Play of Light

by Debra Doxer

  With the unusually warm temperatures, school was a total loss. Everyone wanted out of the steamy building. Teachers were at their wit’s end trying to keep students in line. When the last bell finally rang, we all burst outside like rockets launching into space. Of course, I ran to the beach. It was packed with people, all in their swimsuits with their pale winter skin on display, but Spencer didn’t show. With the crowd there this afternoon, I wasn’t really surprised.

  When I got home, I did my homework out on the back patio, soaking up the sun, happy to be rid of the coats and sweaters I’d worn for months. I had just finished my algebra problems when I heard Dad bang into the house yelling. Pushing the slider open farther, I leaned in to listen.

  “He barreled through the red light. So I pulled him over and gave him a ticket like I would anyone else.”

  I peeked inside and caught glimpses of my father as he moved between the hallway and the living room, gesturing wildly, his face flushed red.

  “Tom told me to rip it up. Can you believe that shit? Pierce can’t even get a goddamned traffic ticket in this town.”

  “You have to calm down, Sam.” My mother put her hand on his arm, but he shrugged her off. “Listen to me,” she said. “I’m telling you to stop this. You shouldn’t have threatened him last week, and if Tom says to rip up the ticket, then just do it. I don’t want any trouble.”

  “Thanks for your support,” he snapped back at her. The venom in his voice surprised me. I’d never heard my dad talk that way, and I wondered why he threatened Jackson Pierce last week. This was the first I’d heard of that. And why would his chief tell him to rip up a traffic ticket?

  “Fine.” Mom threw down the dishtowel she’d been holding. “Don’t listen to me or anyone else. Go on a personal vendetta against him. Sabotage your career. That sounds like a genius idea.” She stormed back into the kitchen, saw me standing by the door, and hollered at me, “Have you finished your homework, Sarah?”

  My mouth sealed shut at her tone. I only nodded.

  “Then go wash up for dinner.” Her expression was tight as she started banging cabinet doors and pulling out dishes.

  Dad disappeared upstairs as Emma came in from wherever she’d spent the afternoon. Later, at dinner, Mom and Dad were quiet and I was too, more than a little unsettled by what I’d overheard. Emma, of course, was oblivious, telling us who she’d run into at the beach, and all about a new store that opened up downtown.

  After we finished eating, Emma and I were helping Mom wash the dishes when Dad came in and said, “It’s too late anyway.”

  We all paused to look at him.

  “Ripping it up won’t matter. I already put it in the system.”

  “Sam.” Mom said his name in exasperation.

  “It’s just a ticket,” he said quietly. Then he left the room.

  “What was that about?” Emma asked Mom as she began clearing the dishes.

  “Nothing,” she replied flatly, her demeanor making it clear that questions weren’t welcome.

  Based on the sour mood in the house, I missed another opportunity to tell my parents about Spencer. I left the kitchen and then went out the front door, walking through the yard, down the block and out onto the beach. It seemed that Dad was constantly fighting his conscience when it came to Jackson Pierce, the same way I was fighting mine with Jackson’s nephew.

  The sun had already disappeared below the horizon, and the sky was turning from pink to purple as I walked swiftly through the lingering warmth of the day. I rounded the last corner, hoping Spencer would be there tonight, because I really needed to know he was okay.

  Holding my breath as I walked up onto the dunes, I didn’t release it until I spotted him sitting there. Exhaling, feeling my smile forming, I took him in. Every time I saw him, my whole body felt jolted as if he exuded some power over me. After the day we spent together yesterday, the impact was even stronger. But as I got closer to him, I hesitated, noticing the details.

  Spencer had a mostly empty bottle in his hand. His cargo shorts were stained with something I was afraid to recognize, although it looked like blood. When I moved in closer, I realized the same dark spots dotted his shirt too. Oh no.

