The Gingerbread Boy

by Lori Lapekes

  Catherine was ready to turn away and get dressed when something beneath her car’s windshield wiper caught her eye. Something that hadn’t been there the day before. She squinted down at it. Something small and white. A note glowing in the morning sun.

  She sprinted out of her room, pounded down the stairs, and burst out the back door to her car. A sharp piece of gravel jabbed into her bare foot as she peeled the object out from beneath the wiper, tearing it slightly in the process. Her eyes widened. She recognized a wrinkled, scrawled-on napkin from Looking Glass Café. The penmanship was large and clunky, definitely Daniel’s. She glanced around to see if anyone in the neighborhood was watching her shivering out here in her worn yellow robe. The area seemed deserted, so she scurried to the back porch and settled on the bottom step.

  Lightheadedness overcame her as she opened the napkin. She ached to read the cock-eyed mass of words spilling out at her in poem form and yet she was afraid to read them, too.

  She drew a deep, shuddering breath. In another few minutes, she reasoned, staring blankly at the sky, if she read the napkin right away, she would either feel much better or feel much worse. She held the precious paper close to her heart, closing her eyes, praying for a much better feeling a few moments from now. Seconds ticked off before she was able to force her eyes downward. Then, with the warmth of the sun grazing the top of her head and the chill of the morning breeze coming through her sleeves, she lowered the napkin and read:

  When I feel like this inside

  The darkness I often try to hide

  I become a prisoner, bound and tied –

  Oh what is wrong with me?

  You mean so very much to me

  But wisdom slips away endlessly

  Maybe it’s time to be set free

  My lady, won’t you run?

  I ask you this so you may see

  How wise you’d be to run from me

  I could take you so greedily

  Please lady, won’t you run?

  I long to say something now

  To make you understand somehow

  My words can never be enough

  They’d only hurt you more.

  You deserve love and all the rest

  Your kind heart deserves the best

  But you’re a fragile bird in a collapsing nest

  I’m begging you to run!

  And if you try to stay and fight

  Battle your way for some insight

  It will come to nothing in this bizarre sham,

  Start running now – because I am.

  And there was nothing more. No signature, no explanation, nothing but a coffee stain below the final line.

  Catherine read, and then re-read the poem in a vain attempt to make sense of it. Then the memory of the morning on Chesapeake Bay when she and Daniel struggled in the sand, and how he’d begged her not to run rushed through her mind. Daniel said it was wrong to run, he knew because he’d done it himself. Now he was asking her to run?

  A tear slipped down her cheek. Her hand went limp. Before she knew it, the breeze picked up and tore the napkin from her grasp and carried it away.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Joanne shut the front door behind her and locked it. Catherine stood limply at her side.

  “This is all because of Beth, somehow. It has to be.” Joanne grumbled, straightening her hefty frame. “That woman is evil. If I knew where she was living, I’d go after her with a crucifix and a stake.”

  Catherine sadly shook her head. “I hoped Daniel didn’t believe I’d done those things to Cave Pig. But he must have, deep inside. He’s afraid of me, Joanne. I terrify him, and I can’t say I wouldn’t feel the same way if the shoe were on the other foot.”

  Joanne thrust her hands on her hips. “That’s bull! Daniel knows you’re not a stalker or a lunatic. There’s more to this than meets the eye. I can see something else is going on by the looks on Joey’s face, but I can’t get him to say a word. Dopey southerner.” she muttered under her breath.

  “We’re going to this concert, Cath, and you are going to hold your head high and look ol’ Robin Hood right in the eye, and if he gives you any flack, you throw that crazy shrunken head at him to put him back in his place!”

  Catherine slid her hand into her jacket pocket and curled it around the ghastly doll Daniel had given her on this same porch. Once again, she could feel him pick her up, swing her around and around, and whisper, “I love you” in her ear. Those three little words haunted her. She’d felt he meant them. But now, as she tried to grope her way through this new and inexplicable misery, she wasn’t so sure about anything anymore. Daniel had once questioned time. Why? Maybe she should have pursued his ramblings more. Maybe if she’d paid more attention to his strange “identity crisis,” and worried less about her own problems with Hazel, and with her studies, she’d have seen this coming. Maybe…

  “Snap out of it, Catherine,” came Joanne’s voice as they headed down the steps to the sidewalk. “You have to do this. I’ll be right there with you.”

