Brighter, a supernatural thriller (15 page)

Ramona had to take Olivia's side. The conversation was indeed enjoyable. It was why Ramona loved to live in Elston. Try to walk into a bar in Freeburg at eleven o'clock on a Friday night and engage someone in conversation about a polar shift. It would never happen. People in bars in the rest of the world talked about boring things.

However, as it got a little later, the night stopped going so well. First of all, people kept disappearing from their table. They'd go up to get another drink and never come back. Soon, Ramona, Garrett, and Olivia were the only people at the table. One of the things Ramona liked about Olivia was her frankness. She was a pretty honest person, but she didn't worry too much about sparing people's feelings sometimes. That was okay with Ramona. It was kind of refreshing actually. But left alone with the two of them, Olivia started talking to Garrett.

"So I bet you told my friend Ramona here that you didn't rape Blair?" she said.

Garrett looked startled. "Um..."

"She's not being rude, that's just the way she is," Ramona said to Garrett.

Olivia laughed.

"Well," said Garrett. "I didn't rape her."

"So why does she say you did?" Olivia said.

"I don't know," said Garrett. "I've never even had sex with her."

Olivia shrugged. "That just doesn't really add up, does it? Sorry Ramona, but I can't believe Blair's making this up. Do you really think that?"

"There are a lot of things about Blair that I don't think anybody really knows," said Ramona. "For instance, last week, she locked me in the basement of the library all night."

Olivia almost choked on the sip of beer she was taking. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. And she said she did it because she was angry that I was making Garrett happy when he doesn't deserve it."

"Well..." said Olivia. "I mean, with what she's been through..."

"Why didn't she go to the police if Garrett raped her?" said Ramona.

"There are lots of reasons why girls don't want to go to the police after they're raped," said Olivia. "Rape is one of the most underreported crimes."

"Generally, that's because women are ashamed," Garrett said quietly. "Blair didn't seem to have any problem telling everybody except the police about it. All her friends beat the shit out of me that night, and I didn't even know why."

"Look, Blair's my friend—" started Olivia.

"I thought I was your friend too," said Ramona.

"I need another beer," said Olivia. Her beer was half-full.

Ramona sighed heavily as she watched Olivia head back to the bar.

"I told you we should stay home," said Garrett.

"That just means they win," said Ramona. "They aren't chasing me out of my bar. This place is just as much mine as it is theirs." She paused. "Besides, it's good. Olivia will tell other people what we said. At least your side of the story is going to get into the mix now."

Garrett shook his head. "I hate this town."

"Yeah," Ramona said. She needed to move away. Really. She should apply to grad schools or something. Except. All the deadlines for fall were in January or February. It was late spring. She was too late again. Did that mean she was stuck in Elston for another whole year?

She and Garrett finished their drinks in near silence. Ramona couldn’t think of anything to say. "I'll buy us another round?" she said, when they were done.

"You sure you wanna stay?"

"It's still early. Maybe the night will improve."

Garrett snorted, but he let her go.

Once she got to the front of the bar, Ramona realized that Blair and Owen had arrived. That sucked. As badly as the night had gone so far, it was going to get even worse now. Ramona tried to keep out of sight of Blair, but wasn't sure if she was successful. She bought two more drinks, one for herself and one for Garrett. When she returned to his table, she was surprised to see that someone was sitting with Garrett. It was Hayden, one of the older gay men who lived in town. Elston had a reputation for attracting the homosexual community. Hayden was an interesting guy. He was flaming, but he also had a nervous tick to his speech. He didn't stutter exactly, but it sometimes took him a long time to get out what he was saying. And he muttered a lot. Still, Ramona liked him okay. He was cool to talk to for a while, anyway. It looked as if she might be right. Maybe their evening was looking up.

She let Garrett and Hayden talk for a while without interrupting or even trying to follow their conversation. She just happily drank her beer and smoked her cigarette. Then Dawn and Cecelia wandered into the back and headed straight for her table. Inwardly, she groaned.

"Ramona," said Dawn. "Can we talk to you?"

"Sure," said Ramona. "Sit down."

"No, can we talk to you alone?" said Cecelia.

