The Dark Light (8 page)

There was nothing there.

I glanced up to the bedroom window where Willie still watched. I shrugged at her, confused. “What did you see, Jay?”

The corn whispered quietly around us.

“Jay?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. He took my hand. “I thought I saw my mom.”

* * *

I spoke to Pete in the kitchen first thing the next morning.

“I think we have a problem with Jay,” I said. “And I think it might be my fault.”

Pete looked up from cleaning his shotgun. “What kind of problem?”

I slid into a chair and braced myself for what I knew would be a difficult conversation. No matter how much Pete avoided talking about family, I had to tell him about what Jay had said he’d seen. I was worried.

“I think I might have stirred something up about him and his mom,” I said.

A long, awkward silence passed. Finally, Pete dropped his rag. “What about her?”

“It was the other night,” I replied, determined to be as delicate as I could. “He had this picture of her, so I asked him about it. Nothing heavy, just if he remembered her, that kind of thing. Only, he made up this tale about her being taken from him. He seemed worried that I was going to get snatched too. With Alex gone, I just thought he was mixing everything up. At least, that’s
what I thought. Then last night I found him out by the cornfield. He said he’d
seen
her out there.”

“His mother,” said Pete. He didn’t once blink.

“Yeah,” I replied. “In the
cornfield
.”

I expected Pete to dismiss it as crazy kid talk. But he stared at me as if he were really listening. A first for Pete.

“What else did he say?” he asked.

“Nothing yet. I wish I hadn’t asked him about her. Stacey Ann’s probably been filling his head with crap about Alex. Now he thinks he sees his mom. I just wondered whether we should mention it to Doctor Peak. Did you call him yet?”

As soon as I mentioned Doctor Peak, Pete went back to his gun. “Haven’t had a chance.”

“But you’re gonna call him, right? About the tattoo?”

I regretted saying anything as Pete slid into one of his moods.

A horn tooted from the driveway.

“That’ll be Willie,” I said, and grabbed my bag.

Pete didn’t look up, no good-bye, no have a nice day. I knew what it meant. He’d take off somewhere and wouldn’t be back until late. I had work after school, which meant Jay would be alone for most of the evening unless I called Mrs. Baker and asked her to watch him.

Mothers. The Stone family taboo.

When would I ever learn to keep my big mouth shut?

* * *

In my experience, days that start badly rarely get better.

First period: Rifkin, Lord of Grumpton, piled on yet more homework. Seth was sulking at lunch having heard that Willie planned to ask Jake out. And then Sally Machin must have heard about me and Andy going to prom because she bashed into me in the hallway, and then flounced off after sending a fatal look in my direction.

By the end of the school day, I was ready to climb into bed. Except I had a shift at Mickey’s. Worse still, because of Rusty’s demise and Willie’s club volleyball practice, I had to go there straight from school . . . on the bus.

There was something about the school bus that made me want to give up the will to live. First, it smelled like an old folk’s home, a mixture of baby powder and urine. Secondly, it picked up from the elementary school before it came to Crownsville High, and the little twerps on my route thought it was hilarious to yell “boobs” and pinch the asses of anyone over the age of fifteen who got on. I stood close to the school steps, staring at the beast as if it were my nemesis, here to vanquish me.

“Mia?”

“I know,” I snapped. “I’m getting on the wretched thing.”

As soon as I spoke, I realized it wasn’t the usual scolding voice in my head. I spun around. Then I cringed.

Sol stood behind me. He glanced at the bus.

“You crept up on me,” I said, wanting to add “Again!” I was curious, though, about what he wanted.

“Sorry about that.”

I couldn’t help but accept his apology. The piercing intensity had gone from his eyes and—did I dare say it?—he appeared
approachable
. Of course, approachable is easy when you have the upper hand. I mean, he had just caught me talking to myself.

“In my defense,” I said. “I don’t always talk to myself. I was getting psyched up for the bus.”

For the first time ever, Sol Crowley smiled. And what a smile it was. It reached every part of his face, especially his eyes. At the same time, with a subtle shrug, he shifted his weight, left to right. His wide shoulders relaxed. His long, tanned arms hung loose at his side, and suddenly he didn’t seem as intimidating as the Sol I’d first spoken to only days before.