  “It won’t be easy,” Catherine mumbled gazing back at the section of porch rail she and Daniel had tumbled through. She tightened her grip on the shrunken head.

  “It’ll be about as easy as riding uphill on a flat-tired bike,” Joanne replied, wrapping an arm around her friend’s shoulders, “But you can do it. Do it for Daniel’s own sake, if nothing else. He needs to get a grip.”

  “Jo… what would I do without you?” Catherine asked. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you for all of your support.”

  “Oh that’s easy,” Joanne sighed, “Just give me a wing of the Vanhoofstryver mansion for the summer.”

  “It’s yours.” Catherine said. “You can have the whole thing. I don’t want it.”

  “Then sell it. It’s probably worth a few hundred gazllion bucks.”

  Catherine’s shoulders sagged. “I couldn’t do that, either. Nothing I do seems right these days.”

  Joanne tapped her foot menacingly. “Why don’t you just go upstairs and take one of your two-hour-long scorching baths while I go to the concert alone?”

  Catherine looked at her friend, stunned.

  “It’d beat walking around like you are now, feeling doped out and sorry for yourself,” Joanne continued, hands on her hips. “You have a right to be upset, but you have a right to be mad, too. What is wrong with you, girl? I think I’m more upset about all of this than you are! Doesn’t it make you furious?”

  “It’s hard to be mad at Daniel.” Catherine said. “Maybe not to be mad at Cave-Pig or Beth, but Daniel’s different. He’s…”

  “Stop making excuses! He’s the jerk who treated you like crap two days ago and nearly made you bomb an exam! He had no right to do that!” Joanne’s face reddened, but her voice softened. “Look, Cath, I love Daniel, too, but he’s not perfect. When he does something wrong, let him know it.”

  “You think it’s as easy as that?” Catherine asked her emotional roommate. “I know I should be furious. But there’s something else going on that I can’t quite figure out. Daniel shuffles around like an old man sometimes. He seems more tired than I’ve ever seen him. I have to put things into perspective. I have to figure it all out. Maybe he’s a closet alcoholic, or something worse.”

  “Maybe he’s a closet bi-polar,” Joanne groaned, rolling her eyes. “or a closet junkie. Or a closet cross-dresser who knows? Who cares? It doesn’t give him a right to hurt people. Sometimes it is just best just to ignore all convention and manners, blow up and get it all out. Get mad, girl. Growl!”

  Catherine glanced in surprise at her friend, who was shaking her fist and snarling at her.

  “Like this, Cath! Follow my example. Grrrr!”

  “Okay,” Catherine said, taking in a deep breath and letting it out. She nodded to herself, knitting her eyebrows together in thought. “I am mad. I feel used. Daniel was mean to me and I didn’t deserve it.” She straightened after admitting that, and felt something inside o
f her begin to unwind. Her face reddened as Joanne egged her on, continuing to snarl and growl and show her teeth as they walked, knots of students looking at them strangely as they streamed past down the sidewalk, most probably headed to the concert as well.

  “This is one of the most important days of his life, and I have a right to be there,” Catherine said, “whether or not he thinks I’m some man-hating monster who’ll try to ruin him. He knows better! I’ve never showed him one sign of being like that. And if he does believe Beth, then he’s an idiot! He deserves her!”

  Joanne’s eyes widened in delight. She snarled and shook her fists harder, pawing at the air as Catherine punched the air.

  “This is Daniel! This is how he’s made me feel, and he should get a taste of his own medicine! He’s not going to get away with this. I’m going to find him backstage, and if he refuses to talk to me, if he just gives me one nasty look, wham! This little shrunken head fella is going to bounce off his forehead like a huge walnut and he’ll finally know I mean business!”

  With that, Catherine yanked the doll out of her jacket pocket and flung it on the ground. She was just about to stomp on it when Joanne rushed to physically hold her back.

