The Gingerbread Boy (4 page)

Daniel and Joey looked oddly at each other, managing half-smiles.

“Let’s just say I love almost all music,” Daniel said, bending down to retrieve his hat and scarf, “Except some types of rap. I’ve never gotten used to that. It makes me feel like banging my head against a wall.”

“Classical music makes
me
feel like banging my head against a wall,” Joey groaned.

“Then you must have listened to it a lot,” Daniel chided, “to explain that dopey mug of yours.”

“What do you mean
my
mug? The only time I’ve ever seen orangey eyes like yours was in a genetics lab, and they were attached to vermilion fruit flies.” Joey shot back.

“And what were they
doing
to you in that genetics lab?” Daniel asked.

Joey tipped his nose in the air. “Trying to learn how to clone such an intelligent, dashingly handsome fellow, of course.”

Daniel folded his arms. “Oh, and when they found one, they’d try to apply those characteristics to you?”

Joey scowled.

Catherine watched in amusement as Daniel and Joey continued to hurl good-natured insults at each other. It must be a practice that only the worst enemies, or best of friends, could take part in without throttling each other. Finally she stepped in. “Enough! You guys act like the Two Stooges.”

“The T
wo
Stooges?” Joey asked, slouching slightly so that the kneecaps on his jeans bulged on toothpick-thin legs. “You’re here, aren’t you? I count Three Stooges in this room, Eastie.”

Catherine blushed. She often forgot about her accent. She wondered if she dared call Joey “Southie” in rebuttal. She noticed Daniel eyeing her curiously.

She tilted her chin toward him. “I can take it. I’m not too serious, remember?”

“Better get used to the wisecracks around here.” Joey advised, “It never ends.”

Daniel’s eyes widened, and Catherine wished she could tell if they really were orange. She folded her arms and studied him. “I remember you telling me that Mr. Thayer was an old fashioned southern gentleman. That must have been before the genetics experiment. Maybe they reversed the process by mistake.”

Joey opened his mouth as if to say something, then remained silent.

“Nice job, Catherine.” Daniel whispered. “He’s speechless.”

“I have an older brother kind of like him,” she said.

“Does he pick on you like that, too?”

“At one time he did.”

Daniel and Joey looked curiously at her.

“Until I beat the snot out of him.”

Joey laughed and backed away. “Watch out for her, Daniel, she’s a wild one!”

Catherine’s jaw dropped slightly. She snickered to herself. Someone was actually calling
her
a wild one? Her brother, Tony, was the only one who’d ever considered her even remotely wild, and she hadn’t seen him in years. He could be dead for all she knew. She pushed that disturbing thought aside, as always, and dwelled on how most people now thought her too practical most of the time, too analytical. Wound up tighter than an eight-day clock, Tony once said. As prickly as a pinecone, but just as tough, he’d added. Yet with quirky, silly Joanne Prescott as one of her roommates now, Catherine felt she was changing. Thank goodness. And as much as she loved Hazel VanHoofstryver, she hoped never to become as crusty and distrustful of the world as her dear old friend back home.

Catherine eventually noticed that both Joey and Daniel were staring over her head. She turned to see them looking out the closest window. Her eyes widened at an outdoors obliterated in white.

“When did the snowstorm start?” she gasped.

“Minutes ago,” said Joey. “I’d heard we were in for a blizzard, but it’s a surprise that it’s starting this early in the season.”

“It’s a whiteout.” said Daniel.

All three fell into silence. About the same time the wind began to shriek around the windows, rattling them so badly Catherine was afraid they’d break and send snow swirling throughout the lonely old ballroom.

Finally Daniel turned to Joey. “I promised to get Catherine home safely, but the starter went out on Bruiser. I hoped to get a ride home from you, and maybe one for Catherine, too. She’s been walking forever.”

“Walking!” said Joey. “No one should be walking around in that. Sure, I’ll give her a ride home.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll probably eventually have to give half the drunks downstairs a ride too.”

Daniel held his scarf out to Catherine. “Why don’t you wear this,” he said. “You’ll need some protection from this weather.”

“But what about your cold, your sore throat?”