“You should sit next to that kid who’s licking the windows,” he said.

It was intriguing to hear him speak again. He had that sexy voice that came from somewhere deep inside his chest, one I could listen to all day. I was going to prom with Andy, but I was still human. Sol
was
hot. There was no way around it. I smiled too.

“Who, Ike?” I said. I pointed to the bus where Ike Greenwald was, indeed, licking the windows. “He’s my best bud.”

The bus door closed.

“I should go,” I said, though for some reason, I really didn’t want to. Yes, I’d made my decision yesterday: No more dark, moody mysteries. Life from here on in was going to be light, bright, and fluffy. But Sol was smiling, making jokes. And I was curious—
everyone
was curious—about him. Besides, I still had to return his book.

Two girls approached from the right, walking straight at Sol, obviously hoping to brush past him by the giggly expressions on their faces. Without so much as a sideways glance, he leaned away, foiling their plan. He had to have known he was their target, but he didn’t acknowledge it. I guess when you looked as good as Sol, you got used to being stared at all day.

Torn, I glanced at the bus. Ike’s face was still pressed against the glass. Time for a decision. Get on the bus now or risk being late for my shift.

“I’ll give you a ride,” said Sol, as if reading the torment on my face. “I can’t let you put yourself through that.”

His motivation for the offer was a mystery. Maybe he wanted to talk about the dream bird or last night on the river. Maybe he’d finally decided to try to make friends at Crownsville High. But a ride? I didn’t know anything about him. Would I get into a car with a potential psychopath? Even if he was a cute one? Apparently, yes.

“I’m actually heading to work,” I said. “At Mickey’s. On Main.”

“I’ve seen you there.”

The bus pulled away. Decision made. Sol Crowley was about to drive me to work.

Everyone takes a turn feeling watched when they are in high school, but strolling across the parking lot with Sol, I
knew
every eye was on us. Word was bound to reach Andy that Mia Stone had climbed into the new kid’s truck. Half the school already knew Andy had asked me to prom. I felt my reputation begin to tatter. But it was too late to turn back. Sol actually
held open
the passenger door of his truck. He gestured for me to climb in.

“Unless you think I’m the kiddie snatcher too,” he said.

My cheeks burned as soon as he said it. “Of course not,” I replied, and to prove the point, I got in.

But I wondered if I’d made the right choice when Sol got in and closed the door behind him. The cabin suddenly felt very small. His long limbs and broad shoulders filled the space. He pulled out of the parking lot.

“So how do you like Crownsville?” I asked, unable to think of anything else to say, and wondering if this time I might get an answer.

“It’s different,” he said.

We stopped at a red light, and I caught him watching me out of the corner of his eye. I got the feeling he was studying me as much as I’d studied him.

“No one
really
thinks you took those kids,” I said.

He smiled. “I didn’t think they did until about a second ago.”

Shut up, Mia.

The light turned. Sol went back to watching the road. It was a relief. There was something about him I couldn’t pinpoint. It was as if he already knew me, or expected me to say something, but I wasn’t sure what. It was a little like when Rifkin called on you in class, and you realized that you’d been daydreaming and had no idea what the question was. I hated those moments because usually I filled them with pointless chatter like, “Is Crownsville High much different from your old school?”

“Very,” he said.

“And where was that?”

Sol stared at the road. It was difficult to know where to look. His face in profile, with his straight nose and strong jaw, was as gorgeous as he was head on. His smile faded. I wasn’t sure why, but I was suddenly cast back to the ferry and Gus’s intensity as he gazed into the fog. Sol’s huge hands gripped the wheel, the tendons in his arms straining as he twisted the vinyl. “It was some place far away.”

Another red light. I hadn’t noticed how many lights there were down here. As soon as we stopped, Sol again faced me.

“Why were you on the river last night?” he asked.

The cabin seemed to shrink even further. All I could see were Sol’s wide shoulders, his long arms, and the questioning look in his eyes. I glanced at his hands, which moments before had squeezed the wheel, and thought of Kieran and his crazy conspiracies. They
were
pretty big hands. Strong hands. The kind that could easily grab a kid off the street. I swallowed.

