Shadows

by John Saul

  Brenda sighed. “It’s been terrible,” she agreed. “I just wish you could take him right now. I know he belongs here, and I just don’t know how much longer I can cope with him at home—” She was about to say more when the door, which had been only partly ajar, was pushed open. Josh was standing there, his face stormy.

  “I knew it,” he shouted. “You are mad at me for what I did, and you’re just sorry you can’t get rid of me! I’m glad I flunked the stupid test. Do you hear me? I’m glad!”

  Turning, he raced away again, and this time Brenda followed him, almost stumbling over the little girl who was also standing in the hall, staring after Josh. Only when Brenda was gone did Amy step shyly into Dr. Engersol’s office.

  “Is it true?” she asked. “Did Josh flunk? Isn’t he coming here?”

  Engersol shook his head. “Of course he didn’t flunk, Amy,” he told the obviously worried little girl. “If he wants to, he’s certainly coming here. And I very much hope he does.”

  “I do, too,” Amy agreed, then left the director’s office, intent on going to find Josh. If she couldn’t talk him into staying, she decided, she was definitely going home, too.

  Even if she had to run away.

  Brenda found Josh by the car, sobbing. “Honey, what is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “I heard what you said. You don’t even want to take me home!”

  “Honey, that’s not true—” Brenda protested, then stopped, hearing her own words ringing in her ears, words she’d never intended for Josh to hear—words that certainly hadn’t been meant in the way he’d interpreted them. But if all he’d heard were the last few words she’d said to Dr. Engersol …

  “Oh, darling, I’m sorry,” she told him, kneeling down and hugging him close. “Of course I want to take you home. But this is where you belong. You didn’t flunk the test. You did better on it than anyone ever has before! All I was saying was that I’m sorry you can’t start right away!”

  Josh was staring at her, his eyes widening as what she was saying sank in. “I passed?” he asked. “I got in?”

  “Of course you did,” Brenda told him.

  “B-But what if I don’t want to stay?” he asked, his voice quavering with uncertainty. “What if I don’t like it here? What if I want to go home?”

  Before Brenda could answer, the little girl she’d seen outside George Engersol’s office a few moments ago tentatively approached the car.

  “Josh?” Amy asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “N-Nothing,” Josh stammered, unwilling to tell Amy how frightened he suddenly was. “Maybe I just don’t want to come here.”

  Amy looked hurt, but then reached out and took Josh’s arm. “But you have to,” she argued. “You promised, remember? If you got in, I’d stay, and we’d be friends.”

  “That was before,” Josh mumbled.

  Amy’s eyes welled up, but she stood firm. “You mean you don’t want to be my friend?”

  “N-No,” Josh said. “I mean, that’s not what I mean. It’s—”

  “But you can’t be my friend if I never see you again,” Amy told him.

  “So what?” Josh objected. “You don’t even know me.”

  Amy hesitated, then made up her mind. “Yes, I do,” she said, her own face setting as stubbornly as Josh’s. “You’re just like me. You’re scared, that’s all. And you said you don’t have any friends back in the desert anyway. So you might as well stay. Okay?”

  Josh blinked at the little girl. Was it possible she really meant it? That she really wanted him to be her friend? But he’d already made up his mind. How could he change it now?

  And then his mother spoke. “Look,” she said. “I didn’t mean what you thought I meant, and I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. So why don’t we go to the picnic on the beach, like Mrs. Kramer asked us to, and you can make up your mind later on. Afterward, if you still don’t want to stay here, I promise I’ll take you home, and never even suggest a place like this again. Okay?”

  Josh gazed suspiciously up at her. “Cross your heart?”

  “Cross my heart,” Brenda replied, somberly making the required gesture.

  Josh hesitated, then nodded. “All right,” he said. “But remember, you promised.”

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Brenda followed the two children as they headed back toward the mansion so Amy could get a beach towel.