  I ran the remaining distance and leaned down to push the hair out of his face. His skin looked mottled and swollen. When my fingers lightly grazed a bruise on his forehead, his eyes opened wider. It took them a moment to focus, but when they found me they were bloodshot and red-rimmed, as if he’d been crying. They were a darker shade of brown than I’d ever seen them before.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  He had no reaction at first. Then he laughed softly before he started coughing. When he couldn’t seem to stop, I wedged an arm behind his back and helped him sit up straighter. The bottle fell from his fingers, and the remaining liquid slowly dripped out onto the sand.

  When the coughing finally stopped, he looked at me. “Did I ever tell you that when I first came here, I had a dream that my parents were calling out to me. I could hear their voices carrying over the waves.”

  His voice sounded raw as if he’d strained it from yelling, and his eyes were unfocused. He didn’t seem to be here at all.

  “I wish I could float up into the sky or swim across the entire ocean,” he said. “Then I could do anything, go anywhere. If I could swim across the ocean, I wonder if everything I’ve loved and lost would be waiting for me on the other side.”

  His expression was filled with so much pain. What in the world had happened? “Spencer . . .”

  “My uncle killed him.”

  “What?” I stared at him, trying to get him to look at me.

  “Astro,” he said, wincing.

  “Your uncle killed Astro?” I hoped I hadn’t heard him right. But when he said nothing else, I knew I had. My jaw dropped. I sank down onto the sand beside him.

  Spencer swallowed hard and I reached out for his hand, clutching it in mine. He didn’t pull away. He didn’t move at all as he spoke again. “He came home angry tonight, like a fucking volcano ready to erupt. I knew enough to stay away from him, but Astro started barking and he wouldn’t stop. I don’t know what got into him. He never barked like that. I held his muzzle closed, but he wouldn’t cut it out. Uncle Jackson was yelling at me to keep him quiet. Finally, I had no choice but to take him outside. When we walked through the living room, Astro jumped out of my arms, ran right over to my uncle, and started yapping.”

  Spencer paused, squeezing his eyes shut, as if the rest was too hard to even think about. I pulled his hand closer to me, trying to give him strength. I was about to tell him that he didn’t have to finish when he opened his eyes again. “He picked Astro up by his hind legs,” Spencer said softly. “Swung him around and bashed his head against the wall.”

  I gasped and Spencer broke down. His shoulders shook as tears streamed over his cheeks. “Then he dropped him on the floor, and Astro didn’t get up. He didn’t move.” Spencer started rocking back and forth.

  “Oh God. I’m so sorry,” I whispered as I pulled him to me, putting my arms around him and holding him as tightly as I could. He let me, wrapping his arms around my back and gripping me to him. We cried together, and I was crying for everything he’d gone through. I thought of how calm and controlled he always looked on the outside, compared to how broken he was inside. It must have taken so much work to pretend the way he did all the time.

  After a while, he pulled away, sniffling and wiping at his cheeks. “I have to bury him.”

  I shook my head. “You can’t go back there to get him.”

  Rubbing his palms into his eyes, he said, “I didn’t leave him there. You think I’d leave him there?” Then he pointed to the sand behind him where his coat was rolled up in a ball.

  My hand went to my mouth. He had Astro wrapped in there? As I glanced between him and the coat, my stomach lurched at what I knew was inside. Beside me, Spencer’s eyes took on a faraway look again as his finger came up to touch a gash in his lip, feelin
g it curiously, like he had forgotten he’d been hurt tonight too.

  There was more to it than he was saying. Based on the condition of his face, there had to be more. My throat worked against the brick forming inside it. “You’re coming back to my house,” I told him. “My dad will know what to do.”

  A muscle in his cheek ticked as he clenched his jaw. “I can’t.”

  “It’s enough, Spencer. You can’t go back there. What if—”

  “Sarah,” he said, interrupting me. “Maybe I could talk to your dad here? My uncle wouldn’t like me being in your house.”

  “Who cares what he thinks? Just come with me. Please.”

  “Here,” he said stubbornly. “Bring him here. Bring a shovel back with you too.”

  I closed my eyes, knowing why he wanted the shovel. “Spencer.” I realized he wasn’t thinking clearly and wondered if he was in shock.

