Paranoid Park (6 page)

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Authors: Blake Nelson

BOOK: Paranoid Park
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Then, standing in the Fitches’ kitchen, I peeled off my T-shirt and put it carefully in the plastic bag.
Then I noticed the window over the sink. It faced the street. The neighbors across the street could see me. I ducked down and slunk into the hall, where I couldn’t be seen, and finished undressing. I didn’t have a plan exactly, so I put all my clothes in the garbage bag.
I went into the closest bathroom. This was probably not the best idea, since it was Jared’s mom’s bathroom. But it was too late, I was already in it, it was already dirty, and I would have to clean it anyway.
I stood in the shower and turned on the water. When it hit me, black spots of grime splattered everywhere. I wiped down the shower curtain and the walls while I showered.
Once everything was clean, I closed my eyes and let the hot water beat on my back and neck. I tried to relax, or at least stop shaking. But it was hopeless. I couldn’t stop. My lower lip trembled uncontrollably.
Then I started to cry. It happened suddenly, and once it started I couldn’t stop. The tears and sobs came pouring out of me. I cried and sobbed and moaned until I couldn’t stand up anymore. I had to sit on the bottom of the tub while the hot water poured over the front of my head.
After I’d cried for a long time, I started to talk. I don’t know who I was talking to. God maybe. I kept saying I was sorry. I didn’t mean to do it. I asked why this had happened. What had I done to deserve this? I wasn’t a violent person. I never got in fights. It wasn’t fair.
It was so not fair....
After a few minutes, I thought I heard something in the house. I stood up. I shut off the water. I listened. But no, it was nothing. A heater had turned on. No one was there. It was just the unfamiliar house.
I stepped out and wrapped a towel around my waist. With a sponge from under the sink, I inspected every inch of the tub for black grime or blood or any clues of my being there. Then I picked up the garbage bag of my clothes and went downstairs.
In Jared’s room I felt better. I felt the daring spirit of Jared around me. Crazy, insane Jared who did illegal stuff all the time. He was famous for it. For the first time, I had the thought:
Maybe I can get away with this.
I quickly reminded myself that I would not be
getting away
with anything, since I hadn’t really done anything. At least nothing that anyone in the same situation wouldn’t have done.
It was an accident,
I reminded myself. It really was. It was nobody’s fault. It was something that just happened.
I went to Jared’s bureau and opened the top drawer. I needed clean clothes. I pawed through Jared’s stuff. He was bigger than I was. He was a thirty waist. I found some boxer shorts. I held them up, looked at them.
Would I tell Jared?
No.
Possibly.
Maybe.
I would decide that later. I slipped on the boxers. They were loose but wearable. I went back to the bureau and found some baggy shorts and put them on. I found a big Rampage hoodie and some thick white socks and put those on. I clicked on Jared’s boom box and tuned it to KEX. The weatherman said it would rain later. That was good, I thought, rain would cover things. It would cover footprints and blood tracks. Rain made things new again.
Then, in my mind, clear as a video replay, I saw the security guard getting pulled down under the train. I saw him get folded up like a rag doll. Then I saw the other picture: the body, mangled, severed, half of him on one side of the tracks, half on the other. I sat on Jared’s bed and burst into tears, swallowing and gasping and moaning all over again. I cried for several moments, then stopped. I had no tears. I was cried out. I had nothing left.
I fell asleep on Jared’s bed with my clothes on. I dreamed I was in a police station, sitting on a chair, in a hallway. But it wasn’t exactly a police station; it was more like a hospital. Nurses even walked by. As I sat, I tried to decide if I should stay or go; there was still time to leave since I hadn’t given my name yet. Then a woman was brought in. She was in handcuffs, and she had a terrified look on her face. They were taking her to the basement, where they operated on you, where they took things out of you, against your will....
I woke up with a start. My forehead was damp with sweat. Outside, it was still dark. The rain fell gently on the trees outside Jared’s window.
Jared. What about him? He broke the law all the time. He didn’t think anything of it. Skaters’ code. Skater law. Cops suck. Never tell a cop anything. Never help a cop in any way.
I lay back on the bed and blinked at the ceiling above me. I liked how warm I felt, how safe I felt in Jared’s room. I liked the sound of the rain. It reminded me of being younger, a little kid, sitting at the window, all the dreams you had when you were young, all the hopes for your future....
I was so screwed.
I sat up and glanced around the room.
I was so screwed.
What was I going to do?
I shouldn’t waste time. I needed to talk to someone. I needed to take action and get this weight off me. My dad. That was the person to talk to. I knew where he was-at my uncle Tommy’s. I turned on the light and found Jared’s portable phone. I could already feel the relief of telling him....
