by Brent, Cora
I fake a yawn. “I should get some sleep.”
“We all should,” my dad agrees, catching my yawn.
Frankie heads back to bed first and I go next so my parents will feel free to return to their own room. I brush my teeth, change into a pair of sweats and curl up on my bed with my phone at my side. I don’t expect sleep to come for me and it doesn’t. I do wish desperately to hear from Ben but by the time the first grim light of a cold winter morning shows itself outside my window there is still no word from him.
The house is quiet. I pull on my shoes and my bathrobe and quietly exit through the front door. I’m not planning to go anywhere. I just want to take a look at the world on the first day of a new year. The snow that had fallen days ago has not melted but it no longer looks pretty and clean.
I stand at the end of my driveway and rise up on my tiptoes, looking north, looking in the direction of Black Mountain. There are plenty of places in Devil Valley where you can clearly see the outline of the rocky formation that gave Black Mountain its name but there are too many rooftops obscuring the view from here.
My arms cross over my chest as the freezing air finds its way beneath my robe. No matter the temperature, I never feel cold when I’m with Ben. I know that if he were here right now he’d wrap his arms around me and I’d rest my head on his shoulder. I can almost believe my fantasy is real when I close my eyes.
When I open them I see a girl walking slowly in my direction. She’s actually a little unsteady on her feet and I tense with recognition. In the same second she stops and notices me. Usually when this happens she mutters an obscenity or acts like I’m invisible. Today she straightens up, bypasses her house and walks right up to me.
“Hey, Cam.” Bridget says this as if it hasn’t been nearly four years since we’ve had a civil conversation. She looks wrecked. Her makeup is smeared, her bleached hair appears sticky and her eyes are glazed over. She’s obviously been out partying all night.
“Hi, Bridget,” I mutter, wary over what possible reason she might have to speak to me.
Bridget leans against the frame of my dad’s truck and looks me up and down. “Heard you got into some trouble last night.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“Dez’s sister was at the police station looking for her boyfriend. She said she saw you there.”
“I was there. But I wasn’t in any trouble.”
“If you say so.” She shrugs and then grins. “So. You and Beltran, huh?”
“Yup. Me and Beltran.”
She’s still grinning. “That’s cool. Better you than one of those Black Mountain rich bitches.”
The Black Mountain girls are not all rich. Nor are they all bitches. I have a feeling Bridget does not wish to hear this.
She stretches and grimaces in the direction of her house. “Fuck. I don’t feel like going in there. Mom’s probably passed out in a puddle of her own puke. Let’s go down to Imogen’s and score some breakfast.”
Of all the bizarre things that have occurred in the last eight hours, being invited to breakfast with Bridget Spinelli just about takes the cake.
“Thanks, but I can’t.”
She pouts, which can be dangerous. “If you don’t want to hang out just say so.”
“Okay. I don’t want to hang out with you.”
I’m expecting to be cursed out or perhaps punched but Bridget’s eyes drop and she kicks at a mound of dirty slush with her suede boot, which is already ruined from traipsing around in the snow.
“Fine,” she says and starts plodding back to her house, where a long time ago we used to have Saturday night sleepovers and experiment with her mother’s massive makeup collection. Since then we’ve taken completely different directions. That was likely always going to be the case, whether or not I left her behind and went to BMA.
“Hey, Bridget?”
She turns around at the sound of her name.
“Happy New Year.”
She stares for a few seconds and then nods with a small smile. “You too, Camden.” Her gaze shifts to the empty street and she chews her lip. “I guess you’re graduating this year.”
“And you’re not?”
“Doubt it.” She turns around once more. “See ya.”
“See ya,” I whisper. Bridget hasn’t been part of my life for years. And yet a hollow sadness fills me as I watch her trundle up the crooked steps of her house. I don’t mistake her breakfast offer for a return of our friendship. Yet I feel sorry for her. She’s lonely. I know the feeling.
Back inside the house, Frankie is awake and eating a huge bowl filled with cereal that looks like pink candy mixed with marshmallows. He talks to me with his mouth full.
“Were you talking to Bridget Spinelli?”
“Just for a minute. What the hell are you eating?”
“Breakfast. Sit down. I’ll get you some.” He grabs a bowl and pours a generous amount from the open cereal box. To complete the meal he slops a big helping of milk into the bowl and hands it over with a spoon. “Here. The Francisco Galway special.”
“Wait, what? Francisco Galway?”
He takes a seat again and gives me kind of a bashful look. “I was testing it out. I was going to surprise your dad for his birthday next month. My mom has a paralegal friend who is going to use her connections to draw up the paperwork.” He stirs his cereal and gazes out the window. “You know my real dad has never had any interest in me. It’s Bill who’s always treated me like a son. I should have agreed to take his name when our folks got married but I was stubborn about it. So what do you think, Cam? You think your dad will be happy?”
It’s nice to feel tears in my eyes for the right reason. “Frankie, I know our dad will be over the moon.”
Frankie does his best to distract me from worrying about Ben but I’m sure he doesn’t miss the way I check my phone every ten seconds.
