Authors: Richard Laymon
‘I’m not really used to having visitors at this hour,’ she told him.
‘I’m not used to being one.’
She made a quick, high laugh. ‘Well,’ she said. She glanced at the other end of the sofa, seemed to consider sitting there, then turned away and crossed over to a leather hassock. She lowered herself onto it, smiling a little nervously and pressing the T-shirt down between her thighs. Her knees were higher than her waist. She quickly lowered them, stretching her legs across the floor toward Neal.
He smiled and took a drink. ‘Ah, good,’ he said.
‘Good.’ She took a sip. ‘So,’ she said. ‘How did you find me?’
If she’s unlisted, I’m screwed
.
‘I stopped at a pay phone. Checked the directory.’
‘Ah.’ She nodded, apparently satisfied.
Thank God!
‘And you were a friend of Darren’s?’ she asked.
Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy
.
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘We were classmates.’
Everybody has gone to school, right?
But he saw a look of confusion on Karen’s face. ‘That’s funny,’ she said. ‘You look a
little
familiar, but gosh . . . I knew all his friends at SC . . .’
‘Oh! Not SC. University of Southern California? No. Not there. We were high school friends.’
What if he’s not my age?
‘Ah. That explains it.’
Thank God, Neal thought.
If she keeps on asking questions, though
. . .
He suddenly had a brainstorm; a way to avoid further traps.
‘I actually haven’t heard from Darren in quite a while,’ he said. ‘I’ve tried calling him a few times, but . . .’ He shook his head. ‘Has he moved, or . . .?’ He shrugged, stared at Karen, and waited.
She gazed at him.
‘Do you have his new address, maybe?’
Pain came into her eyes.
Shouldn’t have asked! She’s gonna throw another fit! The guy probably kicked the bucket. New address, plot such-and-so at Friendly Hills Memorial Park or some damn place
.
But her voice sounded fairly calm when she said, ‘I have it. Sure.’ She took a drink of Pepsi, then reached out and set her glass on a nearby table. ‘I’ll get it for you.’ She drew up her knees.
‘Oh, that’s all right. Don’t get up and get it. Unless . . . you know. If you’re ready for me to go . . .’
‘No. I just thought you wanted it.’
‘I didn’t really come here for his address. I just wanted to meet you. He always . . . said such nice things about you.’
‘He did?’ She lowered her knees again, stretching her legs out.
‘Oh, yeah. Talked about how beautiful you are. He was right about that, too.’
She blushed and smiled and shook her head. ‘It’s very nice of you to say so, but . . .’
‘He told me he’d stopped seeing you.’
Careful. You’re pushing it
. ‘I really couldn’t understand that.’
Watch out
. ‘You sounded like such a great couple.’
She’s starting to look funny
. ‘I was awfully sorry to hear it hadn’t worked out.’
She looked as if, before her very eyes, Neal had turned into an odd but not unattractive brown chimp. ‘What are you talking about?’ she said.
‘You and Darren.’
‘What about us?’
‘Well, you know. He told me that you’d broken up.’
‘Broken up what?’
‘Your . . . you know, your relationship.’
She smiled in a frantic way, and her blush darkened to purple. ‘We never . . .’ She shook her head. ‘Nothing’s broken up. Just
because he got married doesn’t . . . I mean, he’ll always be my brother.’
Neal felt as if he’d been clubbed on the head.
He lifted the glass to his mouth, and drank, and tried not to choke.
There’s gotta be some mistake!
Lowering his glass, he said, ‘The other Darren. Not your brother. The
other
Darren. He must be the one I know.’
‘I don’t think I know any other Darren.’
I didn’t really think so
.
‘Sure you do,’ Neal insisted. ‘You must. The one I went to high school with. You don’t remember me, right?’
‘Not really. You look a little familiar, though. We might’ve met. Did you ever come over to the house? See, I didn’t go to Hamilton. Mom and Dad sent me to Saint Joan’s. That’s a parochial school downtown. They, you know, wanted to protect their little girl from all the big, bad teenage boys.’
Neal struggled to smile. ‘That explains it, then. The Darren
I
know went to Santa Monica High School. We both did. Samohi.’
‘Weird,’ Karen said.
‘Yeah. That his name should just happen to be Darren and he’d have a girlfriend named Karen . . .’ Neal tried to recall Karen’s last name.
I don’t know it! Never did!
Oh shit!
She watched him, her eyebrows rising above the rims of her glasses.
A few seconds passed. Then she asked in a quiet, wary voice, ‘Karen what?’
‘You know.’
‘
I
know. Don’t you?’
‘This is really embarrassing,’ he said. ‘I guess I’ve drawn one of those blanks. You know how sometimes a name just suddenly slips your mind for no reason at all?’
‘You just looked
mine
up in the phone book, didn’t you?’
‘Yeah. Sure, I did. But haven’t you ever had a name slip your mind?’
‘What’s going on?’ she asked.
Neal shook his head, shrugged, and tried to look innocent.
‘Maybe I’d better just leave now. I’m sorry I can’t remember your name.’ He laughed. ‘Half the time, I can’t remember my own.’
‘Neal Darden,’ she told him.
Splendid. Great. Spectacular. She remembers
.
‘If it’s even your real name.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’ll just leave, okay?’ He twisted sideways and set down his glass on the lamp table.
As he stood up, so did Karen.
As he stepped toward the front door, so did she.