“My car died,” I said, cursing Kieran for making me feel so uneasy. “Mr. Mason was giving me a ride to Miller’s Crossing.”

“But why were you up there?”

“Well . . .” I took a breath. There was no reason to feel this nervous, no matter how hard he’d twisted that wheel. Whatever the rumors were about Sol, he’d done nothing to deserve them. He wasn’t the most open guy, but he had just started at a new school. I couldn’t blame him for keeping his distance. It didn’t mean he was about to leave me dead in a ditch.

“I was coming to return your book.”

“So you know where I live.”

“Everyone does.”

“Are you often up at the Ridge?”

A horn honked and our eyes snapped forward to find that the light had changed. Sol drove on.

“Sometimes,” I said. “Mainly in summer. Sometimes we go to Jacob’s Lake. It’s about fifty miles from here. A couple of guys from school have homes up there.”

“And the rest of the time?”

“I don’t know. Just what anyone does in a town this size.”

We pulled up in front of Mickey’s, ending what had almost been the longest ten minutes of my life. I reached for my bag. “Thanks,” I said, and handed him his book.

Sol took it. He continued to watch me as if my face were covered in a thousand captions and clues. “You never did tell me where you’d seen the Lunestral,” he said.

“You never asked.”

“I’m asking now.”

This was unknown territory. Having a mother in prison, a loser father, a depressive uncle. No problem. I’d admit it to anyone who asked. But admit that Jay had a tattoo?

“My half brother has the same tattoo,” I said, shocked to hear the words coming from my mouth. “Only, he’s much younger—he’s only ten. My dad and his wife gave it to him before he came to live with us; we planned to remove it. It’s an unusual design, so I just wondered—”

“If you knew where mine came from, you might discover where your brother got his.”

He was smart, at least.

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess I did.”

Sol leaned back in his seat, his face tilted in my direction. “Then I wouldn’t look too hard, Mia,” he said. “I doubt you’d find the answer you’re searching for. But remember, even if you remove it, once the dream bird’s touched you, you’ll always have its protection.”

Sol’s gaze held me. Tiny veins of golden flecks ran through the brown in his eyes. Almost hypnotized, I watched him, as if he’d stepped from the book of myths and legends that now lay between us on the seat. How was I ever going to explain this to Willie?

“You should get to work,” said Sol, and the moment vanished.

He was right. After all, it was Thursday night. Chicken special. Always a winner at Mickey’s.

“Thanks,” I said, though I wasn’t certain what I was thanking him for. The ride? The book?

Clutching my bag to my chest, I opened the door, part of me reluctant to leave. Whoever Sol was, wherever he’d come from, he’d brought the dream bird to Crownsville and had given meaning to Jay’s tattoo. For that, I was grateful.

I shot him a half smile. “I’ll see you around.”

* * *

I returned from work that night to find the house empty and a note from Pete that Jay was at Stacey Ann’s. I stopped when I entered the living room. An empty whisky bottle stood on the
end table beside the couch. The scent was thick in the air. Just when I’d thought Pete was doing better. But then it was always the same with Pete. One trigger and he’d be off again.

I showered, then threw on my sweats. Rifkin’s assignment waited on my desk. It felt like years since I’d sat in the library with the dream-bird book as Andy invited me to the prom. But the world continued on and with it, Rifkin’s assignment. I flicked through my notebook until I came to the page of doodled
S
s.

Sol.

It was no good. Rifkin’s clash of civilizations couldn’t compete with the images of Sol that swirled in my mind. Sol, who came from some place far away. I wished myself there now.

Distracted, I reached for my mom’s velvet box and flipped open the lid. Twenty-four hours ago, the necklace had been part of Willie’s plans for prom. It had been all about Andy, about finding the perfect dress. Now the color of the golden stones reminded me of the flecks in Sol’s eyes.

I took the necklace to the mirror and fastened it around my neck. It actually looked better on than it did in the box. I’d never really thought I’d wear it to prom, but now it struck me as kind of vintage, a sort of shabby chic.

Headlights appeared outside, followed by the soft rumble of an engine. I wandered to the window as the Bakers’ car pulled up. Jay climbed out.