The Gingerbread Boy

by Lori Lapekes

  Willing control, Catherine steadied herself before the next table. A partially covered sheep pancreas lay before her like an alien life form. The ridiculous thought made Catherine crack her first smile in days, maybe enough to get her through one more day. She tightened her grip on her pen and began to write.

  ****

  It was a long, dismal walk to her house in a sickening rain , which chilled Catherine and plastered her hair against her head. Why she hadn’t driven today, or taken the bus, who could tell. MSU had one of the largest, most stretched out campuses in the country.

  Soaked, trembling from the cold, and somehow fighting to keep the books tucked beneath her sweater away from the moisture, Catherine lowered her head and scurried on. Lab had been miserable enough. She hadn’t done well, she knew it. She’d have to try harder. Not let some stupid man get to her. She had no business even thinking of a relationship with one while in school! Had she been insane the last few months? Stark raving mad?

  She would forget Daniel. She would think of things more in her best interest. Things which were in her control. Both Penny and Joanne had advised that and they were right. Maybe she’d known it all along.

  Yes. That segment of her life was all behind her. She couldn’t care less if Daniel fell off a cliff. Not now. No way. Hazel would be thrilled to learn all of this when she recovered. Thrilled! And Catherine was thrilled too.

  Catherine wrinkled her nose as she walked on, bicycles hissing by, staring down at the slippery gray sidewalk sliding beneath her soggy tennis shoes. A strange, earthily rank smell in the air bothered her. It was said the smell came from the worms. Hundreds of them, maybe thousands of the mindless slithering noodles inched across the concrete before her, forcing her to dodge them in disgust. They had repulsed her ever since she and Tony were little kids and used to play in the huge puddles in Mr. Collin’s muck field after a rain. The water seemed deep when you were only seven years old, well past your knees. Catherine used to think the slimy stuff she occasionally stepped on was just extra slippery mud mashing between her toes. In black water, one didn’t know the difference.

  Then Tony took her toward a section of the enormous puddle where the dirt had settled, and pointed out dozens of string-like objects squirming helplessly in the mud beneath the water. To this day, Catherine wasn’t sure she actually had loathed the earthworms themselves, or just the fact that they were drowning.

  Feeling even gloomier, Catherine hastened her pace past the library, around the seemingly lifeless and gray botanical gardens, praying the rain would drown out her thoughts as well as the surrounding campus.

  “Watch where you’re going!” A voice said as someone dodged around her. Startled, Catherine spun to make a quick apology, and then stopped altogether at the sight of the person.

  Of all people today, she had to barge into Beth.

  Beth stopped, too, and stood glaring at her beneath a polka-dot umbrella.

  “You’re losing it, aren’t you Sealey,” she said. “Ever since Daniel disappeared.”

  Catherine rolled her eyes and turned to walk on.

  The rain came down harder.

  “You just can’t admit I was right, can you?” Beth called after her.

  Catherine stopped and turned slowly around to gaze at the smug roommate who’d been such constant grief over the past year.

  Beth must have been feeling even nastier and more cantankerous than usual. Her insults would not stop.

  “No matter where Daniel is, people will still know you as ‘sleazy Sealey,’ It’s hard to ditch a nickname especially one that rhymes. It’s embarrassing to live with you. Next thing you know, your antics will be on the cover of the ‘Black Sheep’,” she added, referring to the off-color college newspaper Catherine couldn’t stand.

  Catherine’s jaw tightened as she struggled to overcome the woman’s insults. Her cheeks burned and the weight of the books in her backpack became unbearable.

  “What is the matter with you, Sealey?” Beth asked. “Feeling the backlash from being used? Most people believe you like it.”

  That did it. “Beth Shaker, you are the most detestable person I have ever known,” she said, scrunching her books tightly in her arms. “You think I was used? Look at you! You usually have three or four ‘so-called’ boyfriends at a time. What do they want with you but free rides in a luxury car and the possibility of getting at your money? You’re the one I’m embarrassed to live with. I should have left you in the hallway where Cave Pig could have found you that night!”