  “That was g-o-o-d, Cath! Really good. Settle down now, though. You want Daniel to be able to recognize the thing you throw at him.”

  Catherine sighed, her chest rising and falling from gasps.

  “Do you feel better now?” Joanne asked sweetly.

  “Like a popped balloon.” Catherine moaned.

  ****

  Catherine ignored the stares from students she could tell recognized her as Daniel’s girlfriend. At least she tried to ignore them as the people assembling in the soccer stadium field jostled about.

  “They know who you are,” Joanne mumbled, clutching Catherine’s hand. She tugged her through the crowd toward the north end of the stadium where a large stage had been erected. “They’re probably wondering why you’re not backstage with Daniel.”

  “That makes five-thousand and one of us.” Catherine said.

  Pain still fastened around her like a mantle, moving her arms and legs still took conscious effort, yet she knew, somehow, that if she didn’t force herself to move, the fear would paralyze her. Eventually the only direction she’d be able to move in would be backward, slowly at first, then faster, faster, until she was running like a wild woman back to the safety of her house. There she would lie in a near catatonic state in the scorching waters of her bathtub while Daniel’s concert went on without her. As he’d asked.

  Joanne must have sensed her feelings. An abrupt tap on the back startled Catherine back to reality.

  “Don’t let it intimidate you!” Joanne warned, stopping to face her. “I can feel you weakening. Remember girl, you’re mad! You have the right to be, and to do something about it.”

  “You shouldn’t have to babysit me like this.” Catherine moaned, “You could be with Joey yourself right now. You weren’t the one given the cold shoulder, I was.”

  “Joey knows what we’re doing and he thinks we’re right.”

  “Joey knows I’m coming to the show?”

  “If it weren’t for me ranting and raving about what Daniel was doing to you, he wouldn’t even have known Daniel didn’t want you here. Apparently he and Daniel are having their problems, too. It seems Daniel doesn’t confide in him much anymore.”

  Catherine took a deep breath. “Really?” The cloudiness in her soul seemed to clear somewhat, but she didn’t like the reason why…

  …It felt good to know she wasn’t the only one being ostracized.

  All at once a sloppy raindrop splashed across Catherine’s nose. She and Joanne, as well as most of the crowd gazed upward. Overhead, the sky was just gray, but in the southwest thunderheads with lumpy greenish undersides dragged ominously across the horizon. Another raindrop splashed across Catherine’s eyelash, then another on her forearm. A moan rolled throughout the audience.

  “It can’t get rained out!” Catherine said as Joanne began to yank her through the crowd once more. As upset as she was with Daniel, Catherine didn’t want one of the most significant days in his career ruined. The idea of the concert being cancelled raced across her mind as they scurried on, but thankfully, no more raindrops fell, and the crowd began to relax.

  Suddenly Joanne stopped so abruptly Catherine bumped into her. They were next to the western corner of the stage when Catherine looked to see what Joanne was staring at. Repulsion stabbed through her.

  Behind a roped off section of the stage stood a tall, cool blonde in a slinky red dress and thigh-high black boots. A red dress at an outdoor concert at an outdoor stadium? The woman tossed her hair over her shoulders, undulating her body in panther-like movements as she talked to two burly stagehands setting up the equipment.

  Beth. Beth was behind the ropes.

  …The ropes where Catherine had once had every right to be.

  A bitter enlightment washed across Catherine. Was this why Daniel hadn’t wanted her to come to the concert today? Was it because of Beth all along?

  All at once Beth looked in Catherine’s direction. She gazed into Catherine’s eyes a moment, and as the cold, black snake of hate twisted in Catherine’s heart, Beth’s red lips curved into a smile. Then the smile vanished, Beth cocked her chin in the air, and turned to disappear in a forest of amplifiers and sound equipment.

  “At least Daniel wasn’t with her.” Joanne whispered next to Catherine.

  “Maybe not right at this moment!” Catherine cried. She gritted her teeth, picked up the rope and crawled beneath it.

  “Only qualified people are supposed to be behind the ropes…” a stagehand warned.

