The Wild Zone

by Joy Fielding

  “Really? What are you studying?”

  “Philosophy.”

  “Which I guess explains the ‘biology is destiny’ observation,” she remarked.

  His turn to smile. So, she’d understood him after all. “Actually, I’m working on my PhD.”

  “Now I really am impressed. Where? The University of Miami?”

  “Princeton.”

  “Wow.”

  “Does that mean you’ll reconsider sleeping with me?” he asked.

  “Not a chance.”

  “Didn’t think so.”

  Again, she laughed. Again the lovely dimples that creased her pale skin. “But that was cute. You get points for that.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So seriously, you’re a student?”

  “Seriously, I’m a very serious student,” he said. “Or I was. I’m taking a bit of a break.”

  “For the summer, you mean?”

  “I’m not sure how long.”

  “Sounds like that’s not all you’re not sure of.”

  Will tried to make his mind a blank. The woman sitting across from him had an uncanny knack for being able to read his thoughts. He glanced toward the bar, saw Jeff staring back at him through hooded eyes as Tom leaned over to whisper something in his ear.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be presumptuous,” Suzy said.

  “You weren’t.”

  “You’re a bit of a conundrum, aren’t you?”

  “A conundrum, no less.” Will laughed, flattered in spite of himself. “My mother always said I was an open book.” The waitress approached with his beer.

  “Mothers don’t always know their children very well.”

  Will lifted his glass. Clicked it against hers. “I’ll drink to that.”

  They each took a sip, her knuckles accidentally brushing against his as they lowered their glasses to the table. A sudden surge of electricity charged through Will’s fingers, and his hands shook. He lowered them to his lap to keep her from noticing.

  “So, what brings you down to Miami?” she asked.

  “I’m visiting my brother.”

  “That’s nice. Is he here tonight?” She glanced toward the bar.

  Will nodded.

  “Was he part of the bet?”

  “The instigator,” Will allowed.

  Suzy studied the crowd milling around the bar. “Let me guess. The good-looking one in the black shirt?”

  “That’s him.” Of course she’d notice Jeff, Will thought, trying not to feel jealous. Of course she’d think he was handsome. How could she not? Without Kristin’s prompting, she’d no doubt have selected him. “Actually, we’re only half brothers. That’s why we don’t look very much alike.”

  “Oh, I think I see a family resemblance,” she said, her eyes lingering on Jeff’s profile perhaps a beat too long.

  “I don’t have his muscles,” Will said, acknowledging the obvious.

  “And I’m betting he doesn’t have your brains,” she countered.

  Will felt a flush of pride.

  “What does he do, your brother?”

  Will closed his eyes, his pride collapsing around him like a broken umbrella. What was it they said—pride goeth before a fall? “Regretting your choice already?” he asked, then immediately wished he hadn’t. “Sorry, that must have sounded incredibly petulant.”

  “‘Incredibly petulant’?” she repeated. “That’s quite a mouthful.”

  “I’m sorry,” Will said again.

  “I was just trying to make conversation, Will. You seemed a little uncomfortable talking about yourself.”

  “My brother’s a personal trainer,” Will said, answering her earlier question.

  Suzy nodded, her eyes slowly drifting back toward Jeff, as if pulled there by a magnet.

  “He lives with the bartender,” Will added.

  “I assume we’re talking about the gorgeous blond and not the fat guy with the gold chains.”

  Will laughed. “Actually, that’s the owner.”

  “They make a very attractive couple,” Suzy said. “Your brother and the bartender.”

  “Yeah, they do.”

  “She seems very nice.”

  “She is.”

  The conversation came to a halt. Suzy returned her attention to the drink in her hand.

  “Kristin said you just moved here from Fort Myers,” Will said after several uncomfortable seconds.

  “Kristin?”

  “Jeff’s girlfriend.”

  “Jeff?”

  “My brother,” Will qualified. What was the matter with him? Had he always been so totally inept with women? No wonder Amy had dumped him.

