Half In Love With Death (14 page)

He stared at me. “I have no idea why he would say something hurtful like that, unless . . . .” He ground the toe of his boot in the rug. “He's referring to when I drove her back to my house to get her purse. She left it there when we stopped off before the party. You know Jess. She had to have it. Probably needed the money for California.”

Though I could see Jess insisting on that, it still didn't make sense. I couldn't let it go. I needed to know. “But Billy said she was screaming.”

“She was mad at me because of Edie, but she wasn't screaming.” He sighed. “Maybe Billy got a little creative with the truth so he could turn you against me. Can you think why he'd want to do that?”

“Because he still likes me.” I guessed that was possible.

“Yup. Guys always want what they can't have.” Tony smiled. “Tell me if he bothers you, and I'll take care of him.” He hesitated, then took my hands in his and said, “You okay?”

He looked at me so tenderly I almost cried with gratitude. For once someone was watching out for me. As he started practicing with the band, I wrapped my arms around myself, desperately wanting what he'd told me to be true.

Jangling electric chords pierced the air, punctuated every now and then by drumrolls. Edie tapped me on the shoulder. “You know what would make this a lot more fun? Getting high.”

“What?” I said.

“Don't tell me you've never gotten high.” When I told her I hadn't, she said, “I have to see you high.” She grabbed my hand and took me out to the pool. There were kids all around, but they didn't even notice us. Something about the way they stood together talking, smoking, staring, made me feel like I was part of something bigger than I was, bigger than all of us. I felt a surge of excitement.

Edie lit up a joint, inhaled, and handed it to me. It smelled really bad.

“Maybe not,” I said.

She frowned. “It's only pot.” She guided the joint to my lips. “Trust me. You're just gonna feel a little happy.”

I inhaled and coughed violently. It was like I'd swallowed fire.

“That wasn't so bad, was it?” Edie said.

“No,” I replied, still coughing. She handed it back to me a bunch more times. Nothing was really happening yet, but finally I told Edie I didn't want any more. Much as I liked reading about drugs, I was feeling a little anxious.

She frowned. “This is Moose's. It's good shit. But suit yourself. All the more for me.” When she'd finished the joint we went back inside. The murmur of the crowd was like bees buzzing. Everything grew distant. It was like the world was spinning away from me. Edie hovered over Tony as he tuned his guitar. Debbie leaned against the fireplace mantel, smoking a cigarette, and talking to Peter, who was gesturing wildly. Lizzie was rocking her baby. I couldn't make out what anyone was saying. Except for the surreal humming in the background, it was like a silent movie. Everyone had someone to talk to except me. I began counting the small blue flowers that patterned the wallpaper, numerous as stars. Though probably only a few minutes had passed, it felt like I'd been standing there forever.

Edie grabbed my arm, shaking me from my dream. “Oh my God, we forgot the cake,” she said. The batter was still sitting in the bowl. As she was pouring it into the pans, she didn't even notice that she'd missed, and was spilling it on the kitchen counter. That really cracked us up.

She scooped some up with her finger and licked it off. “Want to know a secret?”

I caught my breath. “What?”

She smiled. “I like cake better before it's cooked.” We both cracked up again, then poured the rest into the pans. While it was baking, we drank Coke and ate Cheez-Its. Nothing had ever tasted so good. When the cake was almost done, Edie peeked in the oven. It had risen over the tops of the pans and rolled down the sides onto the bottom of the oven.

“It's the cake that took over the world,” she said, and we laughed some more. I'd never laughed so hard. She put her pale hand on my arm. “We really can't cook, can we?” she said, and the way she said “we” almost made me cry. My faraway feeling had left and I hadn't even noticed.

Moose came over, plopped his big paw-like hand on Edie's shoulder and said, “Gimme some cake, woman.”

“It's not ready, you big dope.” She extricated herself from his hand. He gazed at her adoringly and lumbered off. She said, “Moose gives me the creeps.”

“Why?” I asked.

She shrugged. “He was in jail, you know.”

“What for?”

