Authors: John Saul
No Phillip Kramer was listed.
Turning to the city directory, he looked up the address. The current occupants were Mr. and Mrs. Roland P. Strassman.
Bronski picked up the phone, dialed their number, and a moment later was talking to Mrs. Roland P., whose name turned out to be Mary.
She and her husband had bought the house from Phillip Kramer eight years ago.
No, Mr. Kramer had not been married. Yes, she was sure. In all the papers she and Rolly had signed, Mr. Kramer had always been referred to as “a single man,” which had struck her as funny, even though Roily had told her it was the proper way to talk about someone in legal papers. So she was sure Mr. Kramer hadn’t been married.
Bronski thanked her for the information, then sat at his desk, thinking.
His mind kept coming back to the telex.
First the chief had mentioned it, and if Bronski knew Cantrell as well as he thought he did, there was a reason. And then this message, which seemed totally irrelevant, yet made him uneasy.
Nine-year-old boy. Father’s name different from son’s.
Unwanted child?
Possibly born in Eastbury?
Bronski looked at the clock once more, then at the closed door of Orville Cantrell’s office. Making up his mind, he buttoned his collar and slipped into his coat As he started out of the building, the desk sergeant grinned at him. “Hot case, or cold beer?”
Bronski returned the grin, though he didn’t feel amused. “Maybe a little of both. But if the chief asks, tell him I’m working on the A&P thing, okay?”
“Sure.”
As he headed toward Lucy Corliss’s house, Bronski made a special point of driving down Brockton Street, past Charlie Hyer’s A&P. And just as he passed it, he noted with a certain amount of pleasure, it turned four o’clock.
He was off duty.
J
ASON MONTGOMERY WRIGGLED
uncomfortably in his chair and began counting the raisins in his cereal. Usually it was no more than a game. First he’d try to guess the number, then see if he was right. But this morning it was more: He was concentrating on his cereal in a vain attempt to shut out the sound of his parents’ voices.
It seemed to Jason as if the fighting was getting worse. Last week, when he had first become aware that his mother and father were mad at each other, they’d at least waited until he’d gone to bed before they started arguing.
This morning they didn’t even seem to know he was there. It was as if he were invisible. He looked up at his parents, who were sitting at either end of the dining-room table. Neither of them seemed aware of him. They were staring at each other, his mother’s face stony and his father’s red with anger.
“All I want you to do is go see Wiseman this afternoon,” he heard his father say. “Is that going to be so horrible? For God’s sake, he’s been your doctor for years. How can it hurt to go see him?”
“I already saw him,” Sally replied. “And I don’t trust him anymore.”
“But you do trust a woman you hardly know who’s not exactly in good shape herself?”
Sally’s eyes narrowed as she glared down the length of the table. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”
Steve sighed. Even though it was only 7:30, he already felt exhausted. “It just means that maybe Lucy Corliss could use some counseling herself.”
“How would you know?” Sally flared, the pitch of her voice rising dangerously. “You’ve never even talked to Lucy! How could you know what her mental condition is? Sometimes you talk like a damned fool!”
Putting down his spoon, Jason slid off his chair and left the dining room. But as he went upstairs to get his schoolbooks, his parents’ voices drifted after him, fighting about things he didn’t understand.
Was something wrong with Randy’s mother?
And why did his father want his mother to talk to Dr. Wiseman. Was something wrong with
her?
He gathered up his books, stuffed them into his green bookbag, then went back downstairs. He looked through the living room into the dining room, and though he couldn’t see his father, he could see the tears on his mother’s cheeks.
Should he go in and kiss her good-bye? But if he did, and she didn’t stop crying, he’d probably start crying himself.
He hated to cry.
Silently, speaking to neither his father nor his mother, Jason slipped out the front door into the warmth of the spring morning. The sounds of his parents’ fight faded away as he started along the sidewalk toward school.
Half a block ahead, he saw Joey Connors. Even though he and Joey had never been best friends, Jason decided to catch up with him. He broke into a trot, and in a few seconds was right behind the other boy.
“Hi,” he said, falling into step with Joey.
Joey looked at him, made a face, and said nothing.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. What do
you
want?”
