The Long Sleep (10 page)

“It’s hardly a new idea,” she said.

“Glyn, nobody else has ideas like that. And
who would want to?”

“Are you sure that’s what it was?”

“I went out this morning and looked. There
were pebbles in the grass under my window.” My suspicions festered
and I was getting angry.

“Oh, Maddie,” she sighed. “He’s so hooked on
you.”

“Why isn’t he at school in New Hampshire? Why
me?”

“I thought he was.” She sounded
apologetic.

She added brightly, “Maybe he’ll go
back!”

She did know where he was. Why would she do
that to me?

“He’s an idiot,” I said. “Why can’t he just
move on?”

“He’s hooked. He loves you.”

“Glyn, knock it off. There’s nothing cute
about him, or even normal. It’s sick, and you know it.”

“I do?”

“You did,” I said. “Back when we were
friends.”

She gasped. “Aren’t we still?”

“I don’t know. It seems to me there are a lot
of secrets going around.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What I’m talking about,” I said, “is it
looks as if some of us know more about certain people than they’re
letting on.”

That sounded really stupid. I should have
said it all straight out.

“Like where Evan is,” I clarified. “He can’t
still be in New Hampshire if he threw pebbles at me. And you keep
insisting it was somebody else.”

“I said it
might
have been somebody
else,” Glyn replied. “You’re not keeping an open mind.”

I had a mildly cheering thought. “I wonder if
he got kicked out of there, too.”

“I absolutely wouldn’t know, and that’s the
truth. I’m not holding out on you, Mads. I do know he’s gone from
Lakeside, so why don’t you come back there? I really miss you.”

That thawed me just a little. She’d been my
buddy since prehistoric times.

“Thanks.” I said. “I miss you, too. But I’m
not going to keep changing schools. It’s not that much longer until
we graduate.”

“It seems like forever.” Then she perked up.
“How do you feel about pizza? It would be like old times.”

I loved pizza, but it came with baggage.
“Pizza was the first date I had with him.”

“Mads, you can’t give up everything. Don’t
let him take over your life.”

He took it over anyway. I didn’t
let
him.

But she had a point. I couldn’t live my whole
life with Evan pulling the strings. With him confining me and
making me afraid. If he was back in Southbridge, I’d be looking
over my shoulder all the time.

If he could do that to me, then he had the
upper hand.

She prodded. “See if you can forget him for a
couple of hours.”

I really wanted to see her. Evan couldn’t
keep me locked up at home.

“Okay, then. Half an hour?”

Perrino’s was all white stucco on the outside
with an arched wooden door. Inside there were red checked
tablecloths and loud recorded music. We found a table with a view
of the parking lot, ordered a small pie with eggplant topping, and
sugar-free sodas.

Glyn had on a yellow sweater that emphasized
her figure. I used to think she wore a padded bra, but she’d told
me she didn’t. As we waited for the pie, she asked, “Are you
hurting yet?”

It took me a moment to figure out she meant
my memories of Evan.

“No,” I said, “I’m just nauseated. Why can’t
I live in peace?”

“
You have to not let it get to
you.”

“That’s easy to say. You didn’t have to put
up with him. He wouldn’t even let me talk to my own brother.”

“Why not? Ben’s your brother, for gosh
sakes.”

“That’s what I kept telling him. His
reasoning was that Ben was adopted, which leaves out any DNA
connection. Therefore there’s nothing to stop me from having a
relationship with him. That’s so sick. He’s my
brother.
I
grew up with him.”

“I forgot he was adopted.”

“He’s one of the family.”

“He’s older than you.”

“So? I know people seem to expect the adopted
one to be an afterthought, but he wasn’t. My parents almost gave up
on having kids. They were in the process of adopting when I
happened. Big surprise. That’s why we’re so close in age.”

She studied my face. “You don’t look much
like him.”

“No, I think he’s more exotic. We don’t know
anything about his history. He was a foundling.”

“He’s gorgeous.”

“You mean I’m not?” I scanned the parking lot
and the street beyond it for a yellow car with giant tires. “Do you
think he still drives the same thing?”