  Beth’s face drained of color. She stared at Catherine, mute. Her eyelashes began to bat in belated reaction to the sting. At last the paleness left her face and a hideous crimson color settled in.

  “At least my men don’t run away from me and hide,” Beth seethed, her umbrella cocked sideways enough so that rain streaked across one side of her face. “Actually, it’s no wonder Daniel did that to you he has so much more going for him than what a mousy little wretch like you could offer. I don’t blame him one bit for running, Catherine. Running into the arms of someone who can handle him. Someone like me!”

  Catherine’s jaw fell. “What?”

  Beth crossed her arms. “Daniel needs a woman who’ll treat him like a man. He needs a true woman. Like me.”

  Catherine’s heart slammed against her chest. She took several steps until she was standing directly in front of her roommate, glaring at her eye to eye. Several passersby stared curiously at the confrontation, craning their necks to hear.

  “Daniel may be hard to understand,” Catherine said in barely a whisper,” but he would never, ever go for a whore like you.”

  Beth’s jaw dropped. Her eyes bulged. She drew back her hand and slapped Catherine with a sound so sharp it echoed across campus.

  Students slowed to watch. Many stopped altogether.

  Catherine took a long, deep breath. She brought her hand up to trace her stinging cheek. There was complete, utter silence. Even the sound of the rain muffled into insignificance.

  Weeks of pain and frustration were compressed into the fist that sent Beth sprawling into the mud next to the sidewalk. Her polka dot umbrella spun several feet away and the rain beat down on her head like seaweed plastered over a rock. Catherine grinned slightly as she looked up, and noticed that the huge “Sparty” statue, the MSU mascot of a Spartan warrior carrying his helmet seemed to be gazing down in contempt at Beth as well.

  “You belong down there!” Catherine cried, “Down there with the worms!”

  Then she spun around, pushed through the laughing crowd, and stomped away.

  ****

  It took several hours before Catherine could go home and stand before her own doorway. She stood rigid, staring at the doorknob with disdain. Beth lived in that house. That nauseating woman. Catherine wondered what horrors awaited her. Finally, dragging in a deep breath, determined to master her temper and handle whatever lay ahead with more control this time, she twisted the doorknob and walked in.

  A rainstorm of streamers and confetti flooded the air.

  “Hooray!” Joanne shouted before her, bouncing in delight. She continued to shower Catherine with party paraphernalia from a dish in her hand. Overhead, a huge, crudely painted banner declared, in twelve-inch letters, “SHE’S GONE!” Beneath it, on the sideboard, sat a large cake decorated with a familiar white dog doing a happy dance, his nose tipped high in the air. A bottle of wine and two goblets rested next to it. Beyond that, Penny sat alone on the couch with her hands folded between her knees, looking abandoned.

  “What’s going on?” Catherine asked. She set her books on an end table and peeled off her jacket, eyes wide in astonishment.

  Joanne continued to fling confetti at Catherine until the dish was emptied. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks rosy from excitement. She clasped her hands together in delight.

  “Beth’s gone,” she giggled deliriously. “A couple of guy friends of hers came over a few hours ago and cleaned out all of her stuff. They left w
ithout a word even to Penny. She moved, Catherine. The witch is finally gone!”

  Catherine’s mind spun.

  “I don’t know what made her do it and I don’t even care,” Joanne continued, “but she’s out of our lives at last. It may have taken most of the school year, but she’s finally, utterly, irreversibly GONE.”

  Catherine glanced over Joanne’s shoulder to where Penny still sat on the couch, staring blankly in front of her.

  “Penny will come around,” Joanne said, taking Catherine’s arm leading her toward the wine. She lowered her voice. “She might even morph into a real human being, not just Beth’s ‘yes-yes’ android.”

  Catherine attempted a smile. That much was reassuring. She’d always thought there might be a real person buried inside of Penny.

  “Well? Aren’t you ecstatic?” Joanne cried. “Beth won’t be tormenting you any more! Moving out is the first decent thing she’s done since she moved in.”

