Silent Witness (20 page)

Sue turned to him. Softly, she asked, ‘Do you feel guilty? I mean, about us.'

Silent, Tony parsed his thoughts. ‘I guess I feel confused. Last night, at the dance, I was missing Alison so much it hurt.'

Sue watched his face. ‘Maybe you still do, Tony. Maybe you kept on missing her, and I was here.'

‘No,' he said reflexively, and then, looking at Sue, realized that he meant this. ‘Nothing can stop me from missing her. But this doesn't feel like we're all about Alison. I don't think we ever were.'

There was something new in her eyes, he thought: the wish to believe this, yet the refusal to ask him what, in her heart, she thought unfair to ask. He touched her hair. ‘Tonight was different, Sue, than how I was with Alison.'

‘How?'

Tony breathed in. ‘The night she died,' he told her, ‘I was ashamed of wanting her. Even before I found her that night, I believed what we did was a sin, something to confess.' He paused, finishing softly: ‘Maybe I
have
changed. But you don't feel like a sin to me. Except maybe against Sam.'

For a moment, she touched his face. ‘At least you don't have to live with it alone.'

Tony pondered her meaning. ‘Do you plan to tell him?' he asked.

She slid next to Tony, holding him tight. ‘I don't want to think about it. I don't want to think about anything but this.'

Tony held her, stroking her hair and back. After a time, her body relaxed, her breathing eased, and then she was still; to Tony, it was as if her desire to escape their shared betrayal had resolved itself in sleep. He drew the blanket over them. The tenderness he felt, growing with each breath she drew, was a secret only from her.

Tony could not sleep. At first, he thought of Alison, with deep sadness but not guilt. And then, for a long time, he wondered what would happen to the three who remained – to him, to Sam, to this lovely girl, his friend, suddenly Tony's for a night. But the night was already fading; with the first streaks of light, erasing the stars and graying the darkness, Sue Cash stirred in his arms.

Waking, her face was fresh, untroubled. For an instant, she looked up at him in surprise, and then, remembering, she smiled.

‘How long was I asleep?'

He kissed her. ‘A long time.'

‘Too long.' When she looked at him again, her face was sad. Softly, she said, ‘We've got to go.'

Tony was silent. After a moment, Sue began to dress. ‘No,' he said. ‘Not for a minute.'

Sue stood there for him, naked, looking into his eyes. Then she came forward and put her arms around him, as if kissing Tony goodbye, and picked up her gown again. They watched each other as she dressed.

Turning her back, she asked, ‘Get my zipper?'

He did that. ‘I don't like this part,' he said. It was meant to sound joking, but did not, quite. Nor did Sue look at him when she answered.

‘I know.'

She helped him with his studs. As they picked among the wreckage of their picnic, Tony felt like a scavenger at the end of the world. When everything was in his trunk, they stood next to each other, looking at the bare matted grass.

‘In an hour,' Sue said, ‘no one could ever guess.'

Quiet, they drove to Sue's. In the first light of day, the town was still silent, street upon street. He had not been up this early, Tony remembered, since driving home from the police station, dull and heartsick, on the morning after Alison's murder.

He felt Sue's hand on his knee and covered it with his own.

‘Can we talk?' he asked. ‘In a couple of days, after this has sunk in a little.'

She turned to him. ‘I'd like that, Tony.'

He felt a kind of peace settle in. They were quiet the rest of the way; as they turned into Sue's driveway, her hand was curled in his.

Sam was sitting on her front steps.

Tony felt Sue tense. Neither spoke; only when they parked did Sue withdraw her hand.

By unspoken consent, they got out of the car together, to face whatever happened.

Sam still wore his tuxedo pants and ruffled shirt. He was pale, his hair disheveled. Sue had kept his car keys; Tony guessed that Sam had walked the mile to Sue's house from his own. His eyes seemed bruised, rimmed with red.

As Tony and Sue stopped, a few feet from him, Sam looked from one face to the other. He stood, walking toward Tony.

Tony braced himself. Their eyes met, and then Sam rested his hand on Tony's shoulder and slowly shook his head.

