Pulse

47

Leighton, Wisconsin, 1986

T he lost dog posters had brought no response. They faded in the sun and wrinkled in the rain and mists of mornings. Rory no longer felt a twinge of guilt when he walked or drove past them.

In fact, the posters lifted his spirits now in an unexpected way. He knew logically that he’d done the right thing with Duffy the dog, so there were no longer twinges of regret. Now the posters reminded him of Sherri Klinger. Sometimes when he drove past them, he smiled.

Rory suspected his mother knew he was sneaking off with the car when she was away, and sometimes even when she was in the house asleep. She was becoming worn down, and simply didn’t want to confront him again.

He was driving better all the time, obeying traffic laws so he wouldn’t have a run-in with the law, parallel parking with greater skill so he no longer bumped up on the curb or dented cars in front of or behind him.

She must know he was driving more frequently and becoming better at it. Or maybe his mother was looking the other way when he “borrowed” the car because she approved of him seeing Sherri Klinger.

Yes, that was possible.

Sherri was, in everybody’s estimation, a Nice Girl. Meaning she was possibly still a virgin. She would be good for Rory.

Well, he went along with that.

On the pretense of searching for Duffy, Rory would pick up Sherri at a prearranged spot-sometimes Creamery Curb Service, near the back, where people drinking soda or milkshakes in their cars were facing the other way and she wouldn’t be noticed getting in the car-and they would simply drive around, Sherri keeping an eye out for the lost Duffy, Rory pretending.

They talked as they rode, getting to know each other better. After a while, Duffy was seldom mentioned, though they carried on the charade of searching for him.

“Gas is expensive,” Rory told Sherri one day, as they were tooling along the county road in his mother’s Impala.

Sherri laughed. “What is that, a news announcement?”

Rory smiled and took a curve a little too fast. It was a nice sensation. “What I mean is, maybe we oughta park a while and search for Duffy on foot.”

“That doesn’t sound very efficient.”

“It’s getting harder and harder to keep the gas gauge off empty,” Rory said.

“So you’re saying we don’t have much choice.”

“My wallet’s saying it.”

“You don’t have a credit card?”

“I used one my mom gave me, but she confiscated it when it got up near a thousand dollars.”

“Jesus, Rory! She’s got some nerve. I mean, it’s your card.”

“It does have her name on it.”

“So?”

“Anyway, it’s a nice day for a walk.”

Rory found a place where they could pull off the road and the trees were spaced out so they could drive the Impala into the woods just far enough so that it was invisible from the road. The underbrush might have scratched the paint on the side of the car, but not so much that Rory’s mom would notice. And if she did notice, she’d probably think she’d done it herself.

Rory leaned over to work the door handle for Sherri just as she was leaning forward to grip it herself. Unexpectedly, they were close. This had to be more than coincidence. This was fate. They kissed. Then kissed harder, using their tongues.

The kisses became more than kisses. And then became something wonderful.

Afterward Rory folded his shirt so Sherri could sit on it and not get blood on the Impala’s seat.

“What are we going to do now?” Sherri asked.

“That,” Rory said. “Again.”

They both laughed.

“God, Rory!”

“Nobody has to know,” he said.

“In a way,” she said, “I want everybody to know.”

He stared at her, horrified.

“Don’t worry,” she said, and patted his knee.

“We’re acting like an old married couple,” Rory said.

She punched him hard in the side of the neck and then hugged him. They hugged each other, not wanting to let go. This was fine. This could be perfect. If no one would ever disturb them. Ever.

Finally they pulled apart.

“Ready to go back to the real world?” Rory asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

“I’ll put the window down so it won’t look funny, me driving without a shirt.”

“You are so devious.”

“I guess we both have to be devious now,” he said.

“Maybe everyone learns that sooner or later. It’s called growing up.”

As he maneuvered the Chevy back out onto the road, Sherri was thinking how her mom and dad would wring her neck if they ever found out about this. She had already been taking birth control pills she’d gotten from Hattie, the school nurse, without anyone knowing.

Rory noticed they weren’t far from where he’d killed and buried Duffy. Now here they were, him driving shirtless, and the untouchable Sherri Klinger sitting beside him with her wadded panties and his shirt under her bare rump so she wouldn’t get blood on his mom’s car.

Some wide and wonderful world.

Some future!

“Want to stop at Creamery Curb Service and get some milkshakes?” he asked.

“ Rory! ”