“He’ll call,” Frankie promises.
“I know. But waiting sucks.”
Frankie wants to go for a brisk five mile run through the center of Devil Valley and back. I’m not exactly in the same athletic league as him so I decline.
While Frankie goes out to conquer Devil Valley I clean up the kitchen and return to my bedroom, taking care to be quiet so that my parents can sleep a little longer.
At first I sit at my desk and try to take an interest in some of my notes on the next issue of the Bulletin but I abandon that idea pretty quickly. I move to my bed and stare at the ceiling. The urge to confide in someone is overwhelming. There are certain topics that can’t be discussed with my little brother. Or my parents for that matter. This is a job for a friend.
Trina picks up on the second ring. “Cam! Girl, this better not be a butt dial.”
I smile. “Not a butt dial. Sorry, I forgot it was so early.”
“It’s fine. I was already awake and trying to figure out how to shove this boy off my body.” She groans and I hear a series of doors opening and closing on her end. “There, I escaped to the bathroom. What have you been up to over break?”
“A lot. I’ll tell you about it if you’ve got a minute to talk.”
“I have lots of minutes. Kent will probably sleep until noon. What’s up?”
I wrap myself in a blanket and stretch out on my bed. I’m still aching to hear any news at all from Ben but in the meantime no one should ever underestimate the healing power of pouring your heart out to a friend.
“Well, for starters I’m completely in love with Ben Beltran…”
Ben
The Devil Valley PD doesn’t quite know what to make of all this excitement. A drunken New Year’s brawl between cousins would have been their speed but a high stakes business world scandal is a little out of their league. After they take statements there’s no talk about any charges for the assault on Angus since it was self defense in my own house. They seem eager to turn the case over to the authorities in the state where the real crime occurred.
The murder of my father.
When my mother arrives she looks like a basket case and she weeps as she clutches me and then exclaims over my bruises. Then a sudden shift occurs and she becomes steely eyed and begins making demands. She wants a lawyer. And she wants to make some phone calls. She still has a direct number for Reginald, my father’s old friend, the former federal agent who helped us get new identities and a new beginning in Devil Valley. Within hours he arranges for us to be put on a flight to Coral Beach.
The original responding officer is still on duty and offers to drive us home. He goes off to get his car and my mother dashes to the rest room while I wait outside. The last time I looked at a clock it was ten a.m. That had to be at least an hour ago. I know Camden is waiting to hear from me but my phone battery has been dead for hours.
I’m watching the cloud covered sky and wishing for the moment when I get to hold my girl in my arms again when a sleek black car pulls up. Two serious looking men emerge and walk right into the police station without glancing at anyone. They kind of look like secret agents, sunglasses and all, but I’m not thinking that their presence has anything to do with me. Not until the back passenger door opens and my cousin Grey steps out.
I’d like to punch him in his puffy, pathetic face. “What the hell are you doing here?”
He holds up a leather gloved hand. “My lawyers needed to have a word with the police chief.”
“Those guys are your lawyers?”
“They are.”
“Figures.” I exhale with disgust and glare daggers. “I wish he was dead.”
“He’s not.”
“I know.”
“He does have a severe skull fracture and perhaps some brain damage.”
“Bound to be an improvement.”
“I’m flying him to a real hospital as soon as the paperwork clears.” Grey says this with annoyance, as if he’s discussing a parking ticket. “I suppose the press will pick up the story.”
“I suppose they will.”
He looks at me. “Look, I know you hate my guts but I just want to tell you that I came here only planning to do right by you. And you can say whatever you want but it won’t stick. Whether anyone believes you or not, in the end it won’t matter.”
He’s saying that he has every confidence in the Drexler money and connections to make all this ugliness go away. That may be true. But I’m stepping up anyway. In what might be my last conversation with my cousin I render my final judgment.
“You believe me, Grey. You know what he is. What the family is. I wonder what kind of lessons you’re going to teach your own son.”
He flinches at that. I take some satisfaction in knowing that every word will stay in his head forever.
Grey ducks back into the car. “Good luck to you, Ben.”
I do not wish him the same.
The car is still there when my mother joins me but I say nothing to her about who is inside. For the second time today I climb into the backseat of a police cruiser. I’d like to ask to be dropped off at Camden’s, however the sight of a cop car in front of her house will only bring neighborhood gossip and I’ve already caused her family enough grief for now.
The cop turns onto our street and pulls up to the curb. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt glad at the sight of the slate colored house we’ve occupied ever since arriving in Devil Valley. Plenty of times I’ve been guilty of thinking of this place as a dump. I was comparing it to my old house, my old life. I’ll never do that again.
Last night’s trauma combined with a lack of sleep is catching up to me and I need a shower before I can think straight and go to Camden. When I emerge I find my mother seated at the kitchen table, still in her party dress, staring out the window.
She sighs when she hears my footsteps. “I called for a car to the airport. It’ll be here in two hours.” She swallows hard and turns painful eyes to me. “Bennet, I’m so sorry.”