“I still have my hat. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure,” Catherine agreed as Daniel stepped close to gently wrap the scarf around her head. She found herself staring numbly at his mouth as he bundled her up.

“I’ve had this same scarf since my sister gave it to me when I was twelve years old,” he said quietly. It’s kind of ratty now, but it’ll keep your ears warm.”

Catherine suddenly realized the night was almost over, and she didn’t want it to end.

“We should take another stairway back down,” Joey said, jingling some keys in his pocket. “It’ll take us around all of the congestion down there.”

Catherine was puzzled. “Why do you seem to have keys for everything around here?”

As Joey started to walk off toward wherever the stairway lay, he looked back at her. “Didn’t Daniel tell you? I own this house.”

Catherine looked at Daniel in surprise

He wiggled his eyebrows. “I told you his rent was cheap,”

“I reckon there are a lot of things you didn’t tell her.” Joey laughed, walking off so that his voice was muffled.

But Catherine heard.

****

Dear Hazel,

I hope you are well. I’m fine…
Beth is still driving me crazy at the house, as usual. If it weren’t for Joanne’s goofiness, I’d have a nervous breakdown. I’m glad I found at least one good friend out here. Just last week she dragged me out to a march at the capital. This one protested the cruelty of experiments on lab animals. If it boils down to senseless torture, I understand why Joanne feels
so strongly, but someday I’m going to have to treat animal victims in my own practice, and just the thought of it makes me nauseous.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to mention this, but, well, here goes…
I met this guy last night, Hazel. Yes, he’s one of those “filthy abominations” as you say. But he’s like no one I’ve met before. He’s kind, he’s smart, and he makes me laugh. His hair is longer than I usually like, but it looks good. We’re just friends of course, you don’t need to worry. At this point in my life that’s how it must be. Still, it was great to run into a man I can connect with.

You won’t believe how we met! It all started out when I was in a lousy mood and took a long walk and thought Calvin was stalking me. Was I ever wrong.

Chapter Two

Julia’s eyes widened as she pulled her sandwich out of the paper sack. Daniel didn’t think he’d ever seen his little sister look as pleased. “You didn’t smoosh my peanut butter and jelly sandwich with my apple!” she said, digging in the bag to retrieve the fruit and a small box of raisins.

“I made a point to put the apple on the bottom of the bag ever since you told me Amy’s mother puts it in last, and lets it mush everything,” said Daniel, settling back on his elbows and stretching his long legs out on the blanket.

Julia seemed genuinely astonished he’d remember such a thing, and sprang to her feet to hug him. Daniel glowed inside. His eight-year-old sister adored him. He may as well have been Superman, or The Incredible Hulk, not a gangly teenage musician with an old Gibson guitar usually strapped on his back. He glanced over at a craggy tree where his guitar case leaned against the trunk. Maybe he’d entertain Jules with a few old tunes after the picnic. She loved it when he sang to her.

Julia was his biggest fan. She was certain he’d be famous one day.

She dropped down on the blanket again, giggling when her knees cracked beneath her. She took a big bite of her sandwich and stared up at the sky.

“I’m glad it’s finally sunny out,” she said. “It feels good on my face.”

“Mine, too,” Daniel agreed. “It’s still pretty cold out, though. We’re lucky it warmed up enough for this picnic. It could snow any time up here in early November.”

“I know,” said Julia, fiddling with the scarf Daniel had asked her to wear in case the wind came up. “I still don’t like snow much. Not yet, anyway.”

Daniel stared at her. Julia was such a sweet child, a blessing to their family. But she’d always been fragile. It worried him and their mother endlessly.

Julia took another bite of her sandwich. A large crumb fell from her mouth and landed in her lap. Picking it up, she tossed it into the woods. “For the birds,” she said. “Whatever kind of birds they have here. I don’t think they have any that look like Yoo-Hoo, though, do they?”

Daniel laughed. “No Jules, I’m pretty sure parrots only live in the jungle.”

“I miss the jungle.”

“Yeah,” Daniel said quietly, “Me, too,”

“I miss dad.”

Daniel lowered his eyes and picked absently at a blade of grass.

“Me too.”

There was a thoughtful silence. At last Julia’s eyes flicked toward her brother. “Do you think we’ll ever go back to South America?”