Jason shrugged. “Nothing.” What was wrong with
Joey? Was he mad too? The two boys walked along in silence for a few minutes, then Joey spoke again.
“Why don’t you walk by yourself?”
“Why should I?” Jason demanded. He hadn’t done anything to Joey. Besides, what was he supposed to do, just stand there while Joey walked ahead of him? What if someone was watching? He’d look stupid.
“My mom doesn’t want me to hang around with you,” Joey replied, facing Jason for the first time.
Now Jason stopped, and Joey did too.
“Why not? What did I ever do to you?”
Joey, stared at the sidewalk. “My mom says there’s something wrong with your mom, and I shouldn’t hang around with you.”
Anger welled up in Jason. “You take that back.”
“Why should I? Ever since your sister died, your mom’s been acting funny, and besides, my mom says something must have happened to your sister.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” But even as he asked the question, Jason wondered if Joey’s mother knew what he’d done to Julie that night “She just died.”
“Bull!” Joey grinned maliciously. “I bet you did something to her. I bet you and Randy Corliss did something to her, and that’s why he ran away.”
Suddenly all the tension and confusion that had been churning in Jason fused together. His right hand clenched into a fist, and almost before he realized what he was doing, he swung at Joey.
Joey, too surprised to duck, stood gaping while Jason’s fist crashed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped, then hurled himself on Jason. Jason buckled under Joey’s weight, falling to the ground with the other boy on top of him. He struggled under Joey, ignoring the fists that were punching at his sides, but when Joey began beating him in the face, he screamed, and heaved himself over, rolling Joey under him. He sat astride Joey, returning the pounding he had just taken, while Joey thrashed on the ground, kicking out and flailing at Jason with his fists.
Suddenly Jason heard sounds, and looked up to see
two other children running toward them. Joey used the distraction to wriggle free, but he was bleeding from the mouth, and his left eye was already swelling. He was crying, partly from pain and partly from anger, and as Jason lay on the ground, Joey began kicking at him. Jason grabbed at Joey’s foot, caught it, and jerked the other boy off balance.
Again, they became a tangle of churning arms and legs, but suddenly Joey, realizing he was getting the worst of it despite his larger size, sank his teeth into Jason’s arm.
Jason screamed at the sudden pain, jerked free, and stood up. “You chickenshit!” he yelled. “You bit me!” Then he leaped onto Joey and held a threatening fist over the bigger boy’s face. “Give up,” he said. “Give up or I’ll bust your nose.”
Joey stared up at him, his eyes wide as he watched the fist. His arms were pinned to his sides by Jason’s legs, and he realized that if he tried to move, Jason’s fist would crash down into his face.
“I give,” he said. Jason hesitated, then climbed off Joey. He waited while Joey got to his feet, then took a step toward the other boy.
Joey hesitated, tears streaming down his face. “I’m gonna tell,” he yelled. “I’m gonna tell my mother, and you’re gonna be in trouble.” Then he turned and began running back down the street toward his house.
Jason watched him go, then faced the other children who were watching him uneasily. Jason sensed that they, too, had heard things about him.
“Whatcha gonna do?” someone asked.
Jason glared at his questioner. “Well, I’m not gonna run home to Momma like some people,” he said. Turning his back on the others, he started down the street. No one tried to follow him.
He walked another block, then stopped, wondering if maybe he should go home after all. His clothes were torn and covered with grass stains, and his face was bloody.
But what if his parents were still fighting? Wouldn’t they get mad at him too?
He stood indecisively for a minute, then made up his mind.
He wouldn’t go home, but he wouldn’t go to school either.
Instead, he’d play hookey for the day, and go off by himself.
At least if he was by himself, no one would be mad at him.…
“You’ve decided I’m crazy, haven’t you?” Sally’s voice reflected the fear that lay like a caged beast within her. As she spoke, she could feel the beast begin to stir, begin to wake into pania “The two of you have decided I’m crazy.”
“Sally, it’s not that at all. We just think you’ve had too many problems bearing down on you, and you need someone to talk to. It won’t even
be
Wiseman. He said himself that he’s not qualified, but he thinks he can find someone who can help you.”
