by Dave Dykema
He tried to think of his opportunities at Michigan State and get excited about those. It didn’t take long to get pumped up about his future. Yes, he regretted having to leave, but knew it was for the better.
Before he could lose his enthusiasm, he flicked the lights off and stepped into the hall, closing the door on this chapter of his life, but eager to start writing another.
*2*
Jerry stopped drinking his water in mid-sip when Janet walked in. She wore shorts, a sleeveless knit top, and sandals. She beamed when she found him.
“Jerry! Good to see you,” she said, embracing him.
He held her close, taking in the scent of her perfume. “It’s good to see you, too.”
That sat and played catch-up on each other’s lives, with Jerry doing most of the talking. Soon the food arrived, and Jerry realized he had yet to ask any questions for Dan. He slid into it gradually.
“I’m glad I reached you,” he said. “Dan says you’re hardly there anymore.”
“Does he?” she said, sounding slightly bored.
He took a long drink of water. “He says that the two of you have been fighting lately.” He asked the question in a way popular with reporters: not really asking a question, but simply saying a statement and seeing how the interviewee responds. He looked across his glass and into Janet’s eyes.
She avoided his gaze as always. “I’ve been busy. I don’t have as much time to do things as he would like.”
“Then you’ve been active at work? I didn’t think the real estate market was that strong this time of year.”
“Not only with work related stuff,” she answered, “but all sorts of things.”
“Like what?”
She smiled at him across the table. “A girl’s got to have some secrets, now, doesn’t she?”
“Sounds to me like you’re avoiding him.”
“Does it?” she asked back. She hated what he was doing to her. She was dodging questions, and he knew it. In light of recent events Dan was old news, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have any feelings for him.
She decided on a different tack since being coy didn’t seem to work. Instead, she was more direct.
“It seems like you’re judging me without knowing the full truth.”
Jerry’s eyebrows rose. “How so?”
“Step back and look at this objectively for a second. You’re his best friend. Of course you’re going to side with him.”
He was a reporter, objectivity part of his daily routine, but still he thought she might have a point. “Okay, tell me your side.”
“Let’s get one thing straight first. I like Dan. I like him very much. I’m just not sure I love him anymore.”
“Did you tell him that?”
She looked down. “No.”
“He’s confused. He doesn’t know where he stands. I know whatever’s happened has affected him deeply. He’s been drinking a lot lately.”
“I thought so. The last time I saw him he practically attacked me,” she said, slanting the truth.
“What?”
“I went to his place for what was supposed to be a make up dinner. Dinner went all right, nothing special. Afterwards we sat together on the couch. I wanted to talk about us, but all he wanted was to screw. He kept pulling at my blouse, trying to unbutton it. I told him to stop, but he just kept pressuring me. Next thing I know he’s pinning me down, pressing himself on top of me.” She paused for dramatic effect. “I managed to roll out from under him and ran for the door.”
Jerry virtually dropped his fork. “He didn’t tell me any of this.”
“Do you think he would?”
Jerry was shocked. Dan was capable of odd behavior—his new interest in stalking certainly proved that—but he couldn’t believe his friend was a rapist. On the other hand, what did Dan do with those girls once he caught up with them? He didn’t do anything the night Jerry went with him, but was it always innocent? Jerry remembered the look on Dan’s face during Stalker and a chill ran through his spine. Still, he found all of this hard to comprehend.
“He said the two of you had your differences lately, but I had no idea…”
She gave his hand a squeeze and smiled. “Don’t worry. I don’t blame him. He was drunk that night, and he’s never done anything like that to me before. I doubt he will again. I just wish you weren’t going now, in his time of crisis.”
“So do I,” Jerry said quietly.
“Don’t feel guilty. It’s not your fault. He’s just had a couple shocks to his normal routine. Everyone’s entitled one breakdown.”
Jerry nodded. “You’ve got to do me a favor, and I hope I’m not asking too much. He must be thinking the two of us are abandoning him. Someone’s got to keep an eye on him, and I can’t do it very well from Michigan.” He looked her in the eye. “Will you?”
She winced slightly at his suggestion. He hoped he wasn’t asking her to return to the lion’s den.
She took a moment before saying, “Of course I will. Our relationship’s not totally trashed, you know. There’s still something there.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. He felt there was nothing more to say on the topic. They had reached an understanding, and had, for now, resolved the problem, deciding on a course of action. Anything more was out of his hands.
*3*
Dan watched the eleven o’clock news, lying on the couch, one leg draped over the arm, a fresh beer in his hand. The glow of the television set lit the dark room, bathing everything in its blue luminance. It gave the room an eerie quality, one that Dan would have appreciated had he noticed.
He was waiting for a story by Melissa to air. It got bumped from the six for time, and due to the shuffling, someone else was editing it. She wanted his input on it. He didn’t know whether that was because she was still new to the station and wasn’t comfortable asking Laura’s advice, or if she had something else in mind. Frankly, he hoped for the second alternative. He had been smitten with her from the first day.