  A dozen emotions clashed inside of Catherine, making it impossible to think. Yes. Of course she was glad Beth was gone! It should have made her ecstatic. Yet she almost felt guilty. Guilty, and confused over why she felt that way.

  “It’s my fault Beth moved out,” she finally said, accepting a small glass of wine Joanne handed her. “I think I did it, Jo. She left because of me”

  Joanne’s eyebrows knitted together. “What?”

  “I knocked her on her butt in the mud this morning in front of the Sparty statue.

  Joanne’s eyes grew as big as donuts. Beyond, Catherine noticed Penny’s head lift a little.

  Catherine sighed. “She deserved it. She was on me like a bad smell. I couldn’t take it any more. She implied that she knew where Daniel was, and that she was the one keeping him busy.”

  Joanne groaned. “I sure hope you knocked out a few teeth and gave her the fat lips she’s always wanted! If you hadn’t done it, sooner or later I would have.” She wiggled her rear end speculatively. “Just one slam from my wide world of sports would have sent her out the front door without ever opening it.” Finally, calming, she looked deep into Catherine’s eyes. “You don’t actually believe what she implied about Daniel, do you?”

  “Oh no,” Catherine rushed to say. “That’s ludicrous. It was just one final, desperate stab.”

  Joanne peered closely at her. “Are you sure you don’t believe it?”

  “Positive.”

  “Well then, good! Have a sip of bubbly. Let’s celebrate!”

  “Would you mind if I take a shower first?” Catherine asked. “I feel pretty gross – caught in the rain earlier and all.”

  Joanne raised a finger and wagged it in Catherine’s face. “Just as long as it’s not one of those depression showers or baths.”

  “No not this time. I’m recovering, Joanne. I am.”

  “Okay then. See you soon.”

  Catherine smiled. “Thanks. This little party is a treat. You’re a good friend, Jo.”

  “Yeah, I know. It’s my nature.”

  Catherine grinned convincingly at her friend, then scurried up the stairway to her bedroom and fell face first on her bed, sobbing quietly into the sheets.

  She hadn’t believed what Beth had said. She was merely crying for joy that Beth was gone, and thankful for having such a cherished friend as Joanne. That was all the tears were about.

  Of course she hadn’t believed Beth’s insinuations. The insinuations were absurd.

  Ridiculous.

  Preposterous!

  No matter where Daniel was, and what he was doing, he would never, ever fall for someone as evil and conniving as Beth Shaker. Catherine turned over and stared at the ceiling, wiping her eyes. She had a shower to take. A celebration to attend.

  Then came the voice in her ear. Men are vipers, Catherine, vipers.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The screams came from all directions. Daniel pressed deeper into the depths of the jungle, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

  Would they find him?

  He was not afraid of spirits when his mother and father were nearby, but they were far from him now. He had no idea where they were – he had no idea where he was.

  He prayed the sun would rise soon, casting golden beams of light across the tree-choked, mountain horizon.

  He knew spirits couldn’t get you in the light.

  The screaming became louder. Nearer. It swelled in Daniel’s ears, overpowering every other horror in the surrounding jungle. He shrank into himself, pinching his eyes shut. Clasping his arms around his knees, he froze into a tiny ball beneath the foliage. He scarcely dared breathe, lest they hear him. If he somehow came out of this, he would never run again, never. He’d face up to his troubles like a man.

  And his father would be proud.

  If he somehow came out of this.

  The screaming was directly overhead now.

  Wailing, Daniel sprang up. He ran blindly, rocketing through a labyrinth of leaves and vines until he burst into a small clearing at the edge of the jungle. He scanned the scene before him with bulging eyes.

  Nowhere to hide, nowhere to…

  The screaming was right behind him now.

  Rooted to his spot, Daniel slowly turned his head…

  …to see two scaly-faced spirits soaring at him, wicked-eyed monsters with wide-open, hooked mouths.

  Daniel shut his eyes and collapsed.

  And then glorious light brightened the inside of his eyelids, and the screaming disappeared.