  7

  It was nearly six o’clock by the time Josh and Amy, accompanied by Brenda, reached the top of the cliff that overlooked Crescent Cove, a narrow strip of sand caught between two rugged points that jutted out into the sea. The points, rocky crags that bore the brunt of the winds off the Pacific, were studded with twisted Cyprus trees. Brenda paused for a moment to gaze at the panorama spread before her. “Isn’t it gorgeous?” she asked. “Maybe I ought to quit my job and move here.” But even as she spoke the words, she knew it was impossible. Every one of the restaurants they had passed as they walked through the town seemed to have an ample supply of college girls working as waitresses. Even if she could find a job, she’d never be able to afford to rent an apartment here. “Or maybe I ought to be thankful for what I’ve got, huh?” she added.

  When Josh made no response, she tore her eyes away from the view and glanced down at him. But he wasn’t paying any attention to her, or to the view of the ocean. Instead, he was staring at Amy, who, in turn, had turned pale, her eyes wide as she stared down at the beach below.

  “Amy?” Brenda asked. “Are you all right?”

  The little girl shook her head. “I—I feel dizzy,” she said. She took a step backward and turned away from the precipice. “I felt like I was going to fall off,” she whispered.

  “It’s called acrophobia,” Josh announced. “It’s when you’re afraid of heights.”

  “I know that,” Amy retorted. She moved farther away from the edge, then turned back, her eyes fixing fearfully on the rickety-looking landing from which wooden stairs zigzagged down the face of the cliff to the beach below. “M-Maybe I’ll go back to the school,” she said, her stomach tightening with just the thought of going down those stairs.

  “What about the picnic?” Josh protested.

  “I—I don’t really like picnics,” Amy lied, her eyes still fastened on the stairs.

  “You’re scared of the stairs, aren’t you?” Brenda asked, crouching down next to the little girl. Amy said nothing, but her head bobbed emphatically. “I’m sure they’re perfectly safe,” Brenda assured her. “Look at all the people down there. They all went down the stairs.” She took Amy’s left hand and tried to lead her closer to the edge so she could see the rest of the kids playing on the beach, but Amy hung back.

  “Wh-What if I fall?” she asked, her voice quavering.

  Josh moved over to her and took her other hand, so she was between him and his mother. “I won’t let you fall.”

  Uncertainly, Amy let herself be drawn closer to the edge, but once more the dizziness seemed to overwhelm her, and she almost felt like she was being pulled over the cliff.

  “It’s okay,” Josh told her, squeezing her hand. “You’re not gonna fall.”

  A moment later they came to the landing at the top of the stairs. Amy froze, refusing to put even her toe on the weathered, splintery wood.

  “You go first, Mom,” Josh said. “Then she’ll see that it’s not going to collapse.”

  Brenda, feeling a touch of vertigo herself, hesitated a second, praying that her son was right, but then stepped onto the landing and started down, her hand grasping the rail with every step. “See?” she said with more brightness than she felt. “It’s perfectly safe.”

  Amy watched her warily, then looked fearfully at Josh. “Promise you’ll hold my hand all the way down?” she asked.

  “I promise,” Josh replied. “If you stay on the inside and don’t look down, you’ll be okay. Come on.”

  He moved out onto the landing. Clutching his hand tightly, Amy took a d
eep breath and put her foot on the wooden planks.

  Was it her imagination, or could she feel them shaking beneath her foot?

  Holding on to Josh with one hand, her other steadying herself against the face of the cliff, she started down.

  With each step, she imagined herself pitching forward, tumbling off the stairs, plummeting to the rocky beach below.

  “It’s gonna be okay,” Josh assured her, sensing her fear. “You’ll see. Just keep going.”

  A few minutes later they came to the last turn. Only fifteen more steps separated them from the beach. Amy, her panic finally releasing her from its grip, let go of Josh’s hand. “I did it,” she breathed. “I made it.” Breaking into laughter, she skipped down the last of the steps, picked her way over the rocks and ran down the beach to the water, kicking off the rubber sandals she was wearing as she went.

  Brenda, already on the beach, watched Amy go, then shifted her attention back to George Engersol.