  “The bartender and the bodybuilder,” Suzy stated.

  “Personal trainer,” Will said, then almost kicked himself. Was he a complete idiot? “So what prompted the move from Fort Myers?” he asked.

  “Have you ever been there?” she asked, as if this was answer enough.

  “No.”

  “I guess it’s not a bad place. The people are certainly nice enough. It was just time for a change.” She shrugged, took another sip of her martini.

  “A change from what?”

  “Everything.”

  “What did you do in Fort Myers?”

  “Worked in a bank. I was an assistant manager.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  “Let’s say it was exactly as interesting as it sounds.”

  Will laughed, felt his body genuinely beginning to relax, as if he’d released his belt a notch. “Did you get transferred here?”

  “No. Believe me, the last thing I ever want to see is the inside of another bank. Unless, of course, I’m depositing money.”

  “So, where are you working now?” Will asked.

  “I’m not. I’m kind of like you, I guess. Taking the summer off.”

  “And then what?”

  “Haven’t decided. You?”

  “Me?”

  “What happens when the summer’s over?” she asked. “Must be a little crowded at your brother’s.”

  All roads lead back to Jeff, Will thought. “A little. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go back to school. Maybe I’ll go to Europe. I’ve always wanted to see Germany.”

  “Why Germany?”

  “My thesis—it’s about this German philosopher. . . . Martin Heidegger.”

  “Don’t think I’ve ever heard of him.”

  “Not too many people have. He writes about death and dying.”

  “Yeah, they kind of go together.” She smiled. “Sounds a little depressing.”

  “People always say that. But it isn’t really. I mean, death is a fact of life. We’re all going to die sooner or later.”

  “They teach you that at Princeton? Because if they do, I’m sure as hell not going there.”

  Will laughed. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  “Are we talking about death now or Princeton?”

  “Do you believe in God?” he asked, thinking of all the earnest undergraduate discussions he’d had on the subject, the arguments he’d had with Amy. . . .

  Suzy shook her head. “No.”

  “You sound very sure.”

  “You seem surprised.”

  “I guess I am. Most people are more circumspect.”

  “Circumspect?”

  “Cautious,” he said, although he sensed she knew exactly what he meant. “Guarded. They hedge their bets, say they don’t know, that they’d like to believe, or that they believe in some sort of a higher power, whether you want to call it God or a life force. . . .”

  “I guess I’ve never been very good at circumspect.” Her eyes drifted toward the large ceiling fan whirring overhead.

  “You look like you have very deep thoughts,” Will ventured.

  Suzy laughed, her focus restored. “First time I’ve ever been accused of that.”

  “It was meant as a compliment.”

  “Then that’s how I’ll take it. You ever been married,
Will?”

  “No. You?”

  “Yes. But let’s not talk about that, okay?”

  “Fine by me.”

  “Good.” She took another sip of her drink. “What do you say I finish this, then we get out of here?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “My three favorite words.”

  “You’re really very beautiful,” he told her, surprising them both. Until this moment, he hadn’t actually thought she was.

  “No. I’m too skinny,” she said. “I know it’s all the rage, but I’ve always wanted curves. Like, what did you say her name was—Kristin?”

  “Yeah, she’s pretty hot.”

  “She doesn’t mind about your brother . . . ?”

  “What about him?” Hadn’t he just told her she was beautiful? Why was she asking about Jeff again?

  “Well, you said he instigated the bet. What if I’d picked him? She’d really have been okay with that?”

  “I think they have a pretty open arrangement.”

  “Really.” It was more statement than question.

  “You finished that drink yet?” he asked, aware Suzy’s eyes had drifted back toward Jeff and standing up to block her line of sight.

  Suzy took one last gulp, then lowered her now-empty glass to the table. “All gone. Lead the way, Dr. Rydell.”