During a commercial break Dan looked up at his newest acquisition and admired its smooth, sheen surface reflecting the commercials blaring from his TV. The word “Stalker” stood out at the bottom of the poster in metallic block letters. The artwork consisted of a man’s wrist, half obscured in shadows, clutching a knife held down by his side. The image of a woman appeared on the blade, walking down the dark street, oblivious to the danger behind her. The tip of the knife had an airbrushed glint applied to it.
He had stopped by the Triplex on his way home and his heart sank when he saw that Stalker was no longer on the bill. According to the exhibition license, Mr. Peters had to return the poster when he returned the canisters containing the reels of film. The manager of the Triplex had bypassed this little technicality for him before, but those times he had asked for the poster while the movie was still running.
The box office wasn’t open yet, but Peters let him in when he knocked. “What can I do for you?”
“I know this is a real long shot,” Dan said, “but I was wondering if by chance you might still have a Stalker poster. I noticed outside that you’re not running it anymore.”
“Horror movies never do have a very long run,” Peters explained. “I’ve noticed that there’s a small, but loyal, core that goes to all the scary movies. Most everyone else stays away. Once the groupies have seen the movie, there’s no audience left for it anymore.”
Dan nodded anxiously. He too found that to be the case, but right now he wasn’t really interested in discussing the viewing habits of a fickle public. He wanted to know if he could get his hands on a Stalker poster today.
Peters picked up on this and chuckled inwardly, feeling a bit like Santa Claus. “I thought you might be back, Dan. Come upstairs to my office. I have something for you.”
Within moments he had a crisp, smooth poster in his hands. It was flawless except for a small crease in the lower left corner. He couldn’t thank Mr. Peters enough. He felt like a babbling fool.
Dan felt a little devilish as he smiled and read the fine print in the white band framing the artwork:
“Property of National Screen Corporation Licensed for use only in connection with the exhibition of this picture at the theatre licensing this material. Licensee agrees not to trade, sell, or give it away, or permit others to use it, nor shall licensee be entitled to any credit upon return of this material. This material must be returned or destroyed immediately after use.”
Knowing that it was forbidden to have made it that much sweeter. He had an inkling how Adam and Eve must have felt in the garden.
The news came back on after earning its bread and butter through the commercials. Another girl was missing. A number flashed on the screen along with a full screen picture of the girl, asking people to call if they had any information on her whereabouts. All calls would be kept confidential.
Dan took a long swallow of his beer and wondered if her body would be turning up in a Dumpster soon, slashed beyond recognition. When Sergeant Cameron came on the screen with a soundbite saying it was too early to tell if there was any connection to the recent murders, Dan had a face to go with the man who had called him earlier in the day. Like Jerry, he had nothing new to offer.
He finished his beer and got another, amazed at the amount of money he had spent on it recently. He understood that he really ought to cut down on his drinking, but it numbed the pain so effectively. It also added a few pounds. Thanks to Janet he didn’t really care if he let himself go. He had a defeatist attitude, unconcerned if he ever saw another woman again. But if that was true, why was he sitting around waiting for Melissa’s package to air?
Before he could debate that the phone rang. Jerry was on the other end.
“I’m sitting in a hotel room in East Lansing looking out my window and watching all these college kids terrorize the good citizens of the city,” Jerry said.
“I have good faith that you’ll be able to tame them,” Dan replied, envisioning his friend cooped up. “I hope the University is paying for your room.”
Jerry answered that they were, at least for a couple weeks. He’d have to start canvassing the area soon. He had bought a newspaper and gone through the classifieds, circling the possibilities that looked interesting, and planned to visit some of them first thing in the morning.
Jerry nervously paced his room. Something about Janet’s words rang false, but Dan wasn’t exactly himself lately either. Finally, he couldn’t wait any longer. He took the plunge.
“I had an interesting talk with Janet before I left.”
“You did get a chance to see her. I’m glad,” Dan said, sincerely interested. “What did she have to say?”
“She told me about your last date…” he said, trailing off, hoping Dan would pick up the topic and start filling in the blanks.
“Ah…that disaster,” Dan said with recognition. Laughing, he added, “It wasn’t a pretty sight.”
In his hotel room, hundreds of miles away, Jerry moved to the edge of his bed, pressing the phone as close against his ear as he could. Was Dan laughing? He found it unfathomable that Dan would find any humor in the date if what Janet described actually happened. He supposed it could have been nervous laughter. Either that, or Dan was one hell of a liar.
He hated the way he was using his best reporter tricks on Dan to get information. He only hoped that Dan didn’t recognize what he was doing. “That’s what she said, although she didn’t go into any specifics.”
“And you want me to fill in the details?”
“Well…yeah.”
“I knew it!” Dan replied. “Dinner went okay, and afterwards we moved to the couch. I was hoping for a little make up fun. You know how it is…”
“Yeah.”
Jerry winced. He was piecing it together: Dan, in the throws of sexual excitement, forced himself on a reluctant Janet, though Dan wouldn’t describe it that way. He might say she was holding back because she was mad, but only as a tease. She meant to give in—only he rushed it. He would say he was drunk, not thinking clearly, but from what he had said so far, everything was leading to a simple fact that Jerry couldn’t ignore. Dan had tried to rape Janet.