  Halfway down the steps she’d noticed him, already on the beach, watching Amy’s progress as she crept down the stairs. Indeed, she’d paused for a moment, watching him as he observed the little girl. When he finally felt her eyes on him, and looked directly at Brenda, she ducked her head and hurried on down. But as she waited on the sand, she noticed that he was still watching Amy. And his expression had struck her as odd.

  An expression of such intense concentration—lips compressed in a grim line, eyes narrowed into a stare sharp enough to cut bone—that Brenda felt a shudder course through her, as though a chill wind had come off the ocean. By the time she shook off the feeling Amy had finally come to the bottom and dashed off toward the water. Still, Engersol remained motionless. He didn’t turn to speak to Brenda, although she was standing only a few feet away from him. Instead, his head down and his hands clasped behind his back, he had finally moved away.

  She watched him go, uneasiness stirring again inside her. His reaction to the little girl’s conquering of her fear, she thought, was strange.

  But before she could analyze it any further, Hildie Kramer approached her, holding out a welcoming hand. “Come on,” the matronly woman said, her warm smile wreathing her face. “There’s a couple of people I want you to meet.”

  While Josh headed off after Amy Carlson, Brenda was drawn into a group that included a few of the teachers at the Academy, as well as the parents of two of its students. Within a few moments she was deep in conversation with Chet and Jeanette Aldrich, one of whose sons, Jeff, she’d already met.

  “That’s the other one,” Jeanette told her, pointing to Adam, who, with his brother, was bobbing in the water a few yards from the shore.

  Brenda stared at the twin faces with undisguised surprise. “Two of them?” she breathed. “My God, when I think of the problems I’ve had with just Josh—” She broke off in sudden embarrassment. To her relief, Jeanette Aldrich only chuckled ruefully.

  “Tell me about it,” Jeanette said. “Only double it. Two kids with enough brains for four.” A look Brenda could not quite read shadowed the woman’s face for an instant before she brightened and said, “Believe me, without this place, I’d have been in a mental hospital by now.”

  Chet Aldrich handed Brenda an already opened can of beer. Then the questions in Brenda’s mind began bubbling out of her. The Aldriches, apparently having been through all this before, listened patiently. For the first time, Brenda realized she was talking to people who understood exactly what raising Josh had been like.

  Even if, in the end, Josh refused to come to the Academy, just spending a few hours talking to the Aldriches was going to make the whole trip worthwhile.

  • • •

  Josh and Amy were wading slowly along the shoreline, the gentle waves in the cove breaking over their feet. They’d been on the beach for almost half an hour, but neither of them had made any move to join the rest of the kids, preferring to remain by themselves, poking around among the tide pools at the northern end of the cove, Amy showing Josh the various creatures that lived among the crevices and crannies of the rocks. As the tide had begun coming in, and the pools had flooded with water, they started reluctantly back toward the other kids, who were gathered around a man Josh hadn’t seen before.

  “Who’s that?” he asked Amy, nodding toward the tall man with blond hair and a beard.

  “Mr. Conners,” Amy told him. “He’s the English teacher.”

  “What’s he like?”

  Before Amy could answer, Jeff Aldrich dashed over to them. “Come on,” he urged. “We’re gonna play volleyball!”

  Josh felt his heart sink. He glanced at Amy, who didn’t seem any happier about the idea than he was. He already knew what was going to happen. The teacher would choose the two biggest guys as captains, and then they’d start choosing up sides. And if it happened like it always did in Eden, he’d be chosen last, even after all the girls.

  “I don’t want to,” he told Jeff. “I hate volleyball.”

  “I hate it, too,” Amy agreed, and suddenly Josh was certain she was thinking the same thing he was. “We’ll just watch.”

  The two of them started toward the area of the beach where the blankets were spread out on the sand, but before they’d gotten past the crowd of kids, Steve Conners called out to them.

  “Hey, you two, come on! Nobody gets out of this!”

  Josh and Amy froze, glancing at each other. What would happen if they said no?

  Neither of them was sure.

  They both hesitated, as if each was waiting for the other to decide what they both should do. “M-Maybe we better do it,” Josh finally said. “I don’t want to get in trouble.”

