“Gamble much?”
“Moving to California was a gamble.”
“Pay off?”
“No,” he said, lighting up a cigarette. “I lost. Big time. Maybe I’ll wise up and eventually move on.” His eyes looked like slits, like he had a bad sinus infection. He was chalk white and his skin looked stretched over the bones.
Later on, as he started to obviously feel the booze, he was harder to talk with.
“So you came here for what?” he asked. Already he’d forgotten.
“Looking for Alec.”
“Yeah? What’d he do?”
“The question is where is he?”
“Not around here.”
“You haven’t seen him recently?”
“I haven’t seen my mom recently.”
“Think.”
“I get in trouble when I try to do that,” Bruce answered.
“He hasn’t called or anything?”
“A while ago maybe—I mean, I don’t know. I told you—you didn’t need to fly across the country for me to tell you that again.”
“Maybe I wanted to see you.”
“My memory’s bad. But it ain’t gone. Eleven years is a long time, you know.”
“Good memory.”
“I was the last to say good-bye. I remember that too.”
“What are you drinking?” I asked.
“I’ve been into Jack and Coke these days. Really sweet. Really need another. What do you want?”
“Beer is fine.”
“You’ve been nursing them all night,” he said.
When he came back with the drinks, he picked up where he’d left off. “Remember that hole of an apartment we lived in?”
“Scary,” I said.
“It’s pathetic. All this time and I’m still living in a two- bedroom apartment. Like life’s been playing, but someone hit the pause button for me.”
A woman a hundred pounds overweight walked by with pants that looked as tight as Spandex.
“See? See that? That is why this is a beautiful town.”
“Maybe we should talk over breakfast,” I said.
“This is it right here.” He toasted to me and drained his glass. “This is life. You know? Some things never change.”
But they do. And I think Bruce knew that too.
The drive to his apartment was blurry with rain and slow with incomprehension. It was difficult getting anything out of Bruce, who was halfway passed out on the passenger seat beside me, then waking up to drink from a bottle of vodka he had found in his backseat. He kept offering me a sip.
“Just a swig, man.”
“I’m driving.”
“Man, you’ve changed.”
“When did I pound vodka in college?”
“Your memory’s as bad as mine.”
“Just tell me where to go.”
He slipped in Pearl Jam and cranked it. “You know—I’ve always wondered something.”
“How to get home?” I asked.
“How do you know if it’s for good?”
“What?”
“When someone leaves you.”
He played the song again. I know someday you’ll have a beautiful life, Eddie Vedder belted out over the loudspeakers.
“Remember that Pearl Jam concert? With Mike?”
“That was a crazy night,” I said.
“Sometimes I wish it could be so easy—you know? No worries. Like it used to be.”
“College wasn’t easy. That’s the myth we believed.”
“Huh?”
He wouldn’t get it anyway. Bruce was still chasing a myth, an imaginary dream.
A few minutes later, when I began to think he had drifted off, he leaned over and whispered to me with half-closed eyes, “Alec is dead. He’s a ghost. A spirit. A demon.”
Then he passed out until I nudged him awake after we parked outside the apartment complex.
It took a long time just to help him get to his front door. We unlocked it and walked into an apartment that had been turned upside down. At first I thought this was just how he lived, but then I saw the opened drawers and tossed clothes. Papers were strewn all over the floor. Cushions lay on the floor in front of the couch. A television looked tossed aside in the corner. One of the lamps in the main living room area looked cracked in half.
“Bruce—what happened … ?”
Bruce stood for a moment, delirious and confused. He knelt over one lamp and then tried to piece it back together, swaying and scratching a white wall with the base of the lamp.
“Bruce, man, why don’t you sit?”
He went to the couch and sat on it even though the pillows were tossed aside. I tried to clean up a little, but it was pointless.
“What happened here?”
He kept looking around, surprised and even startled.
“I don’t know. But I didn’t do this.”
“Do you know who did?”
Bruce nodded, then looked at me and tightened his face and lips. “It was Early.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Early. My bird. That possessed bird came back with a vengeance.”
Then he leaned over and passed out again on his couch.
For a moment I sat in a chair and just looked around, feeling like a stranger invading someone’s private life.
Someone had been here recently, looking for something.
Either looking for something or trying to get a message to Bruce.
I wondered for a moment if Bruce had done this himself, but I ruled that out. He might be lost and floundering in his life, and he might be under the spell of booze and pot, but he had never been violent.
Someone else had done this.
And I couldn’t help but wonder, and fear, that it had something to do with Alec.
ELEVEN
February 1994
IT HAD BEEN THE COLDEST winter Jake could remember. He chose a table close to the fireplace, a spot where nobody else could see them. Not that anyone they knew would be here. Jake doubted she would even stick around to sit down, much less feel the warmth from the flickers that cast shadows over the back room of The Wild Goose. It was a fancy restaurant Franklin had recommended, one the Gotthards went to on a regular basis. The Thursday night crowd were in their forties and up, scattered around the dimly lit rooms.
