“What year are you?” Jake asked.
“I’m a freshman.”
“Sophomore.”
She nodded. “You were in my accounting class last semester.”
He thought for a moment, trying to place her.
“I don’t think you came very often,” she said.
“Maybe that’s why I got a D.” He laughed. “You can’t wing accounting.”
She looked so young, like a high school kid, with thin eyebrows and a small nose. She didn’t appear to have suffered from the dreaded “freshman fifteen” that came from a nice cafeteria and freedom.
“I’m Jake,” he said.
“I know.” She pointed to the appointment book.
He nodded. “You know, where I come from, people usually say their name when I give mine.”
“Alyssa Roberts,” she said as if reading off a report.
“Pleasure to meet you, Alyssa Roberts.”
“Are you sure?”
“What?”
“That this is a pleasure?”
He chuckled. “Well, no, I’ve been dreading it ever since I got caught. But now, I’m thinking maybe it was fate.”
“I don’t think stealing a school mascot had anything to do with fate.”
“One never knows.”
“One bit of advice. Don’t tell her that.”
The door opened, and a young woman Jake didn’t recognize walked out. Ms. Peterson followed her, then saw Jake waiting.
“I guess you can come on in and get this over with.”
“I don’t have to,” he said. “I can stay and talk with, uh, Alyssa for a while.”
Ms. Peterson gave him a cute-now-get-your-tail-over-here look.
Jake smiled at the beautiful girl at the desk. Suddenly he didn’t want to get kicked out of Providence after all.
SIX
June 2005
IT HAD BEEN ELEVEN YEARS since I set foot on the campus of Providence College. I honestly thought I’d never be back.
“This place has changed,” I told David Kirby as we shook hands.
“It’s doubled since we graduated.”
In the center of the college stood an ivy-covered structure that had once been a church years ago.
“I forgot how impressive that looks.”
“That’s Vermuelen Chapel,” Kirby said with a grin. “I’m sure you attended every week.”
“Ah, yes. You know me—never missed one.”
Kirby laughed. He didn’t look much different from when he was my roommate in college—still skinny, but more balding. “So how’re you doing?”
“Can’t complain,” I said. “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Come on,” he said.
“What?”
“I’ve been trying to get you here for, what?”
“A while,” I said with a nod.
“Try years,” Kirby said.
Kirby had been Director of Alumni Relations at Providence for the past four or five years. Every so often I’d get a letter or a voice mail from him asking if I would like to come to Providence and speak in chapel.
“Not every Providence graduate goes on to climb Mount Everest. It’d be great for the students to hear about that.”
“You know, there have been tougher climbs than that,” I acknowledged.
“If you came and spoke in chapel, we’d hear all about it.”
“Before last summer, I wouldn’t have had much to say. Nothing uplifting, that is.”
“You’ll always have enough to say. It’s getting you here that’s the problem.”
“Ever since my parents moved to Colorado and I followed—there haven’t been a lot of reasons to come back.”
We sat on a cement bench located close to the middle of the courtyard. Three sidewalks converged to this area in the midst of the chapel, the new science building, and the older classroom buildings that were there when both of us attended college.
“Where’s your office?” I asked him.
“In what used to be called Dykstra Hall.”
I could see the old two-story building from here.
“Remember when Alec tried to climb up to the balcony?”
Kirby thought for a moment but shook his head.
“That was the first time I ever went out with him,” I said. “Actually, the first time he was ever on campus. It was January, and he was locked out of his dorm. I told him to climb up and get us in. He ended up slipping on ice and fell back and hit his butt on the air conditioner sticking out of the building. The air conditioner ripped out of the building. He went to bed all bloodied.”
“Alec,” Kirby said, shaking his head. “That guy was crazy.”
“That guy is actually why I’m here.” I told him about my meeting with Mr. Jelen and his request.
“So you agreed to help him?”
“It was hard to turn down.”
Kirby looked at me with curiosity. “So how can I help?”
“Remember that e-mail I sent you awhile ago?”
He nodded.
“There’s a part of me that’s wanted to bury Providence and every memory about it.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I know. But—it’s like this is some golden opportunity that I’ve been given. Maybe God is handing this over to me on a silver plate, you know? And when I say silver, I mean silver.”
“What do you mean?”
“This guy wrote me out a nice hefty check—just to try to find his daughter and Alec. Isn’t that insane?”
“I’d worry too, if my daughter ended up missing with Alec.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“You want me to tell you if it’s a good idea?”
“No. I just—you know, out of all of us, you were the only one who had his head screwed on right.”
“I don’t know about that,” Kirby said with a smile. “I was friends with you guys. I actually agreed to be your roommate two years in a row.”
“That’s right. What were you smoking?”
This prompted a genuine laugh. It was refreshing to hear it, a reminder of something good from the past.
“Sometimes I’ll see a group of students and think back on all of us,” Kirby said. “It doesn’t seem like it was that long ago.”
