As stealthily as panic allowed, Joby slipped from bed and began to pull his clothes on. Laura drew a sudden breath and turned beneath the covers. Grabbing the rest of his things, Joby ran from the room before she could awaken and confront him. Fumbling for his car keys, he dashed from her house in his pants and shirt, tossing the rest of his clothes into his mother’s car, then jumping behind the wheel to start the engine. As he lurched from the curb he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Laura’s pale form, robed now, sway onto the porch, illuminated in the green glow of street lamps. There was just time to see the dismay on her face before he gunned the engine and sped away.
By the time he got home, the first gray smudge of dawn had cut distant hills from the sky like paper silhouettes. There was no way to change what he had done, nor any way to live with it, so he had just retreated altogether into numb denial. He dragged his shoes, socks, tie, and coat from the backseat, shuffled up the walk, and opened the front door to find his mother standing there in her nightgown.
“Where have you been?” she asked, sounding torn between fear and fury.
“Out,” Joby said, his gaze falling to the hardwood floor in shame at his half-dressed state, a virtual confession.
“Out where?” she demanded.
“Just out,” Joby said without looking up. Then memory of his father’s departure hit him like a pile driver; his parents’ fight, their final words:
Out.
Out where?
Unable to endure it, he pushed past her and walked woodenly toward his room.
“Come back here!” she snapped. “Don’t you dare walk out on me that way!”
Oh God, the very words!
Some barrier inside him shattered, and he ran for his room, gasping animal cries of misery. Behind him, his mother’s silence suddenly seemed more filled with fear than anger.
Joby flushed the toilet and finished tucking in his shirt just as the second bell rang. One more class, he thought dully, and he could flee all these people. He didn’t know where he would go. Not home certainly. He had spent the weekend locked in his room, despite his mother’s pleas that he come out and tell her what was happening. Maybe he would just wander all night. If he was lucky, he thought, he would simply lose his mind soon, and forget himself entirely.
He pushed the stall door open, and found Jamie Lindwald standing in his way.
“Joby, what’s up?” Jamie demanded.
“I’m late for class.” He tried to walk past, but Jamie stepped into his path again.
“I been watchin’ you all day, Joby. What the hell is wrong?”
“Nothing, Jamie,” Joby mumbled. “Please get out of my way.”
“Not ’til you tell me what’s goin’ on,” Jamie insisted. “You look awful.”
Joby began to feel angry. Since that party two years before, their friendship had been tenuous at best. So why the hell should Jamie suddenly be so concerned now?
“Jamie, I don’t wanna talk right now—to anyone, okay? Just let me go to class.”
“You know your problem?” Jamie said. “You always gotta be the hero—always givin’, never takin’. You were the first person in my whole life who ever tried to be my friend, Joby, but I don’t get to be yours now, do I. I just get to feel grateful. ’S that it?”
“Jamie!” Joby snarled. “My whole life is fucked! You can’t begin to imagine what a fuckup I am! So take your hero shit, and ram it up your nose, ’cause you never came close to fuckin’ up like me!”
“Whadaya think?” Jamie pressed. “I’m gonna look down on you? Come on, Joby. Gimme a chance. Whatever you did, I done worse, or . . . or I owe you fifty bucks.”
The offer’s absurdity almost made Joby smile, but he remembered what he’d done, and his capacity to smile fled again. Suddenly, it seemed right though, to have to say it aloud, to let Jamie see what he truly was, like the beginning of some kind of penance. He looked Jamie squarely in the eye, determined to spare himself nothing, and said, “I slept with Laura Friday night after the prom.”
Jamie looked incredulous, then blurted out, “That’s what all this is about? I wondered why you been running off like that everytime you saw her comin’. Joby! You should be the happiest guy on campus!”
“I knew you wouldn’t understand,” Joby sighed, realizing that he’d just dragged Laura’s reputation through the mud as well. “If you meant what you said about being my friend,” he said, “please, don’t tell anyone about this. For Laura’s sake, if not for mine.” He hung his head and turned to go. “I should never have said anything.”