  Will tried not to enjoy the sound of that as he tucked a twenty-dollar bill beneath his beer glass and followed after Suzy as she zigzagged her way through the tables toward the front door. He saw her acknowledge Jeff and Tom with a sly nod, then wave good-bye to Kristin as she walked past.

  “Shit,” he heard Tom mutter. “Can you believe that?”

  Will waited for Jeff to say something, but there was only silence. When he reached the exit, he looked back, hoping for a thumbs-up from his brother. Instead Jeff stared right through him, as if he weren’t there. He was still staring when Will turned and followed Suzy into the night.

  THREE

  “SHIT,” TOM SAID AGAIN. “Did you see that stupid grin on his face? Like he just swallowed a goddamn canary. I’d like to bust that grin wide open, man.” He banged his fist against the marble countertop.

  “Leave it be,” Jeff advised.

  “You need something over there?” Kristin asked from the other end of the bar.

  Jeff shook his head no.

  “I mean, it’s one thing to win the bet, man,” Tom continued. “But you gotta be gracious about it. You can’t go walking around like you’re the Second Coming, for shit’s sake. The goddamn cock of the walk.”

  Jeff almost laughed. What did Tom know about graciousness? Although he was strangely grateful for Tom’s anger. It spared him from feeling more of his own. “I think you’re mixing too many metaphors there, Tommy boy.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? You trying to tell me you’re not pissed?”

  “Hey, what’s done is done.”

  “Well, we don’t exactly know that, do we?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, we don’t know where they’re going or what they’re gonna do when they get there,” Tom explained. “Assuming they do anything. Suzy Pomegranate could be giving little brother the kiss-off right now, and how are we gonna prove otherwise? We’re just supposed to take his word that he scored?”

  “You think he’d lie about it?”

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “Wouldn’t have to,” Jeff said.

  “Yeah? Well, she didn’t pick you, did she? So, I guess it’s a mute point.”

  “I think you mean ‘moot,’” Jeff corrected him.

  “Whatever,” Tom said, pushing himself away from the bar.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m gonna follow them.”

  “What? No. Get back here. Sit down. You’re drunk.”

  “So what?”

  “So, they’ll see you, that’s what.”

  “No, they won’t. You don’t think I learned anything in Afghanistan?”

  Jeff said nothing. The truth was he didn’t think Tom had learned a damn thing in Afghanistan.

  “You coming?” Tom asked, shifting impatiently from one foot to the other.

  Jeff shook his head. There was no way he was going to go chasing after his brother. No way he’d give the kid that kind of satisfaction. It was bad enough he’d been upstaged and humiliated by Will all through their formative years. But to have to relive it all over again now, here, on his own turf . . . I should never have let him back into my life, Jeff was thinking, signaling Kristin for another drink. He should have told Will to get lost when he’d first shown up on his doorstep ten days earlier. He should have slammed the door in his smiling, eager face.

  Jeff recalled the joke he’d told earlier. “Make a wish,” the genie said. “Anything you want, you shall have.”

  I want him gone, Jeff thought.

  “Last chance,” Tom said, backing toward the exit.

  “Go for it,” Jeff said quietly as Tom pushed open the door and vanished in an imaginary cloud of smoke.

  THE WARM, HUMID air immediately wrapped itself around Tom’s body, clinging to his skin like Saran Wrap, as his eyes searched the busy sidewalk for signs of Will and Suzy. Where were they? How could they have disappeared so quickly? He looked across the street toward the ocean he could hear but not see in the dark, except for the occasional crest of moonlit wave careening restlessly toward the shore. Where the hell could they have gone so fast?

  It was several seconds before he spotted them. They were standing on the corner of Ocean Drive and Tenth Street, in the middle of a group of Friday-night revelers, waiting for the traffic light to change. He propelled himself toward them, his gait unsteady, his footing unsure. Maybe Jeff was right, he was thinking, stumbling over his own feet and almost falling into a group of giggling teenage girls in thigh-high skirts and five-inch heels. Maybe he was too drunk to go after them. Where the hell were they going anyway?