“Someone who can help me to do what? Help me find out what happened to Julie, or help me try to pretend that nothing happened to her at all?”
Before Steve could answer, there was a loud knock at the back door. Steve threw down his napkin, disappeared into the kitchen, and was back a moment later, followed by a furious Kay Connors clutching her son by her hand. When Sally saw Joey’s bruised and swollen face, and the bloodstains on Ins clothes, she gasped.
“Joey, what hap—”
“Your son happened,” Kay interrupted, her eyes blazing with indignation. “Look at him. One eye’s black, his cheek is cut, he’s bruised all over his body, and his knee is bleeding.”
Sally dabbed at her own eyes with her napkin. What was Kay talking about? What did Jason have to do with all this? “But Jason’s here,” she said. “He hasn’t left for school yet.” She glanced around, sure that Jason would be standing in the door to the living room.
He wasn’t.
Her gaze shifted uncertainly to Steve. “Isn’t he here? He must be. He didn’t say good-bye.”
“He must be upstairs.” Steve crossed the living room and went into the foyer to stand at the foot of the stairs. “Jason? Jason!”
Upstairs, the house was silent.
“If he’s there, he’s in the bathroom cleaning himself up,” Kay Connors said angrily.
“Kay, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sally protested.
“I’m talking about Jason. He picked a fight with Joey, and then proceeded to do this to him.”
Steve came back into the dining room, looking puzzled. “He’s not here. I checked his room, and his books are gone. He must have left without saying goodbye.”
Sally sat quietly for a moment, digesting what her husband had said. It made a sad kind of sense, really. Why would Jason say good-bye that morning? Neither of them had really spoken to him. They’d been too involved in their own struggle.
And what must he have thought of that? She tried to remember him sitting at the table, listening to them. Had she even seen him?
Not really.
Vaguely, she remembered him leaving the table, but that was all. What must he have been feeling, watching her cry, watching his father’s angry face, hearing the bitter words that had flowed so freely. Of course he hadn’t said good-bye. He must have wanted nothing more than to be out of the house, away from the anger. Sally tried to speak, but her throat constricted, and as her tears began to flow once more she clutched the damp napkin to her mouth and hurried from the room. Steve watched her go, then turned to face Kay Connors.
“What happened, Kay?”
Kay’s fury had been dissipated by Sally’s tears. She drew Joey closer. “I don’t know, really,” she admitted.
“Joey left for school, and about ten minutes later he was back. He said Jason picked a fight with him.”
“But you’re a lot bigger than Jason,” Steve said to Joey.
“He hit me first,” Joey replied sullenly.
“But why did he hit you?”
Joey’s gaze shifted guiltily away from Steve. “I don’t know.”
“Come on, Joey. There must have been a reason. I can’t believe Jason just walked up to you and hit you.”
“Well, that’s what he did. I was just walking along, and Jason came up behind me and yelled at me. When I turned around, he slugged me.”
“Had they had a fight before?” Steve asked Kay.
“I don’t see how they could have,” Kay said. “I—well, I’ve tried to keep Joey away from Jason. First there was that Corliss boy—”
“Randy?”
“Randy, yes. He’s always been troublesome. And then the last week or so—well, I know Sally’s been … upset, and it just seemed to me that Joey should stay away.”
“I see,” Steve said softly. He could see in Kay’s eyes the discomfort she was feeling, and wondered just what she’d said to Joey, and what Joey might have said to Jason. But the long hesitation before she’d said the word
upset
told him all he needed to know. “I’ll talk to Jason about this, Kay, and try to find out what happened. And if what Joey says turns out to be true, I can assure you that Jason will be punished.”
“He’s already been punished,” Joey said. “I bet he’s got two black eyes, and I bit him.”
Kay Connors stared down at her son. “You
what?”
“I bit him,” Joey said. “He was on top of me, hitting me in the face, so I grabbed his arm and bit it. It was bleeding.”
“Oh, God, Joey,” Kay groaned. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
“You didn’t ask.”
Feeling suddenly foolish, Kay wondered what to say. But when she looked at Steve Montgomery, there was a
trace of a smile playing around his lips. “Maybe I overreacted a bit,” she said.