“No, Joby! Wait a minute!” Jamie moved to plant himself in Joby’s path again. “I’m sorry. I know how much bein’ good matters to you. I like that about you. But, there’s stuff you don’t get either!” He began steering Joby toward the door. “Give me ten minutes, okay? Then, you can go jump off a bridge if you want.”
What the hell, Joby thought. It was too late to go to class now anyway.
Moments later they were sitting on a patch of half-dead grass out behind the wood-shop trailer. Lindwald had talked all the way there with such unexpected frankness and sensitivity that Joby had begun to feel a little better despite himself.
“You try too hard to be perfect!” Lindwald insisted. “Whoever said you couldn’t make any mistakes? No one’s perfect!” He sat up and grinned at Joby. “Ben’s slept with Rebecca, you know. You think God’s gonna send him to Hell?”
“No he didn’t!” Joby gaped.
“Yes he did,” Lindwald insisted. “Cross my heart and hope to go to Hell.”
“He’d have told me!” Joby said.
“You think he’d tell Mr. Perfect a thing like that?” Lindwald scoffed. “That’s what I mean, Joby. Even your best friend’s afraid to tell you stuff, but if you’re ready to start carin’ about somethin’ besides bein’ the school’s top egghead, maybe you can finally belong! See?” He shook his head good-naturedly.
Joby was so wrung out, he didn’t know what to think. Benjamin had done this with Rebecca? Joby couldn’t imagine God throwing Ben in Hell. Moreover, it suddenly dawned on him that Jamie’s revelation hadn’t lowered his own opinion of Ben either.
“Tell you what, bro!” Jamie announced. “Now that you finally got a life, we should go celebrate! I know someone who can get us a couple six-packs. We’ll go out to my personal spot, have a few laughs, loosen up, howl at the moon a little! Hell, Joby! Now you finally been born, you gotta come out an’ get baptized!”
Joby shook his head. “I’m in enough trouble already, Jamie. I don’t think breaking the law is—”
“Joby, what does it take to get through your thick skull? Your ‘perfect’ days are over, and I bet even God’s relieved! You finally got laid, bro!” he crowed. “You’re a man now! So you’re gonna worry about one or two little sips of beer?”
“It’s—not—legal, Jamie.”
Jamie looked at him askance. “For chrissake, Joby. We’re seniors! You think anybody at that college you’re goin’ to won’t be drinkin’? The cops ain’t gonna arrest the whole freshman class at Berkeley, are they?” He shook his head. “Just one little time ’fore we’re outta high school, let’s go celebrate life, huh? Your life!”
Joby stared at his friend as if seeing him for the first time.
“Tell you what,” Jamie announced. “I’ll only have one beer. That way, you can leave your mom’s car at home, and I’ll be your designated driver. Isn’t that responsible?”
Joby had never guessed how really enjoyable Lindwald’s company could be! Amazing, outrageously . . . really bitchin’ company!
In fact, it seemed that six or seven beers with Jamie had done more for Joby than many years of counseling. There was something tremendously therapeutic about needing such utter concentration just to . . . to walk . . . upright. He had no attention left to spare for any of the other things he was so glad not to be able to think about while he was . . . walking . . . but . . . he didn’t care, because the other good thing
about being drunk was that all he felt was one big, warm, drowsy buzz, much too large to leave room for any other feelings, like the ones he was so happy not to be feeling now, while . . . while Jamie was laughing . . . at him, Joby realized, and laughed too, then went sprawling to the ground, scattering his armload of empty beer cans in all directions, and laughing even harder. It felt so good to laugh!
“Good-bye, Mr. Perfect,” Joby burbled as Jamie helped him to his feet, and stuck a few of the fallen beer cans back into his arms. Jamie’s “personal spot” had been a small clearing in the woods outside of town; and, drunk or not, Joby had seen no point in leaving piles of trash to spoil such a pretty place. Jamie, who had consumed much more than one beer after all, had found the idea of cleaning the place up hilarious, and enthusiastically gathered not just their own empty cans, but many of the moldering beer cartons left by “previous campers.”