  “Too bad!” Catherine said, storming across the cigarette littered ground. She dodged equipment, skimmed across nests of wires, and pulled out of people’s grasps as she glanced around for a sign of Beth.

  A security man grasped her arm, she twisted out of it. “Where is she?” Catherine exclaimed. “Where is that woman?”

  Suddenly one man had hold of her left arm, and another grabbed her right.

  “Obviously you have no pass, miss. You’re not staying behind stage, you’re not even staying at this show.” Catherine turned to see a skinny man with great mouth of horse-like teeth bellowing at her, “You’re out of here!”

  “She’s with me.” A voice said softly behind them.

  All three turned to see Daniel leaning against a speaker, one leg casually crossed in front of the other as he chewed on a toothpick, his haunted eyes fixed on the scene before him.

  “It’s okay.” He repeated, “She’s with me.”

  The security men released Catherine’s arms. They stared at her in disdain a few moments, then walked away.

  Catherine stared at Daniel, speechless.

  He looked lost, like a little boy who’d been separated from his family in some ghastly, surreal world he couldn’t escape. She wanted to lower her hand to her purse, to grasp for the doll, to fling it at him with all of her might. Yet, her arm was numb. Like someone else’s arm.

  “Don’t do this.” Daniel whispered, lowering the hand holding the toothpick. “Please… don’t watch this.”

  Catherine tried to choke out that she didn’t understand, that all of this was a big mistake and nothing was making sense to her, yet she said nothing and had to strain to make out his next words.

  “I can’t bear to have you see me fail,” he said, then lowered his head and moved away.

  ****

  “Man,” Joanne gushed, “this crowd seems more excited about seeing The Front than they are about seeing Lift. Just listen to them!”

  Catherine tightened her arms together in front of her, shrinking into as tiny a ball as possible as the audience shrieked and clapped around her, awaiting The Front’s arrival on stage. A rich, frenetic expectation filled the air as a chant began, at first distant and hard to make out, then progressively louder until the stadium was thundering with voices shouting �
��Daniel LaMont and the Front… Daniel LaMont and the Front! The Front, The Front!”

  “Daniel has to love this attention, no matter how strange he’s been acting.” Joanne said in Catherine’s ear.

  Catherine said nothing. She couldn’t get Daniel’s words out her mind. Don’t do this… I can’t bear to have you see me fail. A shiver chased through her.

  What did it mean? She tightened into an even tinier ball, shivering inside. For the first time she wondered whether or not it truly was a mistake to be here.

  And it had nothing to do with Beth.

  She glanced nervously up at the stage a few rows in front of her. The crowd roared on. Two more minutes until the show. Then a raindrop splattered across her forehead.She jerked straight, startled, and another drop splashed across her nose. “Not now.” She whispered. The stage was partially covered by a heavy awning, but could a band perform if it poured? More splashes fell. The crowds chanting fell into a muted garble. Moans diminished into silence as thousands of eyes cast toward the sky.

  Suddenly arms sprung into the air around her, and people bounced on their feet. Flabbergasted, Catherine looked toward the stage.

  There was movement, a blur of color. And there was Daniel, walking in an oddly leisurely manner across the platform, waving. Catherine’s eyebrows knitted together in puzzlement. Why wasn’t he running onto stage as usual? She hadn’t even noticed when the other band members had materialized, but now there they all were, and at least looked genuinely pumped with excitement as the crowd roared. Daniel raised the microphone to his lips and, just like that, the music began. Catherine detected a strain to his voice, but it merely added to the emotional impact of the lyrics to one of The Front’s popular fast songs. Catherine realized that only she, Joanne and Joey knew the extent of the bizarre discord between Daniel and his band. Still, she stood, mesmerized, barely feeling the ground vibrating or Joanne’s excited grip around her wrist.

  There was Daniel. Her Daniel. Her music man up there charming the crowd.

  Sure, a little voice suddenly murmured in her mind. Sure he’s your music man. He didn’t even want you here today, remember? You’re as faceless as the rest of the crowd. It’s time to wake up.