A guy in a black trench coat brushed past Manny, his eyes red and angry. Manny shuddered and turned to watch him go, but the crowd swallowed him, and he vanished from sight. Manny’s forearm tingled where the guy had touched him, a strange sensation that was gone in a second.
He decided to play this one cool and stay in Amy's area but act like he didn’t notice her. Chickenshit. His mind raced with a hundred things to say to her, and every one of them sounded stupid. He said hello to a couple of people he knew from school and made pretend he was watching the band. He tried to angle his body to get a glimpse of her, but it wasn't working with the flow of people around him.
“Manny?”
He turned and stared into Amy’s hazel eyes.
“Manny?” she asked, uncomfortably, but kept smiling. “Are you alright?”
“Of course.” He looked around and hoped that his face hadn’t turned red with embarrassment. He’d have to kill himself later for staring at her like that. Minutes passed, and they just stood there. He wanted to scream, to punch himself in the face. He was blowing this, and he knew it. Say something. Say anything. “I’m surprised to see you here. I didn’t know this was really your thing.”
“It’s not.” Amy laughed. “Laurie told me that John told her that there was a rumor going around that you liked me.”
“John said that?” Manny was going to kill John for being so blunt unless it worked out of course. Still, now she definitely knew, and there was no backtracking if it didn't work out.
“No, Billy Sage told Brian Rosa, and then he told Amy, the other Amy, who told someone else. I don’t remember who—”
Manny was staring at her and couldn't stop himself. She was the prettiest girl in school, and the fact she'd come across town to go to a club and see a band she had no interest in just to see if the rumor he might like her was true made him happy.
"I kinda knew you were interested because Mike Mills told Tammy Kelly in biology class that someone in third period liked me, and there are only five guys in the class, and I know for sure Katz and DePippa have girlfriends, and Galvin is kinda weird, and I hoped it wasn't him, and that leaves you and the kid with the mustache you sit next to. I don't remember what his name is. I think Doug or Dan, but he wears Civil War hats and smells like a hippy all the time."
Suddenly, Manny gripped his forearm where the guy had brushed against him. He looked back through the crowd. Something was wrong.
Amy was droning on about how she knew he liked her, but he didn’t care anymore. “I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Hey, wait!”
Manny stopped and smiled weakly at her. “I’m sorry, but I have to go right now. I can’t explain it. I do like you.”
Amy smiled. “I like you too.”
He pushed through the crowd toward the front door, ignoring the multitude of people that he recognized and who stopped to talk with him.
When he got outside, he didn’t know what he expected to see, but there was no one there. The wind whipped a burst of sand up over Chelsea Avenue and dropped it at Manny’s feet. He could hear the surf pounding a block away.
Long Branch was picture-perfect: another great summer night in New Jersey.
Smoke.
He smelled it a second before the roof of Murphy’s Law seemed to explode in flames. The front glass doors shattered, sending debris and two bodies onto the pavement. Manny tried to brave the flames overhead and run inside to save someone—anyone—but, in answer, the eave above that had proudly proclaimed “Murphy’s Law Club” fell in a flash of sputtering orange flames before him.
A series of small explosions could be heard from within, light concussions that grew in volume and pace. He wanted to scream for his father and mother.
No one was coming out of the building alive, and Manny ran to go around to the back door.
The man with the trench coat was standing at the end of the block like a statue.
Manny had the urge to charge him, to drag him down and pummel him. But he wasn't alone. There was another fire, smaller, directly in front of the man. It looked…odd. Like it was moving and interacting with him in some way. It made no sense.
Another explosion, this time loud and powerful, blew out the side windows of the building. Glass pelted Manny, and he stumbled back and stamped his singed arm hair, the heat unbearable even from a distance.
Three people stumbled out of the back entrance of Murphy’s Law, and Manny helped a coughing girl to the parking lot. He could hear screams from inside but knew to go back for anyone was suicide. The flames were so intense and so raging.
When he glanced back down the block, it was deserted. There was no sign of the man or the fire.
The roof collapsed behind him.
Chapter 2
July 8th 1988
Christine Gouveia wasn’t sure about Ron Freeman, but tonight, it didn’t matter. As they walked the beach together, she cleared her mind of negative thoughts. They’d been dating casually, on and off, for a few weeks, and she could tell that Ron wanted to be more than friends, but she didn’t know what she wanted. Actually, she did know.
Cindy Gruper, with her full lips and great thighs, Christine thought. She was almost positive that Cindy felt the same way, but she didn’t want to risk being wrong. In her second year at Rutgers University, Christine had a tenuous hold on the popular crowd and didn’t want to ruin it. She’d already made a drunken pass at Cindy about a month ago during a room party, putting her arms around her and kissing her neck before her roommate, Debbie, had intervened by splashing them with a wine cooler. Cindy had stayed away from her since, or maybe it was just that they rarely saw one another during the week.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Ron said and squeezed her hand.
