Ariel

Twenty-one

Erskine’s new tape recorder was larger than his old one, with a more powerful speaker. They sat listening to a cassette Ariel had made. She had played her flute while one of her tapes ran on the original recorder, and now she was hearing the result, a flute duet in which her two voices sang one against the other, blending yet remaining distinct.

At first she had trouble concentrating on the music. She couldn’t get her mind off Channing, and twice she went to the window and checked to see if his car was there. But then she managed to slip into the music and get lost in it.

They were sitting side by side on Erskine’s bed. Just as she was fully caught up in the music he slipped an arm around her and she felt his fingers take a tentative purchase inches from her breast. She could feel the urgent pressure of his hand through her sweater. She tensed the muscles in her legs, trying not to lose the flow of the music, trying to will his hand from her. The hand stayed where it was. She twisted her upper body away from him to dislodge the hand but it held on and began to crawl like an insect toward her breast.

“Stop it,” she said. The hand at least stopped moving. “I said stop it.”

“Aw, Ariel...”

She stood up, crossed to the recorder and pushed the stop button. “I don’t want to hear any more now.”

“It sounds good.”

“Maybe. I wish you would cut that out.”

“I wasn’t doing anything.”

“It’s hard to concentrate on the music when I’ve got hands all over me. I don’t like it.”

“Sorry.”

“How would you like it if someone was grabbing you all the time?”

“I’d love it.”

“You probably would.”

Want to grab me, Ariel? Grab me here.”

“You’re disgusting,” she told him. She went to the window again, eyes searching for Channing’s Buick. “That was creepy before,” she said.

“I touched your sweater, for God’s sake. What’s so creepy about that?”

“I mean the way he was following us. He never did that before.”

“Maybe he thinks we’re agents of a foreign power.”

“Be serious.”

“Want to put the music back on? I’ll sit on my hands if you want.”

She shook her head. “I don’t feel like listening to it. I don’t know if it’s any good.”

“It sounded good to me.”

She shrugged.

“You can’t even tell which part you recorded first,” he said. “It’s even tough to tell where one part begins and the other leaves off.”

“Not for me it isn’t.”

“Well, you’re the one who played it, Ariel. That makes a difference.”

“I suppose.”

“You’re in a terrific mood, Jardell. You’re a lot of fun to be with.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What’s the matter? That creep Channing?”

She shook her head.

“What?”

She thought of the argument the night before. Channing was Roberta’s lover and the knowledge confused her, but it was not something she was prepared to share with Erskine, not just yet.

Anyway, that wasn’t the only thing that was bothering her.

She sat down beside him. “We’re moving,” she said.

“What?”

“I heard them talking the other day. He went to a real estate agent and put the house on the market. Pretty soon I guess somebody’ll buy it and we’ll have to look for a new place to live.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish.”

“Where are you going to move?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe she’s got her eye on one of those mansions on the Battery.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You think she wants to move out of the neighborhood?”

“I said I don’t know.” She looked at her lap. Her little hands had hardened into fists and she studied them, then opened them and placed them palms-down on her knees. “He said they wouldn’t even look at houses until they found a buyer for ours. And he told her it would take time before they found a buyer who would pay a fair price. But the house is up for sale and anybody who wants it can just come along with a suitcase full of money and I’ll have to move.”

She looked at him and then had to look away because she could tell his face was a mask composed to keep back tears. If she went on looking at him she was likely to start crying herself and she didn’t want to cry.

“I’m not moving,” she said.

“Maybe they’ll stay in the neighborhood, Ariel. There’s plenty of places for sale. The Moeloth house right across the street’s for sale. Move in there and we could run a phone wire across the street between the two houses. I bet we could even work out a pulley system to send things back and forth.”

“I’m not moving anywhere,” she said. “Not across the street, not anywhere.”

“What are you going to do?”

She didn’t answer immediately, and when she did her voice was softer and carried less conviction. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ll think of something.”

“Get a lawyer to block the sale. Maybe your friend Channing can make himself useful.”

“Sure.”

“You know what you could do? You could live here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Here,” he said, gesturing. “This house. You could have my old room. My parents suck but I don’t suppose they’re any worse than David and Roberta.”

“They couldn’t be.”

“So?”

She looked at him. “You’re serious.”

“Sure.”

“They’d never let me do it, Erskine.”

“Sure they would. They never let up about how glad they are that I finally found a friend.”

“I know. I only spend time with you out of charity. I’m going to take a tax deduction for it.”

“Shut up. The thing is, if they’re so glad you’re my friend, why wouldn’t they let you move in?”

“Your parents might. Or I could just move in quietly and they wouldn’t notice.”