She got there first, and put her back against it.
‘I just want to leave,’ he told her.
She stared into his eyes. ‘First tell me what’s going on. Only this time, how about the truth? You didn’t look me up in the phone book, did you? You don’t even know my last name, do you?’
‘Sure, I do.’
‘Stop lying, okay? Look, you seem like a decent person. I’m not going to call the police, or anything. I just want to know what you’re doing here.’
‘Okay,’ he said, and wondered what to tell her. Not the truth, that’s for sure. She wouldn’t believe the truth. Besides, Neal was not about to tell
anyone
about the bracelet.
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘I don’t know you. I’ve seen you around the neighborhood, and I . . . sort of followed you home one day.’ He smiled, trying to look sheepish.
‘Why?’
‘I wanted to know where you live.’
‘Why?’
‘Uh . . . I thought I might like to meet you. I know, that probably sounds kind of creepy. Like I’m a stalker, or something.’
‘A little bit,’ she said. But she seemed more intrigued than wary. ‘How did you find out my name?’
The mailbox? Neal wondered.
No! If her building was like most, her mailbox label wouldn’t show her first name. Probably just a K.
Followed by her full last name.
I should’ve looked there! I’d still be going along fine if I’d just taken the trouble to learn her last name!
Karen hoisted an eyebrow. ‘Trying to think of a good answer?’
I asked someone?
Sure. Who?
Saw her name somewhere? On her car registration?
Great idea. Give her the idea I searched inside her car. That’d
really
make me look like a jerk.
‘I’m just a little embarrassed,’ he said.
‘I bet you are.’
I saw her name on her driver’s license? How on earth would I get a look at her driver’s license?
Yes!
‘You’ll think I’m a real snoop,’ he said, ‘but at this stage of things . . .’ He grimaced. ‘I stood behind you in a checkout line at the grocery store, and sort of . . . I watched you filling out a check. All I could catch was your first name. I glimpsed the Karen, and then . . . I followed your car when you drove home.’
Please don’t ask any more questions!
She gazed at him. Frowning slightly, but not in an angry way. ‘You’re kidding,’ she said.
‘No. That’s basically it. Tonight, I just . . . I couldn’t wait any longer. I just had to come over and try to really meet you. I know it’s crazy. Coming at an hour like this. But ever since I found out where you live, I’ve been . . . I haven’t been able to think straight. So anyway. That’s that.’
‘Why?’ she asked.
‘What do you mean, why?’
‘Why me?’
‘I just . . . there’s something about you. The first time I saw you, I got this feeling. As if we’d known each other for a long time, or something.’
Her frown vanished. ‘I sort of . . . feel that way, too.’
‘I know this wasn’t the right way to go about meeting you. I mean, you probably think I’m some kind of lunatic . . .’
‘I don’t know.’ She shrugged. ‘Not really.’
‘That’s good. Anyway, now that we’ve met, I’d better get out of here so you can get some sleep. Maybe we could meet again tomorrow, or . . .’
‘That’d be great!’
‘Great,’ Neal said, trying to match her enthusiasm. ‘Dinner?’
‘Sure.’
‘Why don’t I pick you up? Say, around six?’
‘Six? Fine.’
‘Terrific.’
But she still blocked the door.
Neal gave her a big smile. ‘Are you going to let me out?’
She smiled back. ‘Maybe, maybe not.’
Oh, man. Now what?
‘Before I let you go,’ she said, ‘you’ve got to tell me one thing.’
No more questions! Damn!
‘Any second now,’ he warned, ‘I’m gonna turn into a pumpkin.’
‘Then I’ll make a pie,’ she said.
He didn’t like how she looked, saying that. He tried to keep smiling, but it wasn’t easy.
‘What do you want to know?’ he asked.
‘How did you know about Darren?’
Neal felt a sinking sensation.
The very question he didn’t want to hear.
‘How did I know
what
about Darren?’ he asked, trying to stall.
‘You said you were a friend of his,’ Karen explained. ‘That’s how you got me to let you in. So, if I’m just a stranger you . . . fell for and followed home, how do you know anything about Darren?’
‘Oh, I picked his name at random.’
‘Darren?’
‘Sure. Everybody knows a Darren.’
She didn’t seem amused. ‘Try again.’
Neal hesistated, then said, ‘You don’t really want to know.’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘You’re going to keep me here till I tell you?’
‘I’m not moving.’
‘I could move you.’
‘If you try, you’ll be sorry.’
‘I thought you wanted to go
out
with me.’
‘Maybe I do,’ she said. ‘You seem . . . I think you’re someone I might like very much. But I have to be able to trust you. There has to be honesty. And there hasn’t been much of that, so far. You got me to open the door under false pretenses, by
lying
to me. That’s no way to start a relationship.’
‘I know. But I just didn’t figure you’d open the door if I told you I was some Joe Schmo off the streets.’
She nodded as if she understood and agreed. But then she asked, ‘So how did you know about Darren?’
What the hell
.
‘From you,’ he said.
She frowned. ‘What’re you talking about?’
‘This is gonna sound crazy, and you’ll think it’s another lie. But it’s the truth. Honest to God. I have this gift, this ability . . . Sometimes, I can tell what someone’s thinking. I can read minds.’
Karen’s face went crimson. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said. ‘Every day, and twice on Sunday.’
‘When I came to your door? I concentrated on you. And I found Darren’s name in your mind.’