The Gathering

TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, I turned the corner to see Mr. Bianchi’s car in the drive and knew there wouldn’t be any spaghetti tonight. Cooking any of Daniel’s mom’s Italian recipes was forbidden when his dad was home. I was about to text to ask if he still wanted me to come over, when I saw him, out back in the boxing ring he’d made with Corey years ago.

I crept up behind him. I was good at that. Some of my friends joked it was my Native blood. But it wasn’t, was it? Quiet as a cat.

The guys had made log benches for spectators, back when they were twelve and had visions of every girl in class lining those benches, swooning as they showed off in the ring. Never quite worked out that way—if there were spectators, they were more likely to be heckling than swooning—but the memory made me smile as I lowered myself quietly onto the bench behind Daniel.

He was shadowboxing, throwing punches and dodging an imaginary opponent. He was dressed in his usual gear—sweatpants and a tank top, both emblazoned with the school logo. I sat there and watched him, muscles flexing, sweat dripping from his dark blond hair, spraying with every swing, the silence punctuated by soft grunts when a blow seemed right and frustrated snorts when it didn’t.

As I watched him, I started to relax. This was familiar. The sight, the sounds, the feel of the bench under my fingers, even the faint smell of perspiration—it was familiar and it was real and it made the last few hours drift away, wisps of a nightmare disconnected from reality.

Finally, he sensed me there and danced in a circle, fists falling to his sides, feet still moving. His face lit up in a grin so big it chased away the last of my worries.

“I’m guessing spaghetti is off the menu?” I said, nodding toward the house.

“Yeah. We’re going out instead. My treat.”

I didn’t want to go out, but I would. Right now, I just wanted to be with him.

He looked over at me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar. Is it Rafe?”

When I hesitated, his hands clenched, jaw clenching with them.

“That son of a bitch,” he muttered.

“This is the part where you get to say ‘I told you so.’ ”

He swore and came over to sit beside me. “What happened?”

He meant with Rafe, but I didn’t want to tell him about Rafe. Instead, I thought of everything Rafe told me, everything I desperately needed to share. But I couldn’t see any way to start.

So I settled for, “It just didn’t work out. Big shock, I’m sure.”

“He wasn’t who you thought he was.”

True, yet not in the way Daniel meant. Rafe really was the person I’d seen the other night on the roof, a decent guy thrown into a hellish situation, forced to grow up fast, be strong, take responsibility.

Even now, as much as I despised being part of his solution, I understood why he’d had to find me, whatever it took. He wasn’t a bad person. He wasn’t even someone I could hate. That made it all the harder.

“You liked him,” Daniel said softly.

I forced a smile. “Fell for the wrong guy. Every girl has to do it once in her life. At least it was a quick lesson.” I got to my feet. “I could really use that dinner.”

He plucked the front of his sweat-soaked shirt. “I should have a shower and change. Guess I wasn’t thinking this through too well.”

He glanced toward the house, and I knew he wasn’t eager to go in. For the same reason he’d been out here boxing.

“You’ll dry,” I said. “And if the smell doesn’t fade, I’ll just sit at another table. Now come on before I starve.”

We started circling wide around the house, heading for the road. The Blender was only a ten-minute walk, so we didn’t have to bother with the truck. We made it about ten steps before the front door banged open and his dad yelled, “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

Daniel hunched his shoulders, as if against a blast of icy wind and mumbled, “Just keep walking.”

Footsteps pounded behind us. A hand grabbed Daniel’s shoulder and whipped him around. I could smell the booze.

Even before Daniel’s mom left, I’d never seen his father much. If he was around, he’d joke with us in that awkward way grown-ups sometimes do with kids—a little too loud, trying a little too hard—and there’d be the smell of beer on his breath.

Daniel would get embarrassed and herd us outside to play. We all knew something was wrong, but everyone’s parents had a drink now and then, and everyone’s parents did embarrassing things. So no one thought about it much until his mom took off, and we realized his dad wasn’t like every other parent, and maybe he never had been.

In the old days, his dad was always dressed up—shirt and tie, pressed pants, shiny shoes, dark hair slicked back, clean shaven, smelling faintly of cologne. Now, he still wore the shirt and slacks, but they were rumpled and stained, the shoes scuffed, his hair slick with oil, face covered in stubble. The only thing he smelled of was booze, so strong he seemed to have showered with it.

“I asked where you’re going. You tore the kitchen apart trying to cook dinner, and now you’re going to leave me with the mess?”

“No,” Daniel’s voice was low and calm, like he was talking to a child. “I said I’d clean it before bed. Maya and I are going out for dinner.”