“Rape, murder, shoplifting, who the fuck knows,” she said, and though this wasn't funny at all, we both started laughing
again
. “The worst thing is he likes me.” She made a face. “And he follows me around like he's trying to protect me or something. Can you imagine?”

I shook my head. “Does Tony mind?”

She sucked on her little finger. “Tony doesn't mind.” She looked at me. “He knows I'm his girl.”

• • •

Kids grabbed handfuls of cake from the pan. It was gone before I knew it. Edie convinced me to smoke another joint and we drank some red wine from a gallon jug. I felt like I was at the party and somewhere else at the same time. One minute I'd be listening to the people near me; the next I could swear I heard a conversation that wasn't at the party. Someone said, “Caroline,” in a loud whisper and when I turned there was no one there. It was like I was caught between two worlds. Panic rose up inside of me. I stared down at the green dress. The shadows in the creases were like valleys, and the starlight pale folds like mountains. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen; a country all its own, with clouds, sheep bell tinkles, and silver ponds. Jess country. I could see her stepping on the pond that was now a frozen mirror. She was skating on the ice mirror, her white lace-up skates making soundless figure eights. Everything was spinning, like she was. I had to sit down, but where? It was like Jess was really here, next to me, her hand on mine. For a second I was sure I heard her say, “How's it going, sis,” and felt the hiss of her warm breath on my ear. But she wasn't here. She was gone. My pulse was racing. I wanted to go home. And the worst thing was Tony had disappeared, too. I tried to steady myself and ended up flopping down on the couch next to Debbie, who scratched her leg and refused to acknowledge my existence.

“Wake up,” Edie said. “The band is starting to play.”

“I thought they were already done.” Time had gotten all mixed up, almost as if there was no time.

“Don't be silly. It's only been a few minutes since we ate the cake.”

“Oh.” I tried to calm my nerves. Was I going crazy like my mother? Edie's smile wasn't reassuring. She looked like someone wearing an Edie mask. Debbie was wearing a Debbie mask, too, right down to her pig-like, gray eyes.

Then Tony strolled in and the world fell back into place. There was something beautiful about the way he moved, as if he owned the room. A chill went through me. I imagined it went through everyone else as well. The other band members stood behind him. I felt a surge of pride as he put one leg on the amp, leaned his guitar on it and strummed a piercing chord. He was so handsome in his tight black pants, his hair falling in his eyes. He and the band members had painted their faces white and darkened their eyes. He looked like a mime. Everyone was staring at him, but he was looking at me. It was just one quick blue glance, but I saw it.

“This here's a little song I wrote for someone special,” he said. I couldn't suppress a smile, but I noticed Edie couldn't, either. He began singing about rain in his heart, darkness in the rain. His liquid dark voice washed over us. The other members of the band joined in. It was so loud it gave me the shivers. Edie, Peter, Moose, Debbie, Lizzie, everyone in the room was watching him, but I couldn't shake the sense he was singing directly to me. He had the whole room in the palm of his hand, but the music was for me, and I felt its power. It was a black velvet river, like nothing I'd ever touched before. I shut my eyes, aware of the world within, the world outside me, and the strange beauty of everything.

The band launched into a faster, hard-driving song about a train. It was barreling through my mind when someone tapped me on the shoulder. Startled, I turned to see that it was Tony. He'd stepped away from the band, though they were still playing.

“Want to dance?” he said. Before I could answer, he'd taken my hands in his. I gulped. I wasn't a very good dancer, but he was. His feet moved so fast, I couldn't keep up. He pulled me to him, his arm tight around my waist, and then spun me around. When the song ended I bent over, out of breath. He lifted my chin.

“I don't know how to dance as well as Jess,” I said.

He shook his head. “You just need her dancing shoes.”

I looked up at him. “Dancing shoes?” I was wearing my new patent leather school shoes. Their chunky heels were heavy, not light.

“Those pretty white ones she used to wear with that dress.” He ran his finger down my arm. “I found one in the bedroom the other day, but I couldn't find the other.” His sad gaze met mine.

