County Line Road (7 page)

They drove until it got dark. Rich pulled off the highway and into a gas station. Inside the convenience store, he bought a pack of cigarettes, one beer, and a Coke while Jimmy went to the bathroom.

In the bathroom, he saw the bruise on his face and the magnitude of what had just happened swooped down on him like a hawk on a mouse. He felt his knees go weak and he faltered. He held on to the edge of the sink to recover.

“This can’t be real,” he said. He rinsed his hands and face, gently touching his cheekbone to check it, and he went back outside.

Rich was sitting on a bench by his motorcycle.

“Are we going to South Carolina now?” Jimmy asked him. “I’d like to see Double A and Allison before I leave.”

“We’re not leaving tonight,” Rich said. “But I have been thinking about going away. It’s time to move out.”

“Where?”

“Don’t know.”

“Maybe I’ll just leave too,” Jimmy said. He sat down, feeling tired. They watched the traffic go by.

“You have to go back,” Rich said.

“Why? So he can hit me again? Didn’t you hear him? He said I can’t go. ‘This is your Captain speaking: You’re fucked.’ What an asshole.”

“You called his woman a whore,” Rich said. “What did you expect? I would have really kicked your ass if you’d said it to me.” Rich laughed. “I can’t believe you said that. I didn’t think you had it in you, little brother. I’m damn proud, but you’re going back to face up.”

“I don’t know,” Jimmy said.

“I do,” Rich said. He turned to Jimmy and looked him in the face. “You’re going to get that scholarship and go on to win more races than you ever thought of. You can do it; you have it, more than me.”

“You were a great baseball player,” Jimmy said. “You could have been a great first base player, still could, a pro even.”

“No, I can’t!” Rich yelled. “I didn’t have what it takes. I was too afraid.”

“Of what?” Jimmy demanded. He looked at Rich’s face. His usual confidence was gone.

Rich shook his head. “Forget it. All I know is – don’t quit. Don’t let some asshole push you around and make you feel like shit. No matter who it is. Fight back. You deserve the chance to go and to try.”

Jimmy had never heard his brother say anything like that before. He wondered what he was afraid of. He’d never seen Rich back down from anything.

“Did you take steroids?” Jimmy asked him.

“What the hell,” Rich said. “Yeah, and a lot of other things.”

“I thought you were the best,” Jimmy said.

“Sorry to shake up your world,” Rich said. “At first it was just the creatine and all that supplement crap; then a guy offered me the good shit, the real shit. Then he blackmailed me with it. He wanted me to throw a game. I said no. That’s when the real problems started.” He rubbed his shoulder. “Finally he said he wouldn’t turn me in if I didn’t turn him in. Dad helped me, but he’s still pissed that I never told him the guy’s name. I don’t think Dad’s ever actually spoken to me since. Not like you. That’s enough of the past. Let’s get out of here.”

“If yelling at me is his idea of conversation, I’d rather pass,” Jimmy said.

Jimmy looked up at Rich who stood with his back to the glass window of the convenience store. The bright lights cast a shadow on Rich’s face, making it look dark and brooding. Jimmy rubbed his forehead and squinted in the harsh light.

“I’m getting a headache. You got anything for it?”

“Buy some Tylenol,” Rich said. “Don’t ever let me catch you taking anything. You have a future. Got it?”

“Okay,” Jimmy said.

Inside the store, Jimmy bought some Tylenol and took the pills.

Outside, Rich handed him the motorcycle helmet.

“I’ll take you home,” Rich said.

“No,” Jimmy said. “Allison’s. I’ll show you where it is.”

Rich drove slowly through the sleeping suburb. Jimmy pointed to a house, and Rich stopped one house away.

It was dark and quiet on the street, normal, expect for how Jimmy felt inside. He climbed off the back of the bike.

“Don’t stay all night,” Rich said. “Go back home before light.”

Jimmy handed his brother the helmet without a word and walked away.

“Hey, Jimmy.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Jimmy said. “And, hey, about what you said, I won’t tell anyone.” He went up on the grass in between Allison’s house and the neighbor’s.