  His expression was hard. He wasn’t changing his mind.

  “You’ll wait?” I asked, having no choice but to leave him here.

  “I’ll wait.”

  “Promise me. You have to promise me you’ll wait.” I had this awful feeling that he was going to take off the minute I left. “I know whatever happens next will be hard,” I said as I took his hand in mine again. “But it can’t be harder than this.”

  Then I almost confessed my feelings to him. I nearly said I love you because it was the truth, and he looked like he needed to hear it from someone tonight. I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, he squeezed my hand and said, “I promise. I’ll wait.”

  His promise stopped me. That was what I needed to hear. This wasn’t the time to reveal my feelings to him. There would be a better time. Nodding, I said, “I’ll be right back.” Then I ran as fast as I could all the way home.

  My thoughts were racing and my muscles burned by the time I barreled into the house. “Dad!” I yelled as I ran through the living room, landing in the den completely out of breath. Mom and Dad looked up from the television, shocked by my abrupt entrance. “It’s Spencer. Something terrible happened. He’s on the beach. I told him I’d bring you. You have to help him.”

  Dad’s expression was alert and concerned while Mom’s eyes went wide.

  “I’ve been wanting to tell you, but he wouldn’t let me.” I gulped in some air. “His uncle hits him. And tonight he killed Spencer’s dog right in front of him. He can’t go back there. He’s waiting on the beach. We have to go there now.” Then I tugged on Dad’s arm to pull him up.

  “Wait,” Mom said, putting her hand on Dad’s other arm.

  He turned to look at her. “Don’t tell me not to help the boy, Maggie.” His stern voice held a warning.

  She said nothing more as she silently took her hand back. Then Dad and I ran out of the house. We jumped into the cruiser and drove the short distance back to the beach. I didn’t forget the shovel he asked for, I just wanted to get to him before he changed his mind, and I figured Dad would know what to do with Astro better than Spencer would right now.

  He parked by the footpath and followed me down to the dunes. My heart was thundering in my chest as we rounded the corner. I didn’t panic when I couldn’t spot him right away. And I was still pushing the anxiety down when I called his name and heard nothing in response. I didn’t let the panic set in until I stood on the sand right where I’d left him and saw no sign of either Spencer or his bundled coat.

  “Where is he?” Dad asked from behind me.

  My vision blurred with knowing tears when I turned to him. “He left. He promised he’d wait, but he left. We have to find him.” I didn’t know if he would go back home, but a fearful voice inside me said that eventually he would.

  “He had his dog with him, Dad.” My voice wobbled. “He’s walking around with his dead dog wrapped up in his coat.”

  My father looked up and down the beach. It was full night now, but there was a half moon in the sky surrounded by stars, giving off enough light to see clearly. He took my hand. “Let’s start looking.”

  We scoured the dunes and the rocky outcrops that divided different sections of the beach. We searched everywhere, but there was no sign of Spencer. Dread clawed at me as I yelled his name until my throat was raw.

  “It’s time for you to go home,” Dad said after we’d covered the same area of beach several times.

  I felt desperate. “Let’s go to his house. Maybe he went back there.”

  He shook his head. “You’re not going to his house.”

  My fingers pulled at his shirt. “But—”

  “Hush, Sarah. I’m going to keep looking, but you’re going home now.” His hands were on my shoulders and his gaze was clear and steady. He was concerned too. I could see that.

  “Will you go to his house?” I asked.

  Dad turned me toward the footpath and began to nudge me forward. “There might be better options.”

  “Like what?”

  He didn’t answer, just gestured for me to keep moving. Wondering what he meant, I wrung my hands during the quick ride home. Mom met us at the door and Dad began to explain that we couldn’t find Spencer. I was standing at the foot of the stairs listening when Mom turned to me. “It’s late. Go up and change for bed.”

  It was an outrageous suggestion. There was no way I was doing that. When I didn’t move, Dad looked at me and agreed with her. “Go on.”

