Into the Darkness (9 page)

“It’s not July Fourth this weekend. That’s next weekend, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, visibly annoyed. “This is the weekend my parents are going to Las Vegas. They’re leaving tomorrow, and they’re taking my brother Julius, so I’m declaring it July Fourth. The maid’s off Saturday, so it’s perfect. If you don’t want to come, don’t come.”

“They’re letting you have the party?”

She looked at Ellie and then turned back to me. “Hello. Figure it out, Prudence Perfect. If you do make the royal decision to come, wear something red, white, or blue or all three. Danny Silver is bringing the fireworks. Everyone’s arriving about seven-thirty. I’ll have lots of food—catered, of course.” She glanced at Ellie again. “By the way, Shayne will be there. He didn’t hesitate when I invited him. The invitation was barely out of my mouth.”

“Are you coming or not?” Ellie demanded when I didn’t burst out with an enthusiastic yes.

“I’ll try.”

“Try?” Charlotte said. “We know how difficult it is for you to grant an audience to the rest of us mere mortals.”

I was thinking so hard about it that I missed her sarcasm.

“What?” Ellie asked, seeing the thoughtful expression on my face.

“Something came to mind. I have a new neighbor. He’s going to be in our class this year if his family stays
in Echo Lake. I should bring him along so he can meet the mere mortals.”

“A new neighbor? He? Is he good-looking?” Charlotte asked quickly.

“Very.”

“What do you mean, ‘if his family stays’?” Ellie asked.

“They’ve rented for the summer and are not sure yet about spending the rest of the year or more.”

“I wish my parents would have given me that choice,” Ellie said.

“Yeah, like any other place would have you,” Charlotte told her. She turned to me. “Well, if you bring him to the party and he sees just how much fun we have here, he’ll want to stay for sure. Are you bringing him?”

“I’ll see. He’s a little shy,” I said.

“A little shy? You know that much about him already? How come you didn’t mention him to me before?” Ellie asked, sounding indignant.

“We just met yesterday. I don’t know much about him, but I had that impression.”

“Maybe you intimidated him,” Ellie said. “You can do that very easily.”

“No,” I said, refusing to bite. “I think he’s just not that outgoing.”

“We’ll break him out of his shyness, won’t we?” Charlotte asked Ellie.

Ellie looked at me suspiciously. “If someone else hasn’t done so already or doesn’t have plans to do it herself. You met him yesterday? How long have he and his family been here?”

“Only a few days.”

“And you never said anything?”

“I told you. I just met him yesterday.”

“What did you do?” she asked.

“Do? Nothing. We went for a walk.”

“A walk? Where?”

“Just on the street,” I said. I wasn’t going to tell them about the lake.

They looked at each other as if I had lost my mind.

“Well,” I said, “I’ve got to get home. We’re going to dinner tonight.”

“We?” Ellie asked.

“My parents and I. No, not my new neighbor—not yet, at least,” I added, almost under my breath. I guess it was obvious I wished it were so.

They looked at each other again, and then they both laughed.

“You mean there really is someone you actually deem to be worthy of a date with you?” Charlotte asked me.

Instead of reacting to her sarcasm, I pretended to give it deep thought. “I’m not quite sure yet. I forgot to look to see if he has dirty fingernails. See ya,” I tossed at them, and hurried away. When I looked back, they were still parked, laughing.

Brayden wasn’t outside his house, and as before, nothing looked touched or changed. The windows were dark, and when I paused, I heard no sounds, no music, no television, nothing going on inside. I had no time to linger. I did look over again, pausing after I had driven out to go get my parents. It was deeper twilight now, and still no lights were on inside his house.

After I brought my parents home, I lingered on the
front porch, watching for some sign of Brayden while they showered and dressed. The look of abandonment actually began to annoy me. How could anyone move into a new home and not want to do anything—change curtains, clean, straighten up the yard, get some flowers planted, whitewash the porch railings, anything? They seemed more like squatters than tenants. And really, what did Brayden do all day? If he had to hang around the house, why couldn’t he do any of those things? All of this mystery had become irritating. I told myself that I should never have spoken to him and certainly shouldn’t have accepted his invitation to go for a walk. He really was too strange.

I regretted mentioning him to Ellie and Charlotte.
Forget him,
I told myself, and I was very happy when my parents came out and we got into the car to go to the diner.

“You sure you saw one of our neighbors?” Dad asked. “I mean, someone really moved in there? It’s so dark. It looks just as deserted as ever.”

“Maybe they went out to dinner, Gregory,” Mom said.

“And didn’t leave a light on for when they returned?”

“Amber told you Mr. Matthews was an economist. He’s saving on their electric bill.”

She looked to me, but I had nothing to add, no explanation.

Dad shrugged and started the engine. “I haven’t heard anyone mention anything about them—except you, of course, Amber,” he said as he backed out of the driveway.

“They just moved in,” Mom said.

“And Risa Donald hasn’t said a word to anyone? That’s a first,” he replied.

He drove off, and I didn’t even look back.

But when we rounded the corner of our cul-de-sac and headed for Main Street and the way out of the village, I was almost sure I caught a glimpse of Brayden looking out from behind the large maple tree on Mrs. Carden’s front lawn.

“What is it?” Mom asked when I spun around so abruptly.

If he had been there, he was gone.

“Nothing,” I said. “I thought I saw something.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” I repeated.

“Was it that interesting new boy?” Dad asked. “I suppose we could have asked him to join us for dinner as a way of welcoming him to the neighborhood. That way, we could beat Risa to the gossip headlines.”

“No, it wasn’t him,” I said. I was angry at myself for reacting so dramatically to a possible sighting of him, as if he were a movie star or a singing star.

Mom picked up on the tone in my voice and turned back to Dad. “She told you she wanted to get to know him better first, Gregory.”