The hike out seemed far longer than the hike in had been, and Joby’s ability to walk had improved a lot by the time they got to Jamie’s truck. So had his ability to think.
“Come on.” Jamie grinned as they dumped their empty cans and cartons into the bed of his truck. “We can drive around awhile before I drop you at Ben’s. That way, you won’t show up there lookin’ as wasted as you do now.”
“You don’t look so good yourself.” Joby frowned. “I don’t think we should drive anywhere yet. Why don’t we just hang out here for a while, ’til this stuff wears off?”
“Don’t talk dumb, Joby. Beer ain’t new to me like it is to you. I’m nowhere near too heated to drive! Get in.” He yanked the driver’s door open, jumped up behind the wheel, and reached across to unlock the passenger door.
“Jamie, I’m just gonna walk,” Joby said.
“I ain’t spendin’ no two hours walkin’ around,” Jamie complained, “and I ain’t waitin’ around for you to come back here when you figure out what a dumb-ass you are neither. So what’s it gonna be?”
“I’m walkin’, Jamie,” Joby said irritably. “And you shouldn’t be drivin’.”
“Suit yourself,” Jamie growled. “You sure still got a lot to learn about loosenin’ up.” Without further ceremony, he started the engine and left Joby in a spray of gravel.
Joby watched him go, pissed that Jamie could be such a pal one minute and such a bastard the next. When his eyes recovered from the glare of Jamie’s headlights, he discovered there was enough light from the nearby town to see the road by, and began the long walk to Ben’s house.
After half an hour of walking, his pleasant buzz had given way to sore feet and growing fatigue, but the evening had left him clear about one thing: He loved Laura. He had always loved Laura, just as he knew she had always loved him, and what they had done on Friday night had been purely wonderful. He wondered how it had taken him so long to see what had been right there in front of his face.
He was going to marry her. He knew that now with every molecule in his body. The decision was no frivolous by-product of his fading inebriation. It was the most quietly sober, absolutely right decision he had ever made in his life. If he could find some way to fix things after the way he’d acted, he’d ask her to marry him right away. They could go to Berkeley together, or he’d apply to Brown with her; it didn’t matter. Father Richter had told him to learn to love her without lust. Well, he’d spent two years doing just that. Wasn’t that long enough? Wasn’t it time for “the easy part” now?
With that decided, he walked on through the lamp-lit town feeling lighter than he could remember feeling ever before. His feet hardly seemed to touch the pavement now. His head was clear. The night seemed beautiful. He even felt ready to face his mother, now that he knew what to tell her. She loved Laura too, after all.
Lucifer hovered over the viewing bowl in his office, watching Lindwald climb into his truck to leave Joby behind in the dark.
“Lindwald, my dear friend,” he murmured, as if the damned soul’s watery image could hear him, “you’ve played your small part beyond my wildest expectations, every line, parroted to perfection. It’s time for that reward I promised you.” Lucifer chuckled in delicious anticipation. “It’s a little joke, actually, just between the three of us. Alas, poor Joby will not likely get it,” he grimaced in mock regret, “and only I’ll have time to laugh.”
As he watched, the Triangle joined Lindwald in the scene; one to hold Jamie in his seat, lest he leap out of the truck and spoil it all; one to steer his truck toward the embankment; and one to light the spark in his gas tank. Lucifer shook his head and tsked. Given the incredibly thorough illusion of flesh in which Lindwald was trapped, this was probably going to hurt . . . a lot.
Ever since Joby had awakened to his first taste of debauchery’s secondary rewards, Ben had wavered between sympathy founded in certain stark recollections of his own wilder nights, and an urge to smirk. Joby was the last person he had ever expected to see hungover, but when he’d shown up last night, Ben had refrained from pressing him for explanations. That morning as they’d gotten ready for school, Joby had finally told him all about his drinking spree with Lindwald, but refused to tell him why this sudden surrender to indulgence after so many years of respectable sobriety.