Jake faced the opposite way so she wouldn’t see him. Not at first.
This was a blind date for Alyssa; she had no idea it was Jake on the receiving end. He had spent the last month getting her roommate, Renee, to coordinate it. Renee had been Alyssa’s roommate for the last two years; the two were good friends but as opposite as Jake and Carnie. Renee played basketball and softball for Providence, was brash and outgoing and occasionally could be seen at parties having a beer or two. The redhead was one of those tough, just-do-it sort of girls who probably was good for Alyssa.
Jake had concocted this plan months ago, and tonight it was finally happening.
Light music played in the background. Jake made a fist and then breathed in and out, as though he were a soloist about to go on stage. That would truly be a disaster, but this could be even worse.
“Still waiting, sir?”
He nodded at the waiter. Sir. Obviously the guy didn’t know who he was talking to. Jake sipped his water.
He thought of their first date a year ago, a three-hour series of disasters that ended with Alyssa pushing him off her in the car and leaving without saying good-bye. Jake should have known better, but there had been something, and Alyssa for a moment had let herself go. He hadn’t draped himself over her and then felt the sting of rejection. It was in the heat of the moment, after an awkward dinner at a dive and then a stint at a party, when Alyssa seemed to let herself go and then get more angry at herself than with him.
He thought about the letter he’d received from her the next day. He remembered every line: I’m sorry for last night, Jake. Please know it was a nice night and that I shouldn’t have ended it without even a thank you or a good
night. You and I are two different people. Maybe we should just leave things at that.
But he didn’t want to leave things “at that.” And that’s why he owed Renee big-time.
“Get me a date with Alec and we’re even,” she’d said, to which Jake had agreed, even though he knew that task was even more daunting than the one he’d given her.
But he didn’t feel bad arranging something like that, especially after the double-date in Chicago that ended up in drunken debauchery.
Don’t think about that, he thought. Not tonight.
He heard footsteps approaching and straightened up, his dry-cleaned, button-down shirt a little too starchy for his liking. A figure in a black dress drifted by, then stopped by the chair across from him.
She looked exquisite.
“Alyssa!” he said in mock surprise. “What are you doing here?”
For a minute she just stood there, looking around the restaurant. “This isn’t happening.”
“Is this a joke?” Jake said, unable to keep the smile off his lips.
“Yeah, it is,” Alyssa said, starting to walk away.
The host who had brought her over stood off to the side as if watching an act at the circus. Jake got up and quickly ran around Alyssa to block her from walking off.
“Wait, please, hold on.”
“No. My ride—I have to get them before they leave.”
The plan had been that Alyssa would be dropped off here and that her blind date—that is, Jake—would take her back to the college.
“Alyssa, please.”
“Did you get Renee to do this?”
“Yes. I owe her. Sorta like a thirty-year mortgage.”
“I’m going to kill her.”
“I know. And that’s fine. But you don’t want to kill her on an empty stomach.”
Alyssa shook her head and looked at him with incredulous eyes. “You’re really something.”
“Just dinner. Nothing else. I swear.”
Her eyes rolled over him. “I might not have even recognized you. You actually shaved.”
“A guy’s gotta try, you know.”
She seemed to still be deciding, then she turned around and slid onto her chair.
Jake could feel his heart beating in his throat. He couldn’t believe she was actually going to stay.
For a while, it had actually felt like a real and legitimate date.
“It’s weird to think people come here on a weeknight for dinner,” Jake said as he worked on a T-bone.
“It’s weird to think we’re joining them.”
Jake smiled as if to say touché. Alyssa wasn’t a steak eater and had opted for a special pasta dish that came out looking like a piece of art. Since she had decided against wine, Jake had done the same, wishing he could have something to ease his apprehension. As hard as he tried not to show it, he knew his nerves showed.
“So, Mr. Rivers. How many ladies have you taken to The Wild Goose?”
“Hundreds,” he said. “Then we go down the street to the Hinsdale Marriott.”
“I knew it.”
“You know I’m kidding. You act like I have some crazy reputation.”
“Word gets around.”
“What do you mean, word? Come on.”
“You and Alec—”
“Hold on. Alec is his own man. Don’t lump me in with him.”
“I’ve heard stories.”
“He’s only been back a month.”
“Yes, but I’ve heard stories about you two.”
For a moment Jake got a sick feeling in his stomach, and he pictured the night in Chicago again. He wondered what Laila had said about it, especially since he had avoided her around campus ever since.
He buried those thoughts. “Yeah. The movie Risky Business. That’s our biography.”
“You act so innocent,” Alyssa said.
“And you act like I’m so guilty.”
“Let’s see. How many times have I seen you in Ms. Peterson’s office?”
“Not for girls.”
“One thing leads to another.”
“You’re wrong.”
“And what about Brooke. Diana. Laila.”