I dialed my uncle’s number. But I couldn’t remember the last four numbers. I tried again. But I still couldn’t remember. I dialed 411. The automated voice gave me my uncle’s number. It offered to connect me for fifty cents but it was Jared’s phone, so I hung up and dialed it myself. I waited. My heart began to pound. It connected. My heart thudded in my chest. It rang once ... twice....
I hung up.
But that was stupid. What was I doing? I had to call my dad. I started to dial it again, and again I stopped.
No. Don’t involve your family. They didn’t do it. They’re innocent. I should call the police myself.
But who was I kidding? There was no way I was calling the police myself. I started to cry again. The sound of the rain was what did it. The sad, lonely, far-away sound of the rain. I flicked off the light and went back to the bed and lay down with the phone cradled to my chest.
Oh God, please help me,
I whispered, rocking slowly on the bed.
Please, please, God help me.
I slept fitfully, dozing in and out. At seven A.M., I woke up completely and got ready to leave Jared’s. But I didn’t dare show up at my own house that early. It would be suspicious. I had to stay at Jared’s. I tried watching TV, but it was Sunday morning, and it was all religious stuff and infomercials. I finally found some skate videos of Jared’s and put those on. I didn’t watch them, though. I couldn’t focus on anything.
Finally, at eight thirty, I headed home. I stashed the garbage bag of my clothes in my mom’s car and drove back to my own neighborhood. I knew of a Dumpster behind Mario’s Pizza near my house. I stopped there, pulling into the back parking lot. It was Sunday morning, Mario’s was closed, so no one was around. I casually took the bag of clothes out of my car and tossed it in. Then I drove to my parents’ house.
My mom and brother were both up. I could hear the TV on in the living room. I prayed to God my mother wasn’t in the kitchen. She wasn’t. I walked through the kitchen and skipped up the stairs.
My mom heard me. She called out, asking what I was doing home so early.
“We didn’t go to the Expo,” I yelled back. “Jared got sick.”
“What did he get sick with?”
“I’m not sure,” I yelled, and kept going up. I hurried down the hall to my room and shut the door. I tore off Jared’s clothes and quickly put on my own. I pulled on my other jeans and some old Adidas I had in my closet. I put on my own green OREGON sweatshirt.
It felt good to be home, in my own room, in my own clothes. It was a relief. Sort of.
“Honey!” called my mom. Her footsteps came down the hall toward my room. The door opened. “Honey?” she said, staring at me, studying my face.
“What?” I said, sitting quickly on my bed.
“Uncle Tommy called earlier. He said he got a call on his caller ID.”
“He did?” I said.
“It said it was from the Fitches’. He asked me if I knew anyone of that name, and I told him that’s where you were staying.”
“Oh,” I said.
“Did you call Uncle Tommy’s?”
“Oh ... uh ...” I thought for a moment. “Yeah, maybe I did, by accident.”
“He said the call was at four thirty in the morning.”
“Huh,” I said. “That’s weird.”
“Were you still awake then?”
“No,” I said, trying to think. “But you know what? That’s when Jared first woke up. Because he was sick. And so ... I guess I was thinking about calling Ryan and seeing if he wanted to go ... but then... I must have been half asleep or something....” I tried to smile. “Maybe I was sleepwalking.”
“What did you guys do last night?”
“Nothing. Just getting ready for the Expo. I wanted to see the new snowboards.”
The phone rang down the hall. “Henry, would you get that, please?” my mom yelled to my little brother.
I sat watching my mother.
“Were you trying to call Dad?” she asked me seriously. “Be honest.”
“No, I just... I must have dialed it by accident....”
“Is there something you want to talk to him about? Something about the separation?”
“No,” I said, “I just... it was an accident... calling Uncle Tommy, I mean.”
“Because you can talk to him, you know. At any time. We all need to keep the lines of communication open.”
“I know.”
“I should call over there myself,” said my mom, her face growing concerned. “I need to talk to Aunt Renee....”
“Mom! It’s for you!” yelled Henry from down the hall. My mother left the room.
I remained where I was, sitting on my bed, shaking.
I tried to lie down. But I couldn’t keep still. Henry had the TV blaring downstairs. I couldn’t stand the sound of it, coming up through the floor. I started to freak out. I couldn’t stay in my room.
I decided to go to the mall. I told my mom I wanted to go look at some snowboards, since I hadn’t been able to at the Winter Expo.
That was okay with her, but she needed the car, so I had to walk. Which was fine.
“Where’s your skateboard?” she asked as I headed out the door.
“I left it at Jared’s,” I said, going out of the house.
But that wasn’t a very good excuse, I realized, as I walked down the driveway. People knew I always had my skateboard.
I walked toward Woodridge Mall. It was a long walk-too far, really; I should have gone the other way and taken the bus.
But I walked. The gray clouds hovered low in the sky. Raindrops began to fall. I wished I had a radio; I wanted to hear the news.
At the mall, I went straight to the magazine store. That day’s papers were there. I bought The
Oregonian
for fifty cents and took it to Burger King. I sat and flipped through the pages. There was nothing in the main section about the security guard, nothing in the metro section.

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