“But then, just when things start to get interesting,” Dan continued, “she gets up and leaves.”
Jerry, who had been bracing himself for the worse, perked up. “She just left? That was it?”
“That was it,” Dan said. “Why? What did you expect?”
Jerry didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to tell Dan what Janet said and ruin any chance of them getting back together. When he left her things seemed hopeful for reconciliation—Janet was going to watch Dan’s drinking; she said she still cared—and Jerry believed that she was sincere. Now he wasn’t as sure. His gut told him that Dan was telling the truth, and that Janet lied about their date. Why would she do that? For spite? To have me leave town thinking badly about Dan?
“I don’t know,” he said, answering Dan’s question at last. “Janet made it sound more dramatic.”
“That’s a woman for you.”
Jerry, uncomfortable with the subject matter, changed the topic. “So, did the police call you today?”
“Yeah. They wanted to ask me about that night at The Norseman’s and if I saw anything. I said no.”
“Same here. Kinda creepy, isn’t it? I thought at first when they called they were going to ask me about stalking.”
“Did you say anything about that?” Dan asked, alarmed.
“Hell, no.”
“Good.” Dan took a drink of beer, but lost his appetite for it. He needed an answer to his question. “Do you think Janet’s seeing somebody else?”
Jerry flipped the phone to his other ear. “I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure? She might not have come out and said it, but she might have dropped some hints, or acted differently or uncomfortably…” Dan offered.
Although last night he had volunteered to do it, now Jerry didn’t like being a spy. Something weird was going on with those two, something he didn’t want to get involved in. “Why don’t you follow her for a few nights, instead of stalking strangers? You’re good at it, I don’t think she’d catch you, and you might find something out.” Then, realizing what he was saying, and trying to make it sound like a joke, he laughed and added, “It’s cheaper than hiring a private detective.”
The pause on the other end confirmed his fear—Dan took it seriously.
“I don’t know if I could do that,” Dan said slowly, the wheels turning. “It doesn’t seem right.”
“Forget I even mentioned it,” he said, hoping Dan would heed his words.
“Well, it’s not a bad idea. It’s just that it’s crossing the line of doing it for fun and moving into the realm of doing it for a purpose.”
Dan’s doubt made Jerry think that maybe he wouldn’t go through with it, and that was reassuring in a way. Besides, Dan was a grown man—how much longer would he continue this fad? He decided to change the subject again.
“Do I hear Night Beat in the background?” he asked.
“I’m waiting for Melissa’s package. She wanted me to see it.”
“How’s she doing? Fitting in okay?”
Dan told him that she was, and then filled him in on other newsroom gossip. They sounded like old friends again, laughing at the crazy goings-on at the station. It was the first time in the conversation that Jerry felt at ease.
Melissa’s piece came on and they said their quick goodbyes. Dan hung up, feeling somewhat sad, and turned his attention back to the TV.
In East Lansing Jerry followed suit, replacing his receiver in its cradle. The call had been strange, not at all what he expected. He was prepared to beg Dan to get some therapy after his “alleged” attack on Jane
t. He was prepared to get into a nasty fight, possibly ending their friendship. He was prepared to hear denials and lies. He wasn’t prepared to find Dan laughing and joking, so calm and reassuring about that night that Jerry was now positive Janet was lying to him about it. But why would she do that? It made no sense.
Despite this, he hung up having positive feelings about their talk. The air was cleared on some issues, and it felt like he could talk freely to Dan again. He felt good, liberated.
Excited about his teaching position and the prospects it offered, Jerry went to bed, thinking the worst was over.
He was wrong.
*4*
Melissa’s story ended. It was the last piece in the show, running in the spot known as the kicker. The kicker was a humorous or charming feature that gave people a smile and was a pleasant or memorable way to end the show.
Dan thought her story turned out well and picked up the phone to call and congratulate her. He had dialed half her number when he stopped cold, his finger pressing down on the number four, issuing a sustained tone, a sudden realization occurring to him.
Why was he calling her? It was something of a newsroom penchant to watch the show at home, on the phone with another co-worker, critiquing every little thing from story content and camera angles to the anchor’s tie. It was fun, something to share with a special friend. He often did this with Jerry. But was Melissa up to that level yet?
Certainly she’d want to hear his feedback on the story—she was the one who told him about it in the first place after all. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how much weight he put on one simple phone call. The whole scenario was absurd. He wasn’t proposing marriage. Yet, he still felt guilty over calling Melissa, thinking that maybe instead he should be trying Janet again.
Pressures started to build in his head. He didn’t know what to do anymore, and was sick of the whole mess. Endless nights of not sleeping were taking their toll. When he did manage to sleep, nightmares of the train accident, or nightmares of Janet walking out awakened him. Both were unpleasant experiences that left him lying in bed, sweat ridden, looking at the ceiling, contemplating things he had no control over.