  Silence. Heart still racing, Daniel slowly opened his eyes.

  A pair of blue-jean clad legs came into focus before him.

  “Dad? Is that you?” Daniel asked weakly.

  “Where have you been?” asked a male voice, its tone tinged with panic.

  Daniel’s eyes widened. The mountains and jungles melted away as he tilted his head upward to travel over the length of a long, thin body in front of him. Finally the man’s face came into view.

  Joey.

  Joey had turned the lights on in the house.

  Joey flung his arms in the air, spun in a circle. “What is this mess? What have you done to yourself, Daniel? You look like death warmed over.”

  Without giving Daniel a chance to reply, Joey bent down and grasped a beer can lying on the carpet. He pushed it into Daniel’s face. “Since when have you started drinking? These cans are everywhere! What is wrong with you?”

  The words across the beer can came slowly into focus, seeming a foot high before Daniel’s eyes.

  “Did you realize that ‘Stroh’s’ spelled backward is ‘shorts’?” he asked softly.

  Joey’s eyes rounded. Enraged, he straightened, flung back his arm and hurtled the can against the living room wall. Some remaining fluid splattered out of the can to dribble like tears across the plaster.

  “I was relieved to find you weren’t a demon coming to get me,” Daniel said loosely, “Now I’m not so sure what you are.”

  Joey reached down, grasped Daniel’s hands, and pulled him to his feet. Staggering, Daniel wilted back against the wall, his eyes vacant. Joey stood back and stared at Daniel in exasperation.

  “What time is it?” Daniel mumbled.

  Joey glanced at his watch. “Almost ten o’clock at night. How long have you been home? How long have you…” suddenly he stopped, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. When he continued, his voice was calmer.

  “What happened to you?”

  Still collapsed against the wall, Daniel looked past Joey to the wet splatter mark from the beer. He gestured toward it. “What do those splatter marks on the wall remind you of?”

  Confused, Joey turned to look. He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s just a blob. What does it look like to you?”

  Daniel paused before replying. Darkness passed over his eyes.

  “It looks like a car,” Daniel replied. “A sleek, sporty car. Beautiful to look at, but useless. It’s got a failing transmission. No one can repair it.”

&nb
sp; Joey’s eyebrows furrowed as Daniel continued.

  “You have to re-name the band,” Daniel said. “Make it just The Front. Putting my name in it always seemed too pompous, anyway. And you should convince Burr-Head to sing. He’s got a great voice when he opens up. People will like him.”

  Joey’s face paled.

  “Don’t give up on the band, Joey. We all have the same dreams. They can still be made into reality. The world needs you.” He took a breath. “I’d — I’d like for you to watch Yoo-Hoo for me, too. You’re the only one he trusts, beside mom and Catherine.”

  Joey grasped a chair for balance. “Mowgli. Tell me you’ve decided to move back to South America. Tell me that’s what this is all about.”

  Daniel sighed, his eyes lowering to the floor. It seemed hours before he regained enough composure to look back into Joey’s eyes.

  “Promise me that what I’m about to tell you won’t leave this room?”

  “I don’t like this…”

  “Please promise? Especially don’t tell Catherine. ”

  Joey nodded reluctantly.

  Somehow Daniel was able to condense thousands of words worth of pain, helplessness, fear and frustration into one tiny sentence.

  “I’m dying, and I don’t know what to do.”

  Joey stared hard at Daniel. “You’re always jerking me around. This isn’t one of your more clever jokes.”

  “I’m not joking.”

  “You are joking.”

  The look in Daniel’s eyes said otherwise.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The lawn in front of the Capital shimmered with protest signs reflecting in the sun. The signs protested anything from real fur coats and rodeos to the names of companies that still used research animals to test their products. The crowd was peaceful, as most animal rights groups were, yet a powerful feeling of injustice predominated. As animal lovers, Joanne and Catherine attended the rally to hear speeches on new developments for the humane treatment of animals, speeches that usually put a sour feeling in the pit of Catherine’s stomach. In her career, people often had no option but to use research animals for study. It was a fact the students had to face.