"Fine," said Ramona, getting up from the table. She followed Dawn and Cecelia further into the garden, to a small table underneath a huge, old tree. The three sat down. "What's up?" asked Ramona.

"We're just..." said Cecelia.

"...worried about you," said Dawn.

Worried about Ramona, her ass. They were just being bitchy. That was all there was to it.

"I mean, you know Garrett is a rapist, right?" said Cecelia.

"I don't know that," said Ramona.

"Oh yeah," said Cecelia. "He raped Blair."

"I meant that I don't think that's true," said Ramona.

"God, Ramona, you think Blair's lying?" asked Dawn in a horrified voice.

"Why don't you guys just drop it?" Ramona muttered. "I know something weird is going on around here. I know you guys have something to do with it." She didn't really know anything, and she didn't know why she said it. She guessed she wanted to gauge their reaction.

The girls exchanged a look. "Listen, we just don't think it's a good idea for you to hang out with Garrett," said Cecelia.

"We're your friends," said Dawn. "We don't want anything to happen to you." But her voice sounded a little flat, and there was a funny way that she cocked her head. Like a house cat sizing up her prey or something.

"Garrett's not going to hurt me," said Ramona.

"Associating with Garrett might," said Cecelia. "I thought Blair had already made that clear to you."

Ramona felt chills run through her body. What the hell was that? That wasn't a typical friendly thing to say. She clutched her beer tightly. "You're threatening me?"

"We like you, Ramona," said Cecelia. "We wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

"We don't especially like Garrett," said Dawn. "If you're always around him...well..."

Shit. She was right. She'd been right. There was something wrong with these girls. They weren't normal like other people. And they were threatening her. "What are you going to do?" she whispered.

Cecelia laughed then, a hard bright laugh, throwing her head back, because apparently what Ramona had said was so amusing. "I thought you'd figured us all out," she said. "You don't know what we do? Well, good. Maybe it should stay that way."

* * *

"Whatcha reading?" asked Rick, depositing his bag and jacket on the table where Heather was sitting. Heather didn't understand how a guy who was such a Nazi about dishes didn't seem to have any problem dumping his stuff on the table. He did it every day when he came home from work. In Heather's mind, tables were for food and that was it. But then, of course, Rick wouldn't even eat at a table if it meant he could keep from dirtying a dish. Heather did not understand the guy at all.

"It's a book I got from the Elston library," said Heather, looking up. "I've been looking for it for a long time."

Rick reached down and lifted the cover of the book so that he could read the title. Heather glared at him. "Ghosts, huh?" he said.

She did not want to have this conversation with Rick right now. She just wanted to keep reading her book in peace. She hadn't realized it was so late in the day and that he would be coming home soon, because she'd been so engrossed in the book. Rick probably wouldn't understand anyway, because Rick didn't really read for pleasure. And he definitely didn't understand her fascination with ghosts.

"So what's for dinner?" Rick asked.

Heather rolled her eyes. Rick was on this weird kick now, since she was doing shift work at the restaurant. A lot of the times, she went in late and worked until one or two, whenever they kicked the patrons out of the bar area and finished clean up after they were gone. If she was home all day and then left at six, Rick seemed to assume she should spend that time acting like a housewife or something. After all, it wasn't as if she should spend her downtime the way he did, watching TV and playing video games. No, she was the little woman. She should be cooking and cleaning. Sometimes, she wanted to strangle Rick. She smiled at him. "I don't know, sweetie," she said. "What were you thinking of cooking?"

He looked offended. "Look, I'm just saying that you've been home all day, and—"

"I slept until noon," Heather interrupted. "Just because I work late doesn't mean that I don't work, baby."

"If I had your schedule, and you had mine, I would cook you dinner," said Rick.

"Well, you're a sweetheart," said Heather. "Too bad you couldn't have married yourself." Inwardly, she seriously doubted Rick would do any such thing if their schedules were inverted. She went back to her book.

"Heather," Rick said. "Aren't you going to talk to me? I mean, we never see each other. You're going to have to go in to work in two hours. You're asleep when I get up. I miss you."