“Who, Ben?”

“No.
Him.
I don’t want him sneaking up
on me.”

“You mean the yellow thing? Maddie, I swear I
haven’t seen him since he got kicked out of Lakeside. I wouldn’t
know what he’s up to now.”

I thought of roses. And “Over the Rainbow.”
That’s what he was up to, but if I told her, she wouldn’t believe
his intentions weren’t romantic. She had a romantic mind.

My straw made a gurgly sound. “I wonder what
he’d do if I said I wanted to get back together.”

“Do
you? Really?” She finished her own
drink and reached for her coat.

“I absolutely do not.” How could she think
that? “I just thought it might knock him off balance. Make him
decide he doesn’t want me after all. Which I don’t think he really
does. It’s a control thing.” I added in a tough-guy male voice,
“Nobody dumps Evan Steffers.”

Glyn said nothing.

I looked all around as we went out to the
parking lot. It was small enough that I’d have seen the yellow
monstrosity if it were there.

“This was fun,” Glyn said. “We should do it
again soon. In the meantime, girlfriend, let it go. He’ll get over
you someday.”

“No, he won’t. It’s an obsession. Like I
said, it’s control he wants, not me, and he’s not going to let it
go. He’s already shot—”

I stopped, not wanting to get into that. I
wanted to get in my car and go home. The parking lot was much too
open.

“Shot who?”

“Let’s talk in my car.”

“Mads, you’re letting him get to you.”

“He already has.” I unlocked the car and we
both got in.

Then I realized what a bad idea it was. All
those windows. I’d been in this same car when Hank was shot. I had
a sudden vivid flashback of that night.

But now it was daytime, although getting
toward evening. There were people all around. He wouldn’t dare.
Especially with a rifle, which is hard to conceal. Falco told me it
was probably a rifle but they hadn’t found the weapon itself.

I gave Glyn a full account of what happened,
leaving her with a dropped jaw when I finished.

“Why didn’t you
tell
me?”

“I just did.” All except my many visits to
the hospital and my feelings for Hank.

“But you don’t know it was him,” she argued.
“It could have been anybody.”

She said that about the pebbles, too. She was
right that it
could
have been anybody else, but I very much
doubted that it was.

“At first,” I admitted, “I thought it was
somebody who didn’t agree with Hank. He was trying to be
even-handed, but people hear what they want to hear and they always
think they can force their ideas on other people.”

“Not everybody thinks that,” she said. “It’s
the ones who do that make the news.” She looked around as
streetlights came on. “It’s getting dark. We’d better hit the road.
Or were you counting on your friendly neighborhood cop to save
you?”

She got out of the car, and then leaned in
through the open door. “I wonder what they do if they catch you
driving after dark with a junior license. Can they actually arrest
you?”

“They can take away your license,” I
said.

“Ouch, that’s bad.” She grinned and
straightened up. I hadn’t liked her leaning in. It left her butt
exposed to rifle fire.

She started to close the door, then leaned in
again. “Come on back to Lakeside. I mean it. We could have such
fun.” She closed the door and waved goodbye.

Had it been that much fun when I was there?
The last few months were so full of Evan being a dictator that I
couldn’t remember the good times.

And why was Glyn so insistent on Evan’s
innocence? She’d always been on my side before.

Maybe I was being closed-minded. Maybe the
shooter really was somebody trying to destroy Hank’s bright ideas
and Hank along with them.

At home, I wrote a diatribe for the paper,
expressing my view of people who think they can impose their ideas
by violence. “The pen is mightier than the sword,” I quoted. I
forgot who said it first.

Well, maybe that was true. It wasn’t a pen
that put Hank into a coma. But my writing about it might start
people thinking and ultimately make a difference.

I saved the article and went to bed.

But not for long. Again I woke to hear the
dogs barking.

I could feel my heart trying to pound its way
through my chest. What was he doing this time? I listened for
pebbles. That in itself would keep me awake all night, just
waiting. It was psychological warfare. And Glyn thought I should
let it go.