A bedroom light was still on. He peeked in the edges of the blinds to see if it was really her room. He felt like a Peeping Tom, but he figured he better make sure he had the right room before he knocked. He could hear music playing low, a song he knew Allison’s liked, so he knocked.

Allison’s face appeared in the window, wide-eyed until she recognized Jimmy. Then she peered more closely and gasped. Jimmy could tell she was looking at the bruise on his cheek. She pointed. He saw her mouth the words, “Oh my God! What happened?”

She waved him to the back of the house, pointing and mouthing the word “pool”. She met him by the fence and let him in through the patio.

Once in her room, she said it again, “Oh, my God. What happened?”

“Don’t touch it,” Jimmy said and winced as she tried to put her hand on his face.

“Turn into the light here,” she said and examined him.

“What are you, a doctor?” he said.

“I’m trying to see,” she said. “What happened?” She sat down on her bed. The bedspread was white with yellow flowers and very fluffy.

“Sit down.”

He sank onto the bed and laid back. Jimmy was so tired that the bed felt like the most comfortable thing on Earth. He saw her closet was open. On her desk was a laptop computer and a small statue of a wizard holding a crystal ball. Jimmy wasn’t sure he wanted to look into the future now.

“My father hit me,” he said. He told her about the fight, about seeing Linda with that guy in the parking lot, about leaving with Rich. He didn’t say anything about what he and Rich talked about.

“What? Cancelled your trip to track camp?” Allison said. “But that’s the most important thing. That will get you into that college for sure. Did you say the store called and they have the baseball? Isn’t that what started all this? Now it’s done, right?”

“It’s worse now,” Jimmy said.

“Where did they get the ball?” Allison asked. “I mean, did they find it or did someone bring it in?”

“I don’t know,” Jimmy said, getting impatient. The headache was still with him only a little less than before. “What difference does it make?”

“Because,” she said, sitting up and straddling over him. “It wasn’t you who brought it in, so they must have who it was on their video tapes. Surveillance cameras, you know?”

“Holy shit!” he said and bolted upright. He almost knocked her over. “That’s right! They can check the tapes.”

“Whoa,” she said. She tried to hold onto him, but he was up, pacing back and forth.

“That will prove it for sure,” he said. “He’ll see her bringing it in. I bet she didn’t think of that. I can’t wait to see her face. Now maybe dad will throw her out, and we can have our life back.”

“All that just from one baseball?”

“You don’t understand,” he said. “She didn’t just steal the baseball; she stole my father from my mother – when my mom was too sick to do anything about it. That’s what kind of person she is.”

“How did she convince him to divorce your mom unless he wanted to?” Allison turned to the radio as a song started.

“I don’t know about the divorce,” he said, getting aggravated and loud. “You’re missing the point. She’s a bitch, and she’s going down in flames.”

“Shh!” Allison said. “My parents will hear.”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t want your dad to know,” Jimmy said. “He wouldn’t want to see me, now that I’m not the scholarship winner.”

“What?” she said.

“I saw him eye me when you said I was going to Clemson. Now I’m not such a good catch for his daughter.”

“Hey,” she said, standing up. “You’re mad at your father, remember. Don’t take it out on us.”

“What?”

“Your brother is right. You should go home and face up,” she said.

“Me?” Jimmy said. “What about you? You said you don’t run anymore.”

“I’m not talking about this,” she said.

“Oh, yeah?” Jimmy got up and reached in her closet. He pulled out a trophy. “Your mother said you got second place at state, and now, what, you just don’t want to run anymore?”

“You don’t know anything about me!”

“Then why don’t you tell me?”

She stood in the middle of her room, looking around as if for something to hold onto.

“My sister – ” she said and stopped. “Nevermind. You know, I don’t think I want to go to the concert with someone like you after all.” She turned off the music. “Since you’re grounded and all. You can’t even go.” She folded her arms across her chest.

“Who’s changing the subject now,” Jimmy said. “My dad can’t make me stay. I’ll split with Rich. Yeah, we got a place in mind. My father can’t control me.”

He headed for the door.

“Control? You don’t control anything – you just run away. Like from the fight at your house, like this. You picked the perfect sport, Mr. Track Star! Go ahead, run!”