“For me it does. And there are things I’ve chosen to—well, I guess the only word is ignore. Going back to rekindle memories with our old college buddies might dredge up some pretty ugly stuff.”
“Especially when those buddies include people like Alec,” Kirby said with a solemn look.
“Have you heard from him at all?”
Kirby shook his head. I could see the sun shining down on his scalp.
“I think someone was trying to track Alec down not long ago,” he said. “The last known address I had for him was somewhere in Florida. Miami, I think.”
“But you haven’t heard from him since graduation?”
Kirby shook his head. “He wouldn’t come around here. Most of the guys wouldn’t.”
“You see any of them? Mike? Franklin? Shane?”
“Shane lives in Jacksonville, actually. Let’s see. Mike lives downtown. I’ve seen him a few times. Franklin lives in the northern suburbs. He’s a tremendous supporter of the school. I run into him sometimes at college functions. And Bruce—last I knew he was living in California.”
“Probably on a pot farm.”
Kirby laughed. “I can’t give you any more on Alec than you already know. I was always more of the outsider anyway.”
I looked at Kirby for a moment before responding. “You bailed us out of a lot of things.”
“It didn’t end up helping in the end, did it?”
I knew what he was referring to. I’d always wondered how much Kirby knew about everything, especially about our last spring break.
We quickly changed the subject, spending the next few minutes talking about his wife and two children.
“So what about you
? Ever think about marriage?”
“From a distance,” I said. “I think it’s probably not for me.”
“You just have to meet that right person.”
“Yeah, probably.”
I asked if I could get all of the known addresses he had on the guys. Mr. Jelen’s folder had all that information, and it was probably more up-to-date than Kirby’s files, but I figured I’d make sure since I’d come all this way.
“What’s it like working here?” I asked as we entered the old Dykstra Hall.
“It’s an entirely different college, to be honest. President Bramson left a year after we graduated.”
“President Bramson,” I said, not hiding my contempt. “He was a real winner.”
“Yeah—he loved you too. No—everything’s different. The students. The teachers. Some are still here. Remember Dr. Schilling?”
“The English prof?”
“Still here. Still looks the same. Things are just—I mean, the students, for one thing. They’re so different from us.”
“How so?”
“We were the poster children for Generation X. These new students—I’m telling you. They’re different. They work together. They’re not so full of—”
“Angst?” I interrupted with a smile.
“Angst. Rebelliousness. Attitude. It’s just a whole different group.”
“Then you had our class.”
“Yeah. I don’t think there’ll be another class like ours. At least not at a college like Providence.”
I spent an hour in David’s office as he looked up and wrote out information on the guys and then showed off various items from over the years—photos, plans for new buildings, stuff that occupied his time every day. He eventually picked up a framed picture that sat on a desk full of shots of his family and handed it to me. I was surprised to see what it was.
The photo was taken in the apartment our senior year, back when it was Bruce, Carnie, Kirby, and I living together. Mike and Franklin were in it too.
“Look at that. Look at all of us.” I hadn’t seen a photo of Carnie for a while. Seeing him again—the meaty face peppered with several days’ worth of beard, the contagious grin and good-natured eyes—it actually hurt a little. It stung, simply because I hadn’t been expecting it. “Wow. I’ve never seen this.”
“I think Shane must have taken it. The only other one not in the picture is Alec.”
“Remember—he took off for a semester. Or a couple of semesters. Then showed up again in the middle of our senior year?”
“That’s right. Practically lived with us until graduation.”
I couldn’t stop looking at the smiling face.
“Ever think about Carnie?” I asked him.
Kirby nodded and looked at me. For a moment there was nothing else to say.
“Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if Alec hadn’t come back,” I said.
“I still wonder what happened that spring. People still ask about the disappearance. It’s become Providence lore.”
“What do you say?”
“I tell them the truth: I don’t know. I wasn’t there. And I was out of the loop, especially in those final few weeks. I’ve always figured you guys knew more. Not you—but Alec probably. And Carnie. Especially Carnie.”
I nodded and thought of his words. Those final few weeks.
“It seems like that was a movie I watched years ago,” I said. “Some movie I only vaguely remember.”
“What sort of movie?” Kirby asked me.
I stared at the picture of Carnie and remembered the last time I saw him, on the morning of our graduation.
“A horror movie. One I don’t want to watch again.”
“I think you’ve got a great opportunity.”
“To what?”
“To make peace with your past,” Kirby said.
“What if I can’t find Alec? And what about the others—they might not be thrilled to see me.”
“Then at least you tried, right?”
I nodded. “I would love just to find Alec and ask him about those final days, you know. There was a lot he never told us.”
“The only thing …” Kirby’s voice trailed off. “If you do decide to, to seek him out, just …”
“Just what?”
“Just be careful.”
“Of what?” I asked, half laughing at his earnestness.
“I don’t know. A lot can change in a decade. You might not be the only one who wants to keep that stuff in the past.”