There were no pebbles this time. What if he’d
gotten into the house, deadbolt, and all? He did it before, that
time in October, with only a glasscutter. I suspected it was what
got him kicked out of Lakeside. The school wasn’t too keen on kids
with a police record.

I didn’t hear anything. No pebbles, no
intruder. Even the dogs had stopped.

I lay staring into darkness and tried to
think pleasant thoughts. I thought of Hank. He must have been
relieved, if he could feel it, to get that breathing tube out. It
looked so uncomfortable, a tube going down his throat, and not a
thin one, either. I’d have been gagging constantly. Even the
dentist made me gag when he got too close to where my gag reflex
was.

I wondered if Hank could feel anything at
all. Did he have pain where the shot entered his head? I should
have asked if they took the bullet out. Sometimes they don’t, if
they think the surgery might do further damage. Imagine going
through life knowing there’s a bullet in you. Especially your head.
Maybe I didn’t want to know if they left it in.

Like it or not, I would have to know so I
could write about him for the paper. Every week I would write an
update. That would give me a reason for visiting.

Even with the dogs quiet, I couldn’t get up
and look out. It would mean going downstairs. My parents’ room was
on the front side of the house. Ben and I were in back.

Then the barking began again. I got up and
opened my door just a crack. I couldn’t see them, but I could tell
by the sound that they were near the front door. A car started up.
It sounded too close to be out on Lake Road, and then it was
gone.

What nerve, coming right up to the house.
What did he do this time? It wasn’t pebbles. I hoped he hadn’t
wired the house with explosives. Or poured gasoline all around. I
didn’t smell any.

If my whole family got blown up, and the
dogs, too, it would be my fault. With that cheering thought, I went
back to bed and
hoped
I could sleep.

Chapter Nine

By morning I’d almost
forgotten the disturbance. Everything seemed normal. I was dashing
around, getting ready for school, eating shredded wheat because
Rhoda wouldn’t buy anything with sugar and most things came loaded
with it. Then I remembered the car starting up the night
before.

It gave me a moment of choking on my cereal.
I tried again to take Glyn’s advice, as in
get over it.
By
being so afraid of him I was letting him own me just as he wanted
to. This was Monday morning. People would surround me all day.
Nothing to worry about.

I gulped down the rest of my breakfast,
chucked my book bag into the car along with a tin of cookies for
Falco, and set out toward Lake Road.

Our driveway was a blind one, making a sharp
turn with bushes on either side. I had to stop and check for
traffic. There was always traffic because the road dead-ended at
Lakeside School. People would drop their kids off, then turn around
and come back.

I eased my foot onto the brake.

The pedal kept going down. All the way to the
floor. The car slid forward as if there were no brake.

Two-way traffic and I was heading straight
into it. I couldn’t do anything but steer into a rhododendron bush
and hear the branches smashing. I screamed.

I turned off my engine. Good thinking,
Maddie.

I screamed again. Blew the horn.

In my rearview mirror I saw Rhoda come
running from the kitchen. Her mouth moved but I couldn’t hear
her.

Then she was at my window. I still couldn’t
hear. I refused to turn on the engine and lower the window, and I
was making noise myself.

Ben followed her, but stopped to examine
something on the driveway. I opened my door. My heart beat fast and
my legs wouldn’t stop shaking.

Ben came to the front of the car and gestured
for me to pop the hood. I couldn’t find the lever. I couldn’t
think. Finally I remembered where it was. While he opened it, Rhoda
helped me out of the car.

“It wouldn’t stop!” I cried. “It was going
straight out into the road! I’m sorry about your bushes.”

Ben kept the hood open. “Did you let anybody
fuss with this?”

“Did I...let anybody...?”

“Your brake line is cut.”

“The brake line?” Rhoda said.

“Where the brake fluid is.” He narrowed his
eyes at me.

The dogs. They
had
been barking at
something.

Then Daddy was there. He, too, bent to
examine the stain on the driveway.

“L-last night.” My voice quavered. “The dogs.
And Saturday night he threw pebbles, like before. I didn’t hear any
last night.”