  “But I hate it,” Amy blurted out. “Nobody ever chooses me, and they all make faces when they get stuck with me!”

  “That’s what happens to me, too,” Josh admitted.

  “Will you two come on?” Conners shouted once more. “Amy, you stay on this side, and Josh can go over there.”

  Suddenly, without anyone choosing up sides, the group split up, some of them going to the other side of the net to join Josh, the rest staying with Amy. “Too many people on that side,” Steve Conners called out after taking a quick count. “Somebody else come over here.” Adam Aldrich, who happened to be standing closest to the net, ducked under, switching teams. “Okay, who wants to serve first?” Conners called. To Josh’s surprise, nobody demanded the ball.

  Finally, Brad Hinshaw pointed to Josh. “Let him serve,” he crowed. “If he’s as good at this as he is at chess, maybe we can score some points!”

  Before Josh could say anything, Steve Conners tossed him the ball, which hit him in the chest, then fell to the ground. He froze, waiting for the other kids to laugh, but no one did.

  He picked up the ball and took it to the end of the court, or at least what he thought might be the end of the court, since there weren’t any lines marking the boundaries. “H-Here?” he asked Steve Conners uncertainly.

  The teacher shrugged. “Looks as good as anyplace else.”

  Josh felt the eyes of all his teammates watching him.

  In a minute, when they found out he wasn’t any good, they’d start razzing him.

  Maybe he should trip accidentally-on-purpose and pretend he’d twisted his ankle. Then at least he wouldn’t have to play.

  But he’d have to remember to limp around for the rest of the night, and they might even make him go see the nurse or something.

  Resigned to what was about to happen, he held the ball in his left hand, then dropped it as he swung up at it with his right.

  Just as he knew it would, the ball shot off the wrong way, dropping into the sand way out of bounds. He felt his face turn crimson as he waited for the laughter he expected.

  “Doesn’t count!” Brad Hinshaw yelled.

  Josh, baffled, stared at Brad, who only shrugged. “It went out of bounds. It only counts if it goes over the net.”

  “That’s not how they play it at home—”

  “Well,
it’s how we play it here,” someone else yelled. “Try it again, but get closer to the net. And hit it overhand!”

  Josh picked up the ball, then moved a little closer to the net. Aware of everyone watching him again, he held his breath, clenched his right fist, and tossed the ball into the air. He swung at it hard—and missed. Losing his balance, he tumbled into the sand and felt the ball hit him on the back as it dropped.

  And now he heard them laughing.

  Tears coming to his eyes as he realized he’d made an idiot of himself, he scrambled to his feet and ran down the beach, putting as much distance between himself and the rest of the kids as possible.

  Brenda, seeing Josh race off, started to stand up, but Jeanette Aldrich, sitting next to her on the blanket, held her back. “Don’t,” she said. “Let Steve Conners handle it.”

  “But Josh hates sports,” Brenda protested. “And wasn’t it Mr. Conners who made him play?”

  “It’ll be all right,” Jeanette assured her. “Steve knows what to do.”

  All Brenda’s instincts told her to ignore the other woman’s words, to go to her son and try to soothe his bruised ego, but then she stopped herself. If Josh was going to stay here, he’d have to get used to not having her around to help him out.

  And if she went to him now, given what had just happened, she was sure she knew what he’d say: “See? They’re laughing at me! I’m not going to stay here! I want to go home!”

  Checking her urge to mother him, she forced herself to remain where she was.

  A hundred yards down the beach, crouched by himself, Josh wondered why he’d ever let his mother bring him here in the first place. It was going to turn out just like the school at home, with everyone laughing at him. The humiliation of what had just happened wiped out the memory of the chess game with Jeff Aldrich, and the friendliness of Brad Hinshaw.

  And now, after he’d acted like a jerk, even Amy probably wouldn’t like him anymore.

  He sensed a presence behind him and stiffened. Oh, Jeez—his mother hadn’t come after him, had she? Now they’d all think he was a baby. But the voice that spoke to him wasn’t his mother’s at all.