As they neared school, however, Ben’s curiosity finally got the best of him. “So, how long do I have to wait to hear the rest of it, Joby?” When Joby didn’t answer, Ben shrugged and let it go again, but then he saw a weird little smile on Joby’s face, and really had to know. “Come on, dude. What drove you to drink?”
“This may seem a little sudden,” Joby said, “but I was wondering if you’d consider being best man at my wedding.”
Ben took his eyes off the road to glance at Joby. “What?”
“I’m gonna ask Laura to marry me,” Joby said, straight-faced. “Today, I think.”
Ben’s mouth fell open. “Is that a joke?”
“Hey! It’s red!” said Joby, pointing through the windshield.
Ben slammed on his brakes, and, when the light had changed, turned the corner and parked the truck.
“It’s not a joke,” Joby said, then smiled like Ben had not seen him smile since they’d been boys. That’s when Ben knew he was for real.
To Ben’s surprise, his own first reaction was a sudden stab of loss. He’d never realized until that moment, or acknowledged anyway, how much he’d hoped that somehow, maybe, someday, he and Laura . . . But then he took a second look at his friend’s radiant face and realized that Joby was, finally, in love! A frantic burst of excitement and delight instantly eclipsed any other feelings.
“You son of a bitch!” Ben shouted gleefully, reaching across to grab Joby up in a bear hug. “Whoever thought you’d beat me to the altar!” He let go of Joby, and leaned back so they could beam at each other until Joby laughed out loud. Then they both were laughing themselves sick. “When you gonna ask her?” Ben said.
“Well, I’ve got some patching up to do first, I think,” said Joby. “We had a little . . . thing . . . after prom, but that’s what made me see how much I love her, Ben. I just hope she’ll have me now.”
“Ha!” Ben laughed. “She’s been trollin’ Joby bait for six years, and you think she’ll say no?”
To Ben’s consternation, Joby’s easy exuberance vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “It was a pretty serious thing,” he said. “I blew it real bad, but I’m gonna get her out of homeroom this morning, and try to work it out.” He smiled a bit more wanly. “The valedictorian can pull some strings and get her a pass, I guess.”
“Finally! He gets it!” Ben exclaimed. “Let’s go get her, Joby.”
He pulled back into traffic, and minutes later they were walking toward the school’s main entrance. Crossing the lawn, Ben’s attention was drawn to a group of girls clustered mournfully around one of their number who was crying. Ben was curious, but felt too buoyant to linger on it. As he pulled one of the school’s big glass doors open for Joby, however, they saw another group of grieving kids at the end of the hall, and r
ecognized Johnny Mayhew standing sullenly at the group’s fringe.
“Lotta girls must’ve got dumped after prom,” Ben said, oddly afraid to dignify his own joke with a smile.
“Hey, Johnny,” Joby called quietly. “What’s wrong?”
Mayhew turned and stared at him, then turned angrily and walked away.
“What’s his problem?” Ben griped.
Joby looked around, and spotted Pete Blackwell. “Hey, Pete, what’s with all the crying around here?”
Pete looked glumly past them at the group down the hall. “Nothing like dying to get friends you never had popping up all over, is there?” he mumbled.
“Who died?” Ben asked with a chill of alarm.
“Jamie Lindwald,” Pete said. “Crashed and burned his truck last night, outside of town. They say there were empty beer cans all over.”
Ben turned to find Joby’s face painted in stark horror.
Pete looked abashed. “Sorry, Joby. I guess you were friends, huh? I should have—”
Before he could finish, Joby whirled, and slammed back through the big glass doors, half-running toward the lawn. Ben dropped his books and ran after him.
“Joby!” Ben yelled. “Wait, damn it!”
Joby ran even faster, right toward the street.
Ben poured on all the speed he had, and managed to throw him to the grass just before he reached the sidewalk. Joby writhed beneath him, but Ben kept him pinned to the lawn. As students gathered at a distance to point and gawk, Joby began to sob.
“It’s got nothing to do with you!” Ben exclaimed. “You told him not to drive! You told me so last night. It was his choice! His, damn it!”
“I should have stopped him!” Joby wailed. “He was out there ’cause of me!”
The Book of Joby Page 23