Christine smiled. “I was just thinking about how lovely it is down here. I haven’t been this far south in so long.”
“Same here. I’m glad you decided to come home this weekend.”
“And if I didn’t?”
“I would have come up to Rutgers to see you again.”
Christine laughed. “I figured that. I needed to come home, see my little brother and my mom, and get away from school for a while.” And get Cindy Gruper out of my head for one night. It wasn’t working. If she was being honest with herself, she would have preferred Cindy’s company to Ron’s in a heartbeat.
Not that there was anything wrong with Ron. She stared at him as they walked, admiring his sleek body under his tight T-shirt and his strong jawline. He had arms to die for, and his smile could light up a room. But he wasn’t built like Cindy—plump, moist lips; sashaying ass; and perfect tits.
It was just past midnight, and the moon was bright over the ocean, lighting the beach before them like a runway. Ron absently kicked at some driftwood. “Dinner was good, right?”
“Yes, it was.” Christine didn’t want to get into small talk, but Ron seemed to slip into it whenever there was a pause in the conversation. “I love Mexican food.”
“That’s the best place in Long Branch for it.”
She laughed. “I think it’s the only place for it.”
He stopped. “Then I’m not lying, am I?”
“I guess not.” She was going to say something else when he, abruptly, put his hands on either side of her face and kissed her softly. She enjoyed the moment, her tongue touching his slightly and drawing his into her mouth. I might get used to this.
She didn’t consider herself a lesbian just yet. She’d never even kissed another girl, but she’d always fantasized about it. Growing up, there was always one of her friends or someone that she knew that she dreamt about, wondering what it would be like to kiss her lips and fondle her, to have another woman touch her and caress her with soft hands and make her explode.
She realized, with horror, she was groping at Ron, grabbing at his ass as she kissed him fiercely.
He didn’t seem to mind even when she pulled away from him hastily. “Wow,” he muttered. “That was intens
e.”
If only it was about you. “Let’s keep walking.”
Ron took her hand in his again, and they moved down the beach just out of reach of the lazy waves. They skirted around a horseshoe crab and took turns staring at the moon.
“It’s so beautiful,” Ron managed after another pause. He stopped and stared at her. “But it doesn’t compare to your beauty.”
Christine didn’t know what to say. She realized that going out tonight with Ron was probably a mistake, and this would all end horribly. Already, she’d been giving him the wrong signals, kissing him while imagining other women, leading him on with this romantic walk after a great dinner. She wanted to run away or find some excuse to have him take her home.
Amazingly, he turned away from her and pointed, breaking the moment. “I didn’t realize how close we were to the old pier.”
She felt like a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. “Me neither. I can still remember the fire.”
“Me too. I was at Murphy’s Law when it happened.”
Christine cocked her head. “You lie.”
“Nope. I was there with some buddies. We got out pretty quick.”
“I was there as well. How weird is that?”
He turned back the way they’d come. “I bet if we hopped that wall, we’d be really close to where it was.”
“Why not?” It was better than another awkward embrace, and she wanted to break the spell between them. Checking out a burned building should do the trick.
She shimmied over the wall, aware that her skirt hiked up as she did and exposed her thigh and a shot of her undies and ass for Ron to get excited about. “Where is it?” she asked hurriedly. “I thought it was right on that corner.”
“Yeah, it’s that lot right there on the corner of Chelsea and Ocean. Not much left of it, but I remember the fun times there.” Ron took her hand, but it was no longer with a subtle, loving grip. He was like a kid in a candy store and dragged her along.
There wasn’t much to see. Some scattered masonry littered a weed-infested mud slop, an old shopping cart turned over in a large puddle and nearly sunken.
Ron pulled on Christine’s arm, and she hesitated. “I don’t want to get wet and dirty.”
“We’ll be careful. It will be our little adventure for the night,” Ron said. He winked at her. “Our first of many, perhaps.”
Fat chance of that happening, she thought. “I don’t think so.”
“Don’t be a chicken.”
“Fuck you,” she blurted.
She saw his face drop, and he looked like he’d been slapped.
“I mean, really, trudging around a disgusting lot where people died isn’t my idea of a great date.”
Ron shrugged. “OK, I understand. I was just trying to loosen up the night, get a little wild and have some fun.”
Christine leaned in and kissed his cheek. “We can have fun in the comfort of an air conditioned car as well.” As soon as she said it, she wanted to kill herself. Now he thinks I want to fuck him in the backseat of his shitty car. Great!