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“You can’t tell me what to say,” she said. “You don’t control me, like your stepmother controls you.”

His jaw dropped. He’d trusted Allison with his feelings, telling her more about himself than he’d ever told anyone. To cover up the vulnerability, he found a feeling of injustice and grabbed onto it like a life raft.

“Well, then maybe I should just get the hell out of here,” he said.

“Yes. Get the hell out of here,” she said. “Run away again!”

Jimmy slammed the door behind him. He stood in the dark hallway and realized what he’d done. He ran for the back door just as the kitchen light came on.

Jimmy ran up Double A’s street and slowed down in front of his house. The house was dark. His car wasn’t out front, but Jimmy walked around back anyway in the thick crabgrass still wet from the rain. No lights, no sound. He stood in the darkness. There was nothing in the darkness, nothing moving, only the blood rushing through his head, flooding his veins, loud in his ears. He reached a hand out for the wall. It was wet to the touch. He pulled his hand back.

What the hell is going on? He wondered. One minute life is great, the next it’s misery. How could his father cancel his trip? He knows how much it means. Why did Rich take steroids and blow his chance, let somebody push him around? Why was Allison pushing him away? And where is Double A when I need to talk to him?

Jimmy’s head began to hurt as if someone were sand papering his skull from the inside out. He sank down in the grass, teetering on the balls of his feet, holding his head. He began to feel panicky, a feeling he’d never had, or never let himself have, not since he was a kid, hiding in his room while his parents fought.

He looked around wildly. A bizarre sensation came over him as if he were very close to the edge of a cliff and a force was sucking him over the edge. The only words that came to him were: dark, cold, alone. He had to get away, to escape this. He looked for a light, but the houses were all dark. He needed to be warm, but the grass was cold. He needed to see someone, but there was no one.

The panic within him unleashed itself, and he sprang up and ran. He ran hard, sprinting like he never had in any race he’d ever run. He didn’t understand why he felt this way. He used to keep his walls up, but now, with Allison he’d let his guard down. This is what he was left with – fear.

On the street, his body aimed for the streetlights. He ran from one orange pool of light to the next, the panic rising every time he was in the dark for a few seconds, then it leveled off again when he reached a pool of light.

He was soon at his street and sneaked in the door of his own darkened house. He quickly made it to his room, his eyes wide, his skin clammy. He needed heat. He knew it was late but got into the shower anyway, hoping his father wouldn’t come knock on the door and ask him what the hell he was doing. He couldn’t speak. Not now. Words were beyond him. He was barely holding onto his sanity; he felt as if it hung in tatters like scraps of meat torn from bone by lions. He held his head under the hot stream of water coming out of the shower and shivered for a long time.

In the morning, he went to the track and tried to do some laps by himself. The time on the stopwatch wasn’t even worth looking at, there wasn’t any music playing in his head, and his legs hurt. Soon he just turned and walked off the track.

Coming through the gate toward Jimmy was Dion, smiling and carrying a big gym bag. Jimmy just sighed, knowing he’d have to get into in with Dion even though he didn’t feel like it.

Dion dropped his bag down on the bench. It landed with a thud and clinking sound.

“Got enough shit in there?” Jimmy said to him. He figured he’d be on the offensive instead of letting Dion start something.

“I got everything I need in here,” Dion said. He unzipped the bag and held up a bottle. “Newest stuff on the market. Too bad you can’t afford it.”

Jimmy took the bottle from his hand and looked at the label.

“Creatine?” Jimmy said. He peeked in Dion’s open bag. There were a lot a bottles and packages of sports supplements inside. “They can talk you into buying anything, but all this stuff won’t make you fast, just a fake.”

“I ain’t a fake,” Dion said. “Besides, everybody’s taking something.”

“Maybe so,” Jimmy said. He gave him the bottle back and left.

He went home to try to sleep for a few hours but couldn’t. He called in sick to work. It grew dark in his room as the sun set, but he didn’t get up to turn on the light. He wondered what Allison was doing. He rolled over in his bed, as if to face her, as if she were lying next to him. He felt all the cells in his body lean toward where he imagined her, like a plant that turns toward the sun, seeking warmth. His skin, the palms of his hands, muscles and the blood in his veins mourned her absence.