He giggled. “My father could live in the same house with you and not notice you were there. At dinner you could ask him to pass the salt and he’d pass it and still not notice. But my mother would catch on sooner or later. She’s sharp.”

“Mine would never go for it, David and Roberta.”

“Can’t you get unadopted? And move in here?”

“I don’t think so? she said. She went to the window again, just to see if the car happened to be around, and she couldn’t see it. “Anyway,” she said, “I don’t want to move out of my house. I like it there.”

“I know you do.”

“I want to live there forever. I knew that the minute I saw it and every day I like it more.”

“I know.”

She sat down heavily. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Want to listen to the music some more?”

“No. Maybe I’ll go home.”

“It’s still early.”

“I know. I’m in a weird mood.”

“Want to play a game? Cards or Boggle or something?”

“No.”

He touched her arm lightly. “Listen,” he said, “don’t panic or anything, okay?”

“I guess.”

“We’ll think of something. Maybe nobody’ll want to buy your house.”

“Are you kidding? A house like that? Somebody’ll buy it.”

“Yeah.” He brightened. “Maybe my father’ll buy it.”

“Your father?”

“He’ll buy it for us.”

“Sure,” she said. “Just tell him you need it, like the tape recorder. ‘Daddy, I sort of need Ariel’s house.’ Perfect.”

“Don’t laugh,” he said. “It might work.”

It was cold when she left Erskine’s house, with a wind blowing up that chilled her the minute she got outside. She had her bookbag hitched over her shoulder with the strap cutting into her. The bookbag was heavier than usual, weighted down with one of the tape recorders. She was carrying the other one.

A car’s engine turned over as she left the house. About the time she reached the sidewalk, the car was pulling away from the curb several houses down the street. She was only faintly aware of it until it braked to a stop alongside of her.

“Ariel!”

She turned. It was the Buick, and Jeffrey Channing was leaning across the front seat, rolling down the window on the passenger side. There was a small hole in the window, she noticed, with lines radiating out from it like the spokes of a wheel.

“Come here, Ariel.”

He knew her name. Well, of course he would know that. If he was Roberta’s lover or lawyer or whoever he was, he would surely know her name. He’d been following her, after all. Small surprise that he knew who he was following.

“You’re Ariel Jardell,” he said.

And you’re Mr. Jeffrey Channing, she thought, but decided against letting him know that she knew who he was. She merely nodded, and took a tentative step toward the car, moving from the sidewalk to the narrow strip of lawn between sidewalk and curb.

“Get in the car, Ariel,” he said. He let the door swing open and smiled at her, a tight smile that stopped short of his eyes. He was definitely a handsome man, she thought, and wondered that Erskine couldn’t see it.

Old enough to be her father...

“Get in, Ariel. I’ll drive you home.”

“I live close,” she said.

“I know where you live.”

“I don’t mind walking.”

“It’s cold out. I’ll give you a ride.”

“No, I sort of think I’d rather walk.”

“Get in the car,” Channing said. There was a taut quality in his voice that she recognized. Roberta’s voice had that tone to it at times when she was having trouble holding herself together. If he was really Roberta’s lover, maybe he learned it from her. Or maybe she got it from him.

“Get in the car, Ariel.”

Suppose she ran. Suppose she turned around and ran up the path to Erskine’s door. They would let her in and Mr. Wold would call the police.

And tell them what?

“Ariel—”

“Why were you following us?”

“Why were you and your friend at my house the other day?”

“Your house?”

“On Fontenoy Drive. I saw you there, Ariel.”

“Oh,” she said. “We went to visit a friend of mine from my old school. Her name is Linda Goodenow.”

“You were at my house.”

“I didn’t know it was your house. Honest. We were visiting my friend Linda. You can ask her if you don’t believe me.”

He looked at her for a moment. Then suddenly his face brightened with a smile. “I believe you,” he said, moving to pat the seat beside him. “Now hop in and I’ll give you a ride.”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t you know me, Ariel?”

“No.”

“You don’t recognize me?”

“I don’t know who you are.”

“I’m a friend of your mother’s.”

“My mother?”

“That’s right.”

Her heart pounded in her breast. “Do you mean it? Are you telling me the truth? You really know my mother?”

“Of course.”

“You know who she is? Is she alive? Does she live here in Charleston? You really know her?”

“Get in the car, Ariel.”

“Are you going to take me to see her?”

He smiled again for an answer.

Who was he? Her father? Roberta’s lover? Some combination of lawyer and detective? It didn’t matter. He knew her mother and was taking her to meet her. It was hard to believe but it was true. It was...

She got into the car.