‘I'm sorry, pal. I'm really, really sorry. For all of us.'

It took Tony by surprise. After a moment, he said, ‘So am I.'

‘Not your fault.' Pausing, Sam tried to smile. ‘Thanks for looking after Sue.'

This was, Tony knew, meant as both thanks and dismissal. Tony turned to Sue, hesitant. The time that he spent looking into her eyes, suddenly moist, seemed longer than it must have been.

‘Bye, Sue,' he said softly, and felt Sam turn to watch her. The smile she gave Tony changed nothing on her face.

‘Thanks, Tony. For everything.'

Tony walked to the car. He switched on the motor, trying not to look back at them. When he finally did, in the rearview mirror, Sam was leaning his forehead against the crown of Sue's head, mutely asking her forgiveness.

Two days after making love with Sue, Tony sat in the high school gym for what would be the last time, watching the coaches pass out the final sports awards.

Tony had begun here as a freshman and become the quarterback; the three sports assemblies held each year, fall, winter, and spring, had punctuated his life as he passed through Lake City High School. Each marked another season of striving; of team-mates and new memories; and, at the end, a token block-shaped L. Now his drawer contained eleven letters. This assembly, his twelfth, was the culmination he once had imagined, as early as his freshman year, when Tony knew that either he or Sam Robb would become Athlete of the Year.

Sam sat across the gym, with Sue. She was quiet, Tony saw. This afternoon they would meet; perhaps, like Tony, she was not sure what would happen. He knew only that, with an intensity that surprised him, he wished Sue Cash were with him now.

Next to him, Ernie Nixon whispered, ‘Taking bets on your chances?'

Tony did not take his eyes off Sue. ‘Slim,' he finally answered, ‘and none.'

Below them, the awards went on. Tony already held his baseball letter; for him, the coach passing out the track team letters was background noise. Restless, he saw Sam watching the letters dwindle, his mind clearly elsewhere. Tony waited until Sue spotted him; she tilted her head, one corner of her mouth forming a slightly querying smile. To Tony, the current between them was so strong that it seemed as though Sam could not help but feel it, and then Sue looked away.

The last few letters passed as slowly as a minuet. At the corner of his eye, he saw Sam stare at the speaker's podium. Tony had never seen him sit so still.

At last, the track coach sat, and Principal Marks came to the podium.

It had become the principal's privilege – because George Marks enjoyed the drama – to award the trophy for Athlete of the Year. The coaches who sat in folding chairs behind him – football, basketball, baseball, and track – had already made their choice. Tony tried to read Coach Jackson's face; that it was grim, as usual, gave away nothing. The award was Sam's, Tony told himself again.

On the floor of the gym, George Marks gazed admiringly at the bronze figure of a Greek marathon runner. Tony sensed some kids glancing at him, others gazing at Sam.

‘This highest award,' George Marks began, ‘is given to that senior whose talent, determination, and sheer hard work best epitomize the spirit of Lake City High School. . . .'

In other years, this peroration had made Tony smile. ‘You'd think it was the Medal of Honor,' he'd once joked to Sam. ‘I keep expecting him to say, “tested on foreign soil.”'

‘This year's winner,' Marks went on, ‘is more exemplary than most.

‘True, he has been a star in three sports – football, basketball, and baseball. But much more than that, he has shown those traits that we all need in life: character, leadership, grace under pressure, strength in adversity, and, no matter what, the refusal to be distracted by anything but the task at hand. . . .'

For the first time, despite everything, Tony felt a sudden stirring hope. ‘And yet there is more,' George Marks said solemnly. ‘For this young man has also endured a tragic loss. Something which, in a lesser person, might have distracted and even damaged him. . . .'

Tony froze; people were turning to stare. Across from him, Sam looked stricken.

‘And so,' George Marks concluded, ‘the winner of the coveted Athlete of the Year award, like his late brother Joe before him, is
Sam Robb
.'

Tony shut his eyes.

When he opened them, Sam sat motionless. Then Sam stood abruptly, as if pulled from his seat, face filling with amazement and, then, something close to rapture. Sue turned from him, to Tony. And then Sam was hugging her; for an instant, she looked startled, then she hugged him back.