His dad blinked at me, like he hadn’t seen me there. Then he scowled. No awkward joking for me these days. He didn’t have much patience for any of Daniel’s friends, but he seemed to like me the least, I suppose because I was the one Daniel stayed with when he needed to escape.

“Maya,” he said. “Can’t stay away, can you? Always coming around, teasing the boy.”

Daniel’s fingers wrapped around my elbow “We’re leaving, Dad. There’s a casserole in the—”

“You like teasing, don’t you, Maya?” His dad stepped closer as Daniel pulled me back. “Just like all the girls. Tease and flirt and keep the boys running after you, spending their money building a climbing wall for you. Maybe get a kiss on the cheek for it. Holding out to see if he makes something of himself, because that’s what counts for you girls. Is he going to be a hotshot lawyer? Olympic wrestler? Or just a lowly public defender? Or washed-up gym teacher?”

“That’s enough.” Daniel eased me behind him, while casting glances at the surrounding houses. He wanted to get out of there, but he didn’t want to make a scene. “I’ll be back—”

“Of course you’ll be back. Got nowhere else to go. You’re a parasite, boy. Just like your little not-yet girlfriend here. She’s waiting to see what you’ll make of yourself first, so she can live off you. That’s what all women want. Find a good man. A stupid man who’ll keep paying the bills even when she brings home a brat that doesn’t look anything like you. She’ll tell you he’s yours, and you’ll believe her until one day she finds someone else, and off she goes, leaving you to raise the bastard brat.”

“See if they’ll give you another job in the company,” Daniel said. “Leave me here and go.”

His father laughed. “You think they’ll allow that? I’m trapped here, looking after a freak who isn’t even my son—”

“And wishes to God that was true,” Daniel muttered.

His dad swung. Daniel caught his arm and yanked it behind his back, spinning his dad around.

“If you don’t think I’m yours, test it,” he said. “You’ve got access to everything you need. But you won’t, will you? You know I’m your son. You just like to torment me. You think that’s getting back at her somehow. Well, it isn’t.” He wrenched his father’s arm up until his eyes bulged. “I’m tired of it.”

Daniel thrust him out of the way. They faced off. It didn’t last long before his dad spun and walked away, spitting curses.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel murmured to me. “He’s just—”

“Drunk. And angry and bitter, and taking it out on you.” I looked up at him. “Come stay with us.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’d better not go home tonight.”

“I mean for good.”

“It’s only another couple of years, until I can escape to university like my brothers.”

“Can they help? I’m sure there’s something—”

“No. They’re gone and happy to be gone. When they come home, they see things are worse and just pat me on the back and tell me to hang in there.”

“Will you think about it? Staying with us full-time? Please? We’ve got the room, and my parents have always said you’re welcome for as long as you want.”

“I’ll … think about it.”

As we walked, I knew I wouldn’t be telling him what Rafe had said tonight. He had too much else on his mind. It could wait. Let me work it out for myself first.

We reached the Blender—a soda shop owned by the Morrises. It looks like something out of the fifties, and sells burgers and ice cream. There’s even a jukebox in the corner.

We walked in as Mayor Tillson and his wife were walking out, Nicole dawdling behind them, Sam even farther back.

“Maya. Daniel.” The mayor gave us an election-poster smile and thumped Daniel on the back. “Practicing for regionals? Good to see it.” He winked. “Even if you could already win it with one hand tied behind your back.”

Mrs. Tillson rolled her eyes, murmuring, “Leave the kids alone, Phil,” and smiling as she prodded him past us.

Nicole frowned at me as her parents left. “Daniel said you were eating at Rafe’s.”

“It didn’t work out.”

“Nicole,” her mom called. “Dad has a town meeting tonight.”

“What’s this with you and Rafe?” Sam said as she walked up.

“Nothing.” I turned to Nicole. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Tonight,” she said. “Call, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

She looked hurt by that, so I said I would call. She left, Sam trailing after her, casting glances back at us, like she was trying to figure out what was up.

When we sat, Daniel said, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I want to talk about our plans for tonight.”

While we ate, we quietly made a list of things to look for. As we left the Blender, Dr. Hajek drove by. She honked and waved. Then Chief Carling passed and did the same.

“Looks like the whole council is going to that meeting,” Daniel said. “Aren’t they usually the last Tuesday of the month?”

I nodded. My dad went if there was anything on the agenda about the park.

“So why call a special …?” He stopped walking.

“Mina Lee,” I said. “They’re meeting to discuss her death. Guess we have a stop to make.”