She could be apologizing for the fact that I can’t hide from being a Drexler. Or she could be talking about the unpleasant chore facing me in Coral Beach. Or maybe she’s sorry because in a moment of weakness she obviously confided in Dirtbag.
“I don’t blame you,” I tell her. “I don’t blame you for anything.”
“You should. You were just a boy and you wanted to tell the truth. You wanted justice for your father. I took that opportunity away from you.”
“You were being a parent. You did what you thought you had to.”
“And look where it got us.” She takes a long, bitter look at our surroundings. “Look at the kind of life I gave you.”
I slide into a chair and wait until I’m sure I have her attention before I tell her the truth. “Mom, I like my life here.”
“No, you were supposed to have better than this. The best schools, the right connections, the nicest things….” She puts a hand over her mouth.
I gaze out the window and I’m thinking of Camden and her family. I’m aware that the people I knew back in Coral Beach would have laughed at Camden’s house. They would have turned their nose up at Devil Valley. They never would have associated with people like the Cushings. They would have assumed they were too good for everything and everyone around here. They would have been so very wrong.
“We’re lucky. We have everything we need.” I stand up. “Look, I need to go out for a little while.”
She frowns. “You should pack. I’m not sure how long we’ll need to be there.”
“I’m going to see Camden. I can walk.”
She touches my arm. “Ben, take the car. Please.”
“I will. Thanks.”
“What are you going to tell her?”
“Everything.”
She looks down and nods. “Yes. You should tell her everything.”
“I’ll be back before the ride to the airport shows up.”
“Bennet?” Her eyes lift and now they are full of tears. “I want you to know that you are the best part of my life. I’m so proud of you. He would be proud of you too.”
In response I reach for my wallet and locate an object in one of the interior pockets. It was one of the only possessions I took from the Coral Beach house and I’ve never shown it to my mother. I’ve never shown it to anyone. Now I lay it on the table in front of her.
I don’t know when it was taken. He looks far younger here than I remember him. It’s a profile shot and he’s on a boat with the wind in his hair while he faces the ocean. From his expression it seems he was in the middle of laughing. This is how I like to remember him.
Her eyes widen when she sees the photo and then a tear falls down her cheek. But ultimately she smiles.
I take the keys from the nail beside the door. “We should talk about him.”
“Yes.” She nods. “We should.”
When I get to Camden’s house, Frankie is outside, talking to some of the neighborhood girls. He grins and waves when he sees me.
Camden’s dad answers the door and greets me with a fair amount of caution, which I can’t really fault him for. But her mother welcomes me with a broad smile and asks if I’d like something to eat.
Camden is drawn by the sound of my voice and she flies right into my arms. She looks sleepy and adorable in her sweat pants and robe and I don’t want to let go of her, not now, not ever. But her dad is standing nearby with his arms crossed and a vague frown so I disentangle her legs from around my waist and set her down.
“Are you okay?” Camden touches my face, my arms.
I grimace when she runs her hands over my chest. “Ribs kind of hurt but other than that it’s just a few bruises. I’m fine.”
“We’ll leave you two alone,” says Adela. She taps her husband on the arm and he finally gives me a nod of respect before following his wife down the hall, presumably to their bedroom.
Camden tenderly runs her fingertips over my jaw, which is slightly puffy. “I was so worried.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
The memory of last night returns to her and her eyes fill with tea
rs. “I was afraid he was going to kill you.”
“He might have if it weren’t for you.” I lean in and kiss her, using my tongue to draw hers out and settling my hands on the soft curve of her hips. I’d love nothing more than to spend an endless stretch of hours lying next to her but I can’t do that. Time is short and there are things to say.
I end the kiss and look into her eyes. “You asked me once for an interview.”
She’s confused. “Yes. I did.”
I take her hand. “You can interview me now.”
“Now? But-”
“I can’t stay long, Cam. I need to leave for the airport in a few hours.”
She deflates a little and then nods. “All right. You can have a seat at the kitchen table. I’ll be right there.”
I don’t need to wait for very long. Camden returns promptly with her trusty notebook and the fountain pen I gave her for Christmas. She places her phone on the table and in a professional tone asks if I mind being recorded. I don’t mind at all.
With pen in hand and her phone recording she dives right into the first question. “Who are you and where are you from?”
I take a deep breath and begin the story. “My real name is Bennet Drexler…”
Camden is good at this. She listens without interrupting and asks the right questions when I pause. She keeps her emotions in check until I get to the part where I witnessed my father’s murder. Then her lip trembles and she reaches for my hand. She lets me finish telling the rest of it, right up until I started attending Black Mountain Academy.
When there are no more secrets left to tell she stops recording and sets down her pen.
“What happens how?”
“I fly back to Coral Beach with my mother today. I’ll have to give my statement and then testify if the authorities decide to try and charge Angus and his father. I don’t know if they will. There’s a lot of power behind the Drexler name and my cousin Grey seems confident they’ll have no trouble discrediting me.”
“Are you in danger?”
“Maybe. But there are a lot of people watching now. It’ll be a news story. Won’t be so easy to just make me disappear.”