It was an absence he never felt before, an empty space that wasn’t there before. But now his life was changed. He now knew what couples meant when they referred to “us”; Jimmy was now part of an “us” – him and Allison – and he took her with him everywhere he went. When she wasn’t there, it left a hole.

A thunderstorm blew in like a hurricane. He listened to the rain hitting the house in windy gusts.

He struggled to remember something, but couldn’t place his finger on it, as if someone was going to tell him something, deliver a message, but never got around to it.

Face down, he pressed his entire body against the mattress with his eyes closed. He felt certain that she was doing exactly what he was doing. He imagined, hoped. Was I supposed to tell her something? He wondered. He couldn’t think straight. He felt like he’d lost something that was within reach, so close like a train approaching a highway crossing, about to blast its horn, but no sound came.

Allison wasn’t at home, lying in bed. She was behind the wheel of her Mustang, out on the highway in the night, racing down the interstate at top speed. The city passed in a rush, and lighted buildings smeared into a blur. She threw her pewter wizard out the window to banish it and everything she’d ever hoped for. No magic spell or magic wand could make her life better now. The radio blasted, and she screamed at the top of her lungs until her throat burned and tears streamed down her face.

The next day, as Allison lay in her bed with her laptop, her mother knocked on the door.

“Are you feeling better, honey?” She opened the door.

“Not really,” Allison said.

“I just saw Cassie and her family pull up in their driveway,” her mother said. “They must have just gotten back from their trip. Would you like to see her?”

“Not right now,” Allison said.

“If you’re not feeling well, I can take you to the doctor’s. I’ll look up one in the new health insurance plan,” her mother said.

“I don’t need a doctor. I’m just bummed out.”

“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry of flipped out about the mail that day,” her mother said. “You know, that letter for Michele. I called them and they said they’d take care of it. Anytime you want to talk, we can. We all miss her.”

“It’s like one of my legs is missing,” Allison said. She hadn’t planned to say that to her mother, to admit so much. She tried to keep it all inside, to control it, but it wasn’t working.

Allison started to cry.

“I know,” her mother said and sat down with her. “We’re all limping along. You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to volunteer with the Special Olympics chapter here.”

“What?”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I’m ready. I feel really good about it,” her mother said. “Maybe you want to come? Just check it out?”

“No,” Allison said and sat up to blow her nose. “I can’t do that. Not now.”

“Okay. If you want to later, let me know. I’m going to a meeting next week. If you change your mind…”

Allison shook her head, no.

“Want something to eat?” Her mother pet her head and wrapped Allison’s long hair into a pony tail. “I want chicken wings and fries.”

“That’s so loaded with fat,” Allison said.

“Oh, I know, but who the hell cares? I’m eating it, just this once. Come on. Well go to that place on Stirling Road.”

“You drive,” Allison said. “But I have to get changed first.”

Her mother left, and Allison pulled out a pair of shorts from her dresser drawer of her new bedroom set.

Out the window, she saw Cassie and her little sister, Lindsay, carrying their backpacks from the minivan into their house. Their father heaved their rolled up tent onto his shoulders and walked up the driveway with it to their garage.

Allison closed the blinds and got dressed to go.

As she got in her mother’s Jaguar, Allison heard Cassie call her. Allison paused before closing the car door.

“Hey!” Cassie said and waved. “I have great pictures to show you!”

“I’ll come over when I get back!” Allison said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

Lindsay kicked her soccer ball from foot to foot, bouncing the ball up and down until she missed and the ball rolled toward Allison.

“Ally! Kick it here!” Lindsay said.

The sound of her little girl voice caught Allison by surprise. Allison kicked the ball back, waved bye and quickly got in the car.

“For a second there, she sounded just like Michele,” Allison said. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t want to lose it now.”

“I understand how you feel,” her mother said. “I negotiate with myself all the time. You know what they say: ‘Fake it til you make it’.”

“Yeah,” Allison said, looking at Cassie and Lindsay playing on the lawn. “I’m a big faker. Even Jimmy knows it now.”

“No, you’re not,” her mother said. “You’ll work it out with him. If not, he’s not worth it. And you are.”