SEVEN
January 1994
THE RULES PROHIBITED IT and the campus pharisees judged him for it, but they didn’t know how good it was to feel so alive and real in the moment. And sometimes, as Jake sat on a stool at Shaughnessy’s ten minutes from Providence, drinking bottles that cost $2.50 and listening to Stone Temple Pilots, he knew that this was temporary, that it was not necessarily even real, that tomorrow he would feel the staggering effects from drinking all evening through late night to early morning. But he loved losing himself in the moment, the music and the friends surrounding him and the memories he was building, and in some way it made him feel better. Perhaps a decade from now he’d look back on this time with fondness and a tinge of longing.
They were all out tonight, the night before D-day, before registration and before the official start of their last semester. Tonight was a time to reminisce about days past and brag about the months ahead. They were all drunk and having a good ole time. People said drunkenness was bad, but when you didn’t drive and didn’t harm anybody and didn’t develop bad habits, what was wrong with it? So what if the college rules said you couldn’t drink?
Carnie sat across from Jake, his big eyes occasionally drooping, tired from the beers and from the endless banter he usually stayed out of. Jake noticed that his Ford Trucks T-shirt was a couple sizes too small and a couple washes too faded. Carnie enjoyed listening and smoking and just sucking down the beers one after another. He was part of the audience, never a contestant and never the game show host. Carnie liked it that way.
Bruce brought them another round, dropping the bottles on the table and laughing at the warm reception fifteen bucks could get him. His long, layered hair needed a haircut that would probably expose good looks and a boyish charm. A slight goatee was all he could muster, and you had to be close to really notice it. His eyes would grow tinier as the night went on.
David Kirby moved at an offbeat to the music, trying his best to look cool. David Kirby was never going to look cool no matter how many beers he might have or how hard he might try. At this point in his college career, Kirby had grown out of nights like this. But tonight he was one of them, and they all accepted him regardless of his offbeat vibrations or the way he nursed his one beer.
Shane talked the most, saying things like “—and everywhere she went, I’m serious, they’re all looking at her like who is this chick and all I’m doing is just hanging on saying sure, acting like we’re all a couple—” and waving his hands and showing his square jaw and grunge hair. Shane and his stories could go on forever, with Jake usually ribbing him and getting him riled up.
Franklin sat next to Carnie, and this sort of made Jake feel all warm and cozy, the reality of a guy like Carnie hanging out with Franklin. The redneck from Tennessee hanging out with moneybags from suburbia.
Then there was Michael Fennimore, the kid everybody was still growing used to—too young to shave, a fake ID in his wallet. Jake started hanging out with Michael when he met the freshman last year. At first everybody wondered who the underage kid was. Alec especially hadn’t liked Mike at first. But it didn’t matter. Jake could have brought Ms. Peterson in and the guys would have shrugged, had a beer, and gone on with things.
They talked about women and the world and jobs and the next semester and classes and professors and the girl at the edge of the bar who looked like she could be a working girl but one never knew and the soccer season and Alec and the New Year’s Eve party and Bria
n Erwin and the fight. The conversation just kept going, and an hour passed like recess in grade school.
And as they spoke about graduation day, he appeared.
The man, the myth, the legend.
“Alec!”
A chorus of howls and curses greeted the short figure with spiked hair and devilish eyes that reeked of mischief.
Alec seemed embarrassed at the spectacle and went immediately to the loudest, Shane, who gave him a bear hug and asked in less-than-delicate words where he had been.
“Oh, here and there.”
“Well, it’s about time you’re back!” Shane said, handing him a beer.
Franklin came to Alec’s other side and asked if he was back for good. Bruce chimed in as Carnie simply smiled and lit up a smoke.
“The soccer team went downhill this year—”
“Are you registering tomorrow?”
“You know we got an apartment?”
“So what’s the scoop, man?”
And as the conversation flowed, the mood suddenly subsided for Jake. He remained silent, watching Alec and his wry grin and his downplay of everybody’s actions. He never did say where he’d been since disappearing almost a year ago.
Alec looked over at Jake and briefly nodded. “What’s up?” he said, smiling.
And at that moment, Jake knew it was going to be an out-of-control semester. Just like that.
Jake didn’t say anything. He was still pricked by Alec’s simply taking off the middle of their junior year. He might have died for all they knew. Now he came sauntering back the triumphant hero to a bunch of drunken guys ready to finish out their school year. Alec the hero, conqueror of who knows what and back for only God knows why.
Jake felt a chill and drank to get rid of it.
Jake looked over at Alec and saw the mischievous grin that made him think of a young Dustin Hoffman.
“The note you left was touching,” Jake said. “I appreciate you letting me know where you were going.”
“Did you like my phone message?”
“What message?”
“The one I left next to the note.”
“Right.” They were driving home, heading down back streets in Alec’s Jeep. Even though Alec didn’t slur and acted fine, Jake knew a Breathalyzer would give him away.
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