  “But, Dad—”

  “Now, Sarah,” he said in a voice that was quiet but broached no argument. Reluctantly, I turned and trudged up the steps, knowing it was going to be a very long night. I was relieved that my parents knew now; keeping Spencer’s secret had been eating away at me for too long. But there would be no chance of sleep for me until I knew he was okay.

  Once in my room, I automatically looked out the window toward Spencer’s house. His bedroom was dark.

  My mother’s raised voice took my attention away from the window. I walked over to the door where I could hear everything they were saying.

  “You can’t go to the station and tell them Jackson Pierce beats his nephew. They either won’t believe you or they won’t care. You know that.”

  “I could go straight to Anne Dougherty. She wouldn’t leave the boy in that situation if she knew.”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Mom said.

  “I should go now, in case he went back home. Sarah might have to come with me to tell Anne what she knows.”

  Anne Dougherty was a social worker here in town. More than anything I wanted to help. I would do everything I could. I was about to go down and tell them that when Mom’s angry voice stopped me.

  “You’ve got to be kidding. I don’t want Sarah anywhere near this. How could you even suggest that?”

  “Maggie,” Dad said. Then their voices got lower as they moved away from the hallway. I couldn’t hear them anymore and I suspected they were still talking about me.

  Standing by my bedroom door, ready to appear when Dad called me, I heard footsteps coming back and the familiar sound of Dad picking his keys up off the front hall table. When they still didn’t call for me, I knew Mom had won the argument.

  Frustration and an all-too-familiar feeling of helplessness when it came to Spencer gripped me. Dad wanted me to go, but he gave in to Mom like he always did. She got him to back down every time. But this was different. This wasn’t Jackson Pierce getting a traffic ticket. This was so much worse, and we had to do everything we could to stop it. I was ready to go down there and argue my point no matter how much trouble it got me into, when Mom called Dad away from the door and back into the kitchen.

  At that moment, I decided to sneak outside while they were talking in the other room. Quietly, I slipped out the front door and made my way over the lawn. Then I got into the back of Dad’s cruiser, pulling the car door closed softly behind me before I crouched down low on the floor. When Dad got to Mrs. Dougherty’s house and discovered I was with him, he would have no choice but to let me talk to her, or I would start telling her everythi
ng on my own.

  It felt like I was cooking as I lay curled up on the floor. The sun had spent the day beating down on the car, and the heat had stayed trapped inside. I figured only ten minutes or so had passed before I finally risked poking my head up to get some air. Just as I did, I spotted Dad coming out the front door. Sucking in a breath, I ducked back down again.

  The car shifted and then sank lower as he got inside and slammed the door closed. Then the motor started, and we moved backward out of the driveway. Peering up, I could see the night sky through the side window. Dad had the air-conditioning on, the cool air tickling my moist back as it traveled down from the front vents. My body shifted slightly with each turn.

  As we traveled toward our destination, more knots formed in my gut. I hoped Dad wouldn’t be too mad when he discovered me here. But I knew he would understand. We were too much alike. If our places were reversed, he would do the exact same thing to help someone he cared about. He would do the right thing, the way he always taught us to do.

  When the cruiser came to a stop, I craned my neck up and risked a peek out the window to get my bearings. We were at a traffic light on the service road that ran beside Route 6. As I began to crouch down again, I heard the rumble of a motor approaching. It grew louder until it was idling beside us. I could see the top of a truck bed through the window. Craning my neck up, I noticed its red color and the thick silver stripe that ran across its side. I froze, and that was when the world exploded around me.

  It started as a loud bang before shards of glass rained into the car. My face and chest stung as I fell back into the door, the armrest digging into my spine. From the corner of my eye, I saw Dad’s head jerk to the side before he disappeared from view. Then the red truck gunned its motor and took a sharp turn, racing away from us.

  I looked down at the seat and all the tiny pieces of broken glass. Then wet, oozing warmth dripped onto my shirt. It was coming from my face. Using my forearm to wipe it away, I called out to Dad. But I couldn’t hear anything because my ears were ringing. My breath came in short, labored gasps as I leaned up over the front seat and looked down.