn’t sense much of anything coming from him and that scared her more than the gun.
Emma backed away, pulling Troy with her. The gun followed their movements, stopping them in place. Jake was so calm that his chest barely moved.
“You’re too late. He got here before you did.” Jake’s features melted, seemed younger, his voice slightly higher.
He’s in shock
, Emma thought, but something held her back, even as the gun dropped to his side.
“That’s why I got this.” He raised the gun again so that it was in front of their faces. Troy’s body tensed visibly.
“Come in, please.”
“Why don’t you put the gun down first? Before you accidentally hurt someone.”
“I’ll put it down when I’m ready. What made you think I needed your help?”
The question was odd, considering the circumstances outside. He gestured for them to come inside. His emotions, or lack of them, told Emma they had no choice.
This person—boy, teenager, whatever—would shoot them if they didn’t do as he asked. She walked through the door of the house, with Troy behind her.
Shock. He must be in shock.
The thought felt hollow and unlikely.
He’s crazy. That’s got to be it. That’s got to be why I can’t feel his emotions. Maybe I have some kind of built-in safety mechanism that keeps me safe from…
“I knew about the man before he got here. I was expecting him. I knew about you, too.” His voice was filled with pride and disdain.
“How did you know?” Troy’s confusion engulfed Emma, holding on to her. “Did you wake up at that clinic, too? Look…Jake. Your name is Jake, right?”
He didn’t answer. In fact, he showed no response to the name at all. Finally he asked, “How did you find me?”
“You left your bag at a store downtown. Your wallet was inside.” He looked as if he hadn’t heard Troy’s answer.
Jake took a deep breath. “In there,” he said, looking across the living room toward a closed door.
“What?”
“Look in there,” he said softly.
Troy took Emma’s hand.
“No, she can stay here,” Jake said, raising the gun again. This time he pointed it at Troy, probably dismissing Emma as no threat.
“No.” Troy’s voice had an edge to it. “She’s coming with me.”
Emma fought the need to laugh as Troy stared Jake down as if he didn’t have a gun. It was Jake who broke the silent struggle first. “If she tries anything, I’ll shoot her. If you try anything, I’ll shoot her.” Emma sensed anger rolling off Troy in waves, but there was fear too.