She knows. She’s just waiting to hear me admit it.
“Hold on now. Brooke—we dated, yeah. Nothing there. Diana, I have no idea what you’re talking about. And Laila—who hasn’t gone out with her?”
“It’s good to know you’re selective,” Alyssa said, wiping a corner of her mouth with her napkin.
“You know what I mean.”
“Actually, no, I don’t.”
“This is what drives me insane about you. You make it out like I’m some typical guy, some pig.”
“And you’re not?”
“No.”
“Laila does date quality guys.”
Jake didn’t want to go there with Alyssa. “I’m not saying you’re Laila. You’re nothing like that—”
“That what?”
“Laila,” Jake finished, being nice.
“See, the thing is, I can see her with a guy like you.”
“You have me all wrong.”
“Do I?”
“That’s why I had to concoct this date, for you to try to get to know the real Jake Rivers.”
“And who is that guy? The guy who drove on the soccer field and caused several thousand dollars’ worth of damage? The guy who helped take—or should I say steal—every single fork from the cafeteria and decorate the lawn with them?”
“That was Shane’s idea, by the way—”
“The guy who seems to like to partake of alcohol quite frequently?” she continued.
“Not tonight.”
“Who exactly is that guy then? Tell me that.”
“It’s a guy who hates fake people and being a hypocrite.”
“So stealing forks is being authentic?”
Jake couldn’t help laughing. “No. But the partying, all that stuff. You know—Ms. Peterson thinks I have a drinking problem.”
“Do you?”
“No. Yeah, I know. If you have a problem, of course you deny it. But I don’t. I’m just doing what other college kids do. It’s just this college we go to.”
“Then why are you going here?”
“I went to USC for a while. Flunked out and got into a lot of trouble. My parents gave me an ultimatum. If they were going to pay for college, I’d go where they told me.”
“Must be nice to have a paid vacation.”
Jake shifted in his seat and took a sip of water. “Alyssa, tell me one thing.”
“What?”
He studied her sweet, reflective face. Sitting across from her was worth it all. Too many nights he’d be sitting in a bar or in his apartment and would close his eyes and picture her there, just as she was now, a picture of innocence and dignity.
“Our date last year. Didn’t you feel anything?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean—I know there was something on the other end of that kiss.”
She shook her head, and one hand nervously brushed her hair behind her neck.
“Tell me—don’t lie,” Jake asked.
“That girl has grown up.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that she isn’t looking for a guy she can carry home from a party and tuck into bed.”
Jake couldn’t help chuckling.
Alyssa went on. “She’s looking for someone who shares her beliefs.”
“Oh, come on.”
“What?”
“Where’s that coming from? I believe everything you believe.”
“How do you even know what I believe?”
“I know the type of person you are, Alyssa.”
“If you did, you’d realize I’m very different from you.”
“Don’t they say opposites attract?”
“Sometimes. But not this time.”
Jake looked at her and nodded. For the next moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at her
and tried to find the right words to utter. For once, he couldn’t be sarcastic and funny. He suddenly felt very sad, and he wasn’t sure why.
They didn’t order dessert. When the check came and Alyssa demanded that she let him accept her money, Jake told her he’d leave it for the waiter.
On the drive home, the heater going full blast and the silence awkward, Alyssa tried to make some sort of amends. “I’m sorry, Jake.”
“It’s fine, really. This was a bad idea.”
“It’s not you.”
He let out a cynical laugh. “It’s entirely me.”
When he reached the campus, he drove around to her dorm and stopped the car.
“Sorry this wasn’t the dream date you had hoped it would be,” Jake said.
“It was better than I expected it to be.”
He nodded. Alyssa looked at him, the windows in the car shielding them from the cold and the outside world.
“Jake.”
“Yeah?”
“You were right.”
“About what?”
“About something being on the other end of that kiss.”
He looked into her eyes, then looked away and asked, “What’s that mean?”
“It means … it means you’re not a bad guy. Thank you for dinner.”
With that, she opened the door and left. No kiss good night, no small tug on his hand, no mesmerizing glance. Just a polite smile and a departure.
TWELVE
June 2005
SHANE MARCUS AND HIS WIFE, Tracy, were sickeningly perfect but impossible to dislike.
He picked Bruce and me up from the Jacksonville airport with surprise and elation when he saw there were two of us. “No way. Where’d you find this guy?”
Shane was shorter than us and trim. He gave us hugs and patted Bruce on the back. “You’ve gotten taller and skinnier. Why can’t I do that?”
“Before there was Atkins, there was Atkinson.”
“You don’t want that diet,” I said as we followed Shane outside toward the parking lot.
“So you guys flew out together from San Francisco?”
“I decided to tag along,” Bruce said.
He glanced at me, and we both knew the truth. It was probably good for him to pack a suitcase and get out of town. Someone was looking for him. Maybe Bruce held some secrets he still hadn’t told me. But he didn’t hold any special ties to California. Not anymore.
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