  He watched Suzy suddenly grab hold of Will’s sleeve to steady herself as she flipped off her sexy, black sling-back sandals. He saw Will’s hand reach for hers as she let go, saw her ignore it and dart from his side, running across the street toward the ocean, seemingly oblivious to the steady stream of moving cars around her. When she got to the other side of the road, she stopped and turned around, waiting for Will as he waited for a break in the traffic. The ocean breeze whipped several strands of long brown hair into her face, and as she brushed them aside, her eyes penetrated the darkness, stopping directly on Tom. Had she recognized him? Tom wondered, ducking behind a middle-aged couple, both wearing long shorts and flip-flops, who were walking arm in arm. He felt the ground suddenly lurch beneath him, as if he’d been dropped on a moving sidewalk, and lifted both arms out to waist height to steady himself.

  When he looked back again, Will and Suzy were gone.

  “Shit,” Tom swore, loud enough to draw a look of displeasure from several passersby, all of whom promptly picked up their pace, as if to put as much distance between them and Tom as they could. “Where the hell did you go now?” he demanded, stepping off the curb into the path of an approaching car.

  The driver of the black Nissan screeched to a halt, honked his horn, and swore loudly as he lowered his front window to give Tom the finger.

  Normally Tom would have sworn right back, maybe even jumped into the front seat beside the driver, given the asshole more than just his middle finger. But tonight he was on a mission, and he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted. Distraction could be deadly. Tom knew that all it took was one second when you weren’t paying attention. That’s when you stepped on a buried land mine, and bam! —your legs went flying through the air, no longer attached to your body.

  This was a stupid idea, he decided now as his shoes sank into the dry sand. Ever since he’d come back from that godforsaken country, he’d hated sand. Lainey was always after him to take the kids to the beach. But he never would. He’d seen enough sand to last a lifetime.


  And now, look at him. Not only was he up to his ankles in the goddamn stuff, he was going to ruin his brand-new high-topped black sneakers that cost almost three hundred bucks, or would have, had he actually paid for them instead of just walking out of the store wearing them. Tom executed a slow 360-degree turn, trying to locate Will and Suzy in the dark. Where were they? Had Suzy seen him, then confided her suspicion that he was tailing them to Will? Were they watching him right now from behind one of the giant palms that lined the beach like sentries, laughing at his ineptitude and waiting to see what he’d do next?

  Should he give them something to see?

  Tom chuckled as he reached for the small handgun tucked behind the silver buckle of his heavy, black leather belt and concealed by his checkered shirt. Jeff would have freaked if he knew he was carrying, but what the hell? Contrary to public opinion, he didn’t always do what Jeff told him to.

  Tom had acquired four guns since returning from Afghanistan, none of them registered—two .44 Magnums, an H'R nine-shot .22, and an old Glock .23, which he rotated on a regular basis. His favorite was the .22, more a girl’s weapon really, because it was small, easy to hide, and relatively lightweight, although it never ceased to amaze him how heavy the damn thing actually was. He’d given it to Lainey on their first anniversary. Of course, she’d refused to touch it. Guns were a disaster waiting to happen, she’d lectured. He hadn’t argued. What was the point? Wasn’t Lainey convinced she was right about everything?

  Tom left the weapon tucked into his belt, raised an invisible gun into the air instead, pulled its imaginary trigger.

  That was when he saw them again.

  They were skipping along the water’s edge about thirty yards down the beach, their bare toes playing hide-and-seek with the incoming waves. Tom quickly slipped off his sneakers, groaning as he felt the warm granules of sand worm their way between his toes.

  “I can’t believe it’s still so warm out,” he heard Will say, the wind effortlessly transporting his voice along the shore.

  “Can’t ever be too hot for me,” came Suzy’s reply.

  Are they really talking about the weather? Tom wondered. What kind of morons do they admit to Princeton?