He bit his lip. He, Julia and their mother had only relocated to the States in the last year. Their father had passed away from heart problems in a remote area near Pacupall, Peru, where they’d been living as missionaries. Rampant disease, mostly cholera, had sickened many of the villagers, including Julia. Despite treatment, the illness had nearly taken Julia from them. Daniel secretly doubted their mother had the strength to ever return. She’d brought her remaining family back to America to be near relatives in Michigan, as if hoping to erase the painful memories from her mind and re-adjust to the alien culture she’d once known as a young girl.

Julia finished her sandwich and grinned, as if forgetting about going back. “I do like the food here better though,” she said, licking her fingers, “I got sick of fish, rice and bananas.”

Daniel laughed. Fish, rice, and the plantains his mother used to boil like potatoes had made up their main diet for so many years, that now, something as simple and common as a peanut butter and jelly sandwich was an unbelievable luxury. He also loved the food, but had not packed a lunch for himself this afternoon because he had a sore throat. Food would scrape going down, and he’d rather save his voice for singing. His music made the transition to another country easier for her. Even though Daniel’s voice could no longer be joined with their father’s, it was still comforting to Julia, and Daniel was thankful for that.

Julia noticed him glance at his guitar. She pulled off her scarf, handed it to him and said, “ I can tell you want to sing, but I know your throat hurts. You should wear this instead of me.”

“I feel fine, keep it.” Daniel said.

“Wear it just for a little while,” Julia pleaded, “So you don’t get more sick. I want you to be famous some day, just like people on radio and TB.”

“You mean TV,” Daniel chuckled, taking the scarf and obligingly wrapping it around his neck. “I don’t think this matches my wardrobe, Jules.”

“That’s okay. At least it’s bright. I could see you from miles away.”

“Why would you need to do that?” Daniel asked, watching her jump to her feet. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

“To get your guitar. You were staring at it.”

“I was?” Daniel asked, drawing to a sitting position and crossing his legs in front of him. He watched the awkward little girl with the bright smile and flowing brown hair walk toward the tree, and then closed his eyes. She was right; the sun did feel good on his face. It made up for the cold, nearly prickly feel of the air. He decided that, although he missed the jungle and its thick, exotic smells, he also enjoyed the smell of the cold. Here, in the woods, the air smelled clean, like sticks. Bark. Evergreen. It was a fresh scent, a cleansing scent. Maybe there were things here he could grow to love besides the food.

Daniel’s eyes flew open as a rifle shot pierced the silence.

What in the world? This was a state park, off-limits to hunters. In the next second, or it could have been simultaneous with that thought, he saw a flash of tan, heard a thud, and Julia was no longer standing near the tree.

“Julia?” he heard himself whisper, “Jules?” His voice quivered. “Julia!” He found the strength to rise to his feet on weak legs, rag legs, his heart hammering. “Julia!”

Then he saw the form lying in the tall grass a few feet away. He stared down at the crumpled body of his little sister, lying face up in the weeds, eyes closed. Daniel felt a sudden sense of dislocation, almost as if he were receding from the scene, fading into the forest of oak and pine behind him. He couldn’t breathe.

This wasn’t happening.

Then
,
as the buzzing of reality filled his ears, terror sliced into him, engulfing him so completely that it pushed the remaining air out of his lungs. He had to claw himself back to reality enough to lean forward, cautiously, as if Julia would be frightened at his horrified gaze.

Julia’s eyes fluttered open and fixed on his. “C-cold, Danny. Why is it so c-cold?”

Goosebumps rose on his arms. He tried to hold eye contact, to comfort her, tried to ignore the stain of red spreading through her cream-colored sweater. “You’re going to be fine,” he said, his voice cracking, “Stay with me, sweetie. Just stay with me!”

With that, he gathered her in his arms. She felt so buoyant, so bony. And, to his horror, so sticky. Julia gazed up at him with luminous hazel eyes, shining, and then dulling in the light of day. “Help me, Danny,” she murmured before her eyes fell shut one final time.

****

Daniel wrestled in bed with his memories, twisting beneath the blankets. With each exhale of breath, however, the poisonous memories started to dissipate. At last he bolted upright, and wiped the sweat from his brow.