“Okay, okay,” he said. “I’ll never mention him again until one of you does.”

Under those conditions, I wondered if he ever would.

We all enjoyed our dinner at the old diner. There were many local people there. I thought my father could easily run for mayor. Everyone loved him, wanted to speak with him and say hello to Mom. After all, my family was now one of the oldest families in Echo Lake. I bathed in the glow of my parents’ popularity even though I was not very talkative.

I knew my parents sensed that something was bothering me. Sometimes I thought my mother was so tuned in to my moods and feelings that she felt and experienced them as if they were her own. Of course, if anyone should know you inside and out, it should be your mother. At one time, at least for nine months, you were literally a part of her, and what flowed through her veins flowed through yours, and vice versa. There were all sorts of theories about how a mother should behave while she was pregnant and how that behavior would affect and form her child, not only physically but also mentally and emotionally.

Mom once enrolled in a meditation class specifically designed for pregnant women. It was supposed
to create an inner harmony between a mother and her child even before the child was born. Dad was a little skeptical until he saw Mom in action after I was born. He saw how quickly she could anticipate my discomfort and unhappiness and how easily she knew how to get me comfortable, satisfied, and happy. I wouldn’t say she didn’t still have that connection with me, but I did feel that as I grew older, we gradually grew a little further apart. However, it felt natural. I realized that I should be more of my own person, a totally independent being who by definition had to be somewhat unpredictable.

Dad just thought that unpredictability and spontaneous bursts of emotions were the major characteristics of all females. He said that the man who didn’t know how to tiptoe around his wife was a husband with many bumps and scars. Mom kidded him about his own peculiar sensitivities, and they would then begin one of their amusing sparring sessions, never ending in anything but laughter.

“You should take more time off,” Mom suggested at dinner. “Do more with your school friends, Amber. You’ve got your summer-school assignments and work at the store,” she said, brushing back strands of hair from my forehead. She did that so often when we talked that I thought she would still do it when I was her age and I was doing it to my own daughter or son.

“I’m all right,” I said.

“No, you need more time just to relax and have fun,” she insisted. “Besides, your father and I have been thinking about giving Millie Williams a little more part-time
work. She’s been great as a stand-in from time to time and very trustworthy. She could use the extra money since her husband, Fred, died last year.”

I shrugged. There wasn’t much I was dying to do with any of my school friends, but I also knew that wasn’t exactly a normal attitude, especially in today’s world, where kids my age were actively looking for ways to avoid work and responsibilities. Nothing was more important than just hanging out, being out from under parents and away from teachers and anything else classified as adult.

“Whatever,” I said. My indifference didn’t please either of them.

“Well, we’ll put Millie on from Friday to Monday. You should at least have your weekends free,” Mom insisted.

Her suggestion made me think more about Bray-den again, despite my trying to convince myself that he was too unusual for me to have a satisfactory relationship with him. When I thought about it now, especially the way Ellie and Charlotte had reacted to my mentioning him, the prospect of showing him around our community, introducing him to others in our school, and spending some serious time with him was attractive. Maybe I should give it another chance, I thought. I was even thinking of possibly going over to his house to speak to him about Charlotte’s party, but when we returned home, I noticed that nothing was different at Brayden’s house from the evening before. There were no lights on downstairs. Even the attic was dark.

Dad commented about it as we drove by. It wasn’t really very late.

“You’re absolutely sure someone moved in there?” he asked me.

“Yes, Dad. I’m sure.”

“They go to sleep very early, I imagine,” Mom said.

“Yeah, maybe, or they could be vampires,” Dad kidded. “Did you check this boy’s teeth, Amber Light?”

“Very funny.”

“It’s not so unusual for people to go to bed early, Gregory. Amber did tell us that the boy’s mother was on medication. That often makes people tired,” Mom said.

“What, is he taking it, too?” Dad asked, still joking. “I think he needs to get out and about. Who better to help him do that than our Amber Light, huh?”

“I thought you weren’t going to mention him again,” Mom said, half chastising.

I thought about Charlotte Watts’s premature July Fourth party. I hadn’t seen most of my classmates since school had broken for the summer. I wasn’t dying to see any of them, but I wasn’t at the point where I couldn’t stand being around them, either. Usually, Ellie was a pretty good friend. She was a very good student and enjoyed most of what I enjoyed.

I mentioned the party when we entered the house.

“Does Stan Watts know about it?” Dad asked.

“How could he not if she’s asking so many friends?” Mom replied for me. She thought a moment and then added, “You might think about asking the new boy to go with you, I suppose. It would be an easy way for him to break the ice and get to know people his age.”

I shrugged again, even though I was giving it some serious consideration. This time, my reaction bothered her more.

“Don’t be so indifferent to everything, Amber. It worries me,” she said with a rare show of some irritability. She went upstairs to change into something more comfortable, and Dad went to watch a documentary he had TiVo’d from the History Channel. I thought about going up to start reading again but decided instead to go out and sit on the porch. It was a warm enough night, and if I was going to be honest, I would have to confess that I was hoping to see Brayden despite all of my rationalizations for avoiding him and not caring about him.

I didn’t think I wouldn’t see him anyway. It was just too quiet around his house. Could it be that he really did go to sleep when his mother did? Maybe she exhausted him. I could only imagine what it might be like caring for someone in so deep a depression that she wanted to shut herself away from people and just work on her paintings.

It was very quiet on our street. Even on beautiful nights like this one, people seemed to roll up their sidewalks and lock their doors to gather around the TV the way I imagined cave people gathered around fires. Anything that shut out the night and the darkness was welcomed. It was as if people no longer wanted just to sit and think. It was more than simply boredom, too. People were afraid of what thoughts they could have.