What Heather primarily wanted to do was read her book, not hang out with Rick, who she lived with, saw every day, and knew forwards, backwards, and inside out. But that seemed sort of rude, so she marked her page and closed the book. "Sure, baby," she said. "What do you want to talk about?"

But Rick was annoyed with her now. She could see it. God, why was marriage such hard work?

"No," he said. "You know what? It's fine. You read. I'll order pizza."

Heather sighed. "Well, when I was in Elston the other day getting the book, I ran into Garrett, who's apparently Ramona's new boyfriend."

"Oh yeah?"

"I don't like him. He's rude."

"Wait. Garrett? Garrett Hillard?"

"Yeah, that's his last name."

"He's back in Elston? That guy got run off a few years ago. He's a rapist."

Heather nodded. "Yeah, Ramona knows that. She doesn't think he is."

"So she thinks the chick...dude, what was her name? Claire or something?"

"Blair," Heather supplied.

"Yeah, Blair. Ramona thinks Blair is lying?"

"I guess so. She told me that Blair locked her in the basement of the library one night."

Rick made a face. Heather took some time to explain what Ramona had told her in more depth.

"Whoa," said Rick. "Do you believe her?"

"I believe her," said Heather. "I think. At least some of it is true. You know this Blair girl? What do you think about her?"

"Well, I sort of know her," said Rick. "I mean, I'd recognize her face. But you know I was never really what people would call a townie when I lived in Elston. I didn't really hang out in the same circles as she did. But, all those kids that lived on the river always struck me as a little weird. I guess I wouldn't put something like that past her."

Heather nodded. "I am kind of worried about Ramona. She seems so totally out of it lately. Maybe she's going a little crazy. The other day she tried to tell me that Blair was an alien, like in
Invasion of the Body Snatchers
or something."

Rick laughed. "Wait. They were ghosts, then they were clones, then they were demons, and now they're aliens? That's great. Really. Ramona is very imaginative."

"Or very insane," said Heather. "I don't know. What do you think I should do? Should I do anything? If it was your best friend, what would you do?"

"Probably just laugh it off," said Rick, shrugging.

"But she won't drop it. She's very serious about it."

"Well," said Rick. "I don't think you should tell her that you think she's nuts or something. Because that might just drive her off. If you keep telling her that you don't agree with her, she might just stop telling you about it to keep from getting a negative reaction." He paused. "Does she seem to be crazy in other ways? Like is she not going to work or spending too much money or drinking too much?"

"Not really," said Heather. "I mean, besides the aliens stuff, she's the same as she ever was. No one living in Elston is completely normal anyway."

Rick shrugged again. "See what happens," he advised. "Maybe it'll all just blow over."

* * *

Garrett locked the library, whistling. Blair hadn't been by to freak him out or make veiled threats in quite some time. He and Ramona were going hot and heavy. Everything there was awesome. And even though something fucked up might be going on in Elston, for the first time in a long time, he felt like his life actually might be looking up. It was the closest he'd felt to happy in years.

His car was parked behind the library on Water Street. Water Street went one way and was barely wide enough for a car to actually fit down. Garrett wasn't entirely sure why the street warranted a name. It was more a glorified alley than anything else. Still, the library staff spaces were there. There were two of them, but if two people were actually working at the library, it was a tight fit to actually get two cars parked there. Like most parking in Elston, the staff spaces weren't real convenient to the library. All of the parking around the library was metered or residential. If Garrett had lived in town, he would have just walked to work. But his parents lived outside town, in a planned community where all the houses looked sort of the same. It reminded Garrett of the street in
A Wrinkle in Time
, on the planet where everybody was controlled by the huge brain It. There was something sinister about planned communities.

It was actually kind of ironic, he thought later, because he wasn't going to his car to drive away that evening. He was just going there to pick up the beer he'd left in the trunk so that he could take it over to Ramona's. He'd just called her to make sure that they were definitely hanging out tonight. She hadn't shown up at the library after work, because she was apparently staying a little late that evening. Still, he was going to wait for her at her apartment. She'd promised to be there as soon as she could. If it hadn't been for that beer, he'd never even have gone to his car.