“That's funny. I found one in our room.” I paused. “I was just thinking of them.” It was as if we really were connected in some special way.

“She must have brought it here that night when she wanted to go dancing, but left one at home by mistake. She could be forgetful.”

I nodded. “Sounds just like her.”

“It broke my heart when I found it.” A weary look crossed his face and then he went back to play with the band.

• • •

It was dark when they finished playing. The pot and wine were wearing off. Edie and Debbie were talking to Tony. When I walked up, he turned to me. “We're gonna move this party to the desert. You in?”

I told him I was going to be in a lot of trouble if I didn't leave soon.

He shook his head. “Jess wouldn't have left.”

I shrugged. “And she always got in trouble.”

Tony looked at me sadly. “If you really have to go, I'll give you a ride.”

“Can I come?” Edie asked.

He turned to her. “No.”

She looked hurt.

I began backing away. “I have to get my books,” I said.

Edie watched with forlorn brown eyes as Tony followed me into the bedroom. I grabbed my books from beside the bed. He stood next to me, a little too close. As I fumbled with the books, a notebook fell on the floor. He picked it up and pulled out “Death and the Buttercup.” Mr. Raymond's glowing comments about my talent for poetry were written across the top. I could have died.

He sat down on the bed and held the poem close to his face. His mascara had smeared on the white makeup, making gray shadows under his eyes. He looked like some unreal being reading it. “That's some cool stuff, Caroline.”

I nodded.

“But it doesn't sound like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sounds like someone older.”

I asked him to give it back.

“Sit down,” he said. I sat down next to him. One of the sheets was coming off the mattress. They were grayish white—not pink like the ones Mom stretched tightly on my bed—and they smelled different, too. My sheets always smelled like flower perfume. These smelled like cigarettes and sweat.

Tony reached his arm around my shoulder. I didn't move. My hand was touching the bare mattress. And then he kissed me. It was as if we were both reaching toward something I couldn't name, except to say I wanted more of it. My skin felt fuzzy. He undid the zipper of the green dress, gently peeled it off my shoulders. He paused for a moment, looking at me, and all the feelings from this summer welled up inside me. I thought I might cry. We lay back on the bed. He traced his finger along the lace of my bra.

“Am I going too fast for you?” His strange mask-face was looking at me, but at the same time it was like he was looking at something miles away. “'Cause if you want me to stop, I will.” As he pulled his shirt off, for one crazy second I wanted to brush my lips against the small blue star tattooed on his pale bicep, but I didn't. He pressed my hand against his stomach. I could feel the hard muscles beneath his downy skin. His expression became dreamy. I pulled my hand away.

I said, “Jess wouldn't want me to do this.”

“Wherever love is, love is,” he said sadly.

“I don't understand.”

“I'm sorry. I guess I got you confused with someone else.” He looked away. When he turned back to me I felt an ache inside. Had I done something wrong? I was so hopeless. I never did the right thing.

“I can't help that I'm different from Jess.” I touched his smooth shoulder.

“You don't have to be like her. You just have to be you.” He pushed my hair away from my face. He repeated, “You.” He kissed me again, ran his hands up under my bra, his palms warm and rough. His eyes had the look of blue flowers wilted in the heat and something else I didn't understand. It was almost as if he was someone I didn't know, someone warm, cold, and mysterious, all at the same time. It must have been the white makeup. I was so lost in what I was feeling I almost didn't hear the door open. I looked up. Edie was hovering on the threshold, thin and pale like a ghost, her small hand clutching the doorframe as she stared at us with eyes as wide as saucers.

“What is it?” Tony said, annoyed.

“I was just, just.” She was like a record stuck on the same note.

“Get out,” Tony said, and she fled. “That girl, she's like a cat. Every time I turn around, she's there.”

“She just likes you,” I said.

“I guess that's it.” He rolled his eyes. “Where did we leave off?”

“I have to go,” I said. “It's late. My parents will kill me.”

“I forgot you were still a little schoolgirl. I'll drive you home.” He stroked me under the chin and smiled as he said, “Death and the Buttercup.”