Breaking away, Sam headed for the floor, two stands at a time. The cheers rose; as he walked toward George Marks, Sam's face shone with an astonished, innocent joy. He looked, Tony thought, like a man delivered to himself.

On another day, Tony might have been happy for him: the way Sam cried out for generosity. Even as, on some other day, this might have moved Tony to wonder about the transcendence of a single moment, the illusion – which the years would surely betray – that such a moment can change a lifetime. But what Tony felt, to his surprise and even shame, was jealousy. He could only hope that Sam Robb's feelings lasted longer than his own.

‘Sorry,' Ernie Nixon murmured.

‘It's okay. I wasn't expecting it.'

Sue, he thought, would understand. But she was smiling at Sam now, knowing what this meant to him.

For once, there was no exultation in Sam's posture, no showiness. He took the trophy from George Marks and gazed at it, shaking his head in wonder. Perhaps, Tony thought, this trophy had brought Sam closer to the best in him – there was something attractive, even humbled, about Sam in his moment.

Sam turned to the stands. For a moment, Tony did not realize that Sam was coming to him, trophy in hand.

Tony sat there, watching with a kind of fascination as Sam stopped two steps below him. As the others moved aside, Sam took the trophy and tossed it underhand, to Tony.

‘Nice catch,' Sam said.

Tony looked up from the trophy. Taking the last two steps, Sam pulled Tony to his feet and hugged him.

The first applause was scattered. Then the gym filled with it, as though Sam had bestowed forgiveness on Tony Lord. Tony could feel Sam's emotions in the tightness of his embrace.

As he leaned back to see Tony's face, Sam's eyes shone with tears. In a husky voice, he said beneath the white noise of the gym, ‘You'd have won . . .'

‘No. You were always going to win.'

Sam slowly shook his head. ‘If we're not friends,' he said softly, ‘I'd sooner have lost it.'

Tony tried to smile. ‘Then we're friends,' he said, and handed Sam the trophy. ‘Congratulations.'

Their moment was over.

Gratefully, Sam gripped Tony's shoulder. Then he turned and walked across the gym, to Sue. Amidst the cheers, Tony was left with the sudden reversal of their roles, the sour aftertaste of Sam's blessing, the sudden bitter knowledge that, in his pride, Tony had taken as his right that he would always be the leader and that Sam, the led, would envy him.

When Tony looked up again, Sam was holding Sue.

Waiting where they had made love, Tony saw Sue appear in the grove of maples. A few feet from him, Sue stopped, and then she ran forward to kiss him.

‘I've missed you,' Tony said.

‘I've missed you too.' She took both of his hands in hers. ‘I'm sorry, Tony.'

He looked at her, trying to see what she meant. Softly, he answered, ‘It mattered to me, after all. But maybe Sam needed something to win.'

She tilted her head, brown eyes probing. ‘Am I something to win?'

‘Is that what you think?' Tony's voice filled with feeling. ‘Two nights ago, we were right here. If I can't think of you with him, it's because of that.'

Suddenly there were tears in her eyes. ‘Tony, this is about a lot more than who I sleep with. It's more about if I can sleep at all. . . .'

Tony pulled her close. Resting against his shoulder, Sue murmured, ‘Try to understand what's happening to me.'

‘Tell me, all right?'

‘I think I'm falling in love with you.' She leaned back, touching his face. ‘We've always been friends, Tony. Talk to me like your friend Sue, who's in love with a boy she isn't sure she should love, and doesn't know what to do.'

Tony knelt to the grass, taking her with him. ‘Today, in the gym, I wanted you with me.'

Sue closed her eyes. ‘I know. . . . I could tell. But that's not an answer.' She looked at him again, hands resting on his shoulders. ‘Sam needs me too, more than you ever will. Can you understand that part?'

Tony's throat constricted. ‘I think so. But that's not all there is.'

Sue looked down. ‘You say that so easily. You must know what this would do to him, how bad it would be that it's
you
. . . .'

The truth of this made Tony quiet for a moment. ‘But what about
you
?'