Ron seemed to hesitate, looking at the lot and then back at Christine, his eyes wide and gleaming. When he glanced down at her chest, he took a step away but then glanced back at the weeds and debris and motioned toward the lot. “I want to go this way.”
“I don’t.”
Suddenly, Ron’s hand shot up and slapped Christine across the face. She fell to one knee, stunned.
Ron grabbed her by her hair and forced her to stand, twisting his fist in her locks and pulling her with him. “I said I want to go this way.”
“What the fuck are you doing?” she tried to demand, but it came out as a squeak, tears blurring her vision. She felt her hair being pulled out from the roots in spots. She thought she was screaming, but her lips wouldn’t move, and her throat was tight. With fear, she realized that Ron was choking her as he dragged her across the street and onto the muddy property.
He dropped her, unceremoniously, into a puddle and kicked her in the ribs. Christine was sure that she heard bones breaking. She couldn’t breathe, her throat sore from his vicious grip moments ago.
Ron stooped down and lifted her head, gingerly, from the ground and stared into her eyes with a look that was almost affection. “I’m glad you decided to join me here.”
Something in her eyes must have bothered him because he looked away. “I didn’t realize until now that we’ve been called back here. Don’t you hear it?” Ron stroked her hair, his voice a whisper. “We weren’t supposed to leave that night.”
“Fuck you,” she managed to croak.
He dropped her head back into the water and pushed her face into it. Christine thrashed in the water, globs of mud getting sucked down her raw throat. She felt her front teeth, driven into the ground, loosen.
“You don’t get it,” Ron said as he pulled her out of the water. As she gasped for air, he quickly kissed her on the lips, his tongue probing her blood-filled mouth. He pulled away from her, and she puked black water and watched as three teeth landed near her.
Her head spun as sparkles of light danced in her vision. This is a nightmare; this isn’t real; this can’t really be happening, her mind screamed. Her midsection was aflame from his attack, and she was sure that she had broken bones.
Ron walked away a few steps and raised his hands to the sky. “Haven’t you felt the call? Haven’t you wondered why you dreamed about the night of the fire? Why all those people died and you were spared?”
Despite the pain, Christine sat up. Through her broken teeth, she spit blood and sighed. What Ron had just said struck a nerve. “I do dream about the fire,” she whispered. “Almost every night.”
Christine stood on trembling legs. “I never remember the nightmares when I wake, but now I do. It’s all so clear.” She began to sob.
Ron was ecstatic now, jumping from one foot to the other and splashing water. “I knew it! I knew it!”
Christine looked around at the empty lot, the weeds rustling in the faint breeze, the sounds of Long Branch in the distance. “Now what?”
Ron rushed her and gripped her shoulders, fiercely. “You can’t tempt fate. Isn’t that what they say?”
“Who?” Christine tried to pull away, but Ron held tight.
Ron punched her across the jaw, driving her to the ground. “Get up,” he commanded.
“I can’t.”
“Do as I say, or I’ll force you up by your hair again.”
“Why are you doing this?” Christine asked.
Her answer was Ron wrapping his fingers through her hair again and lifting her to her feet. He kissed her again, gently, a lingering kiss of passion. When he pulled his lips from hers, he smiled. “I will always love you, Christine. We’ll be together in death now as well.
He watched Ron Freeman and Christine Gouveia cross the street and climb over the wall to the ocean but didn’t exit his car. He knew, without looking, that they would embrace in the surf and, eventually, drown one another. He'd seen it in his dreams the last few nights.
Taking the notebook from the passenger seat, he flipped through it, carefully adding today’s date and the time to the entries for both people. He thumbed through the pages carefully, marveling at just how much work needed to be completed. He made sure to skip past the page with his own name on it. The pages weren't needed, but he'd felt compelled to write them down when the dreams had begun.
"Enjoy the water," he whispered and laughed at his own joke.
When he was done, he slipped the notebook into a plastic bag and that into a leather case. He wouldn’t need to update it for another year unless an accidental or natural death occurred to someone between now and then.
His work finished, John Regan started up his engine and went about his business for another year and another year of dreams.
“How’s it going, Manny?”
Manny Santiago smiled at Teddy Patterson, Senior. “Pretty good.” He dropped his smile. “It’s a shame we’re doing this
, but…”
“I hear ya, kid.” Teddy Sr. put his arm around Manny and pointed at the large group of onlookers standing behind the roped-off lot. “I can’t believe the place burned down a year ago. Seems like only yesterday.” He shuffled from foot to foot and thrust his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t think you’d be down here, kid.”
“I know.” Manny watched as people strode back and forth in front of the erected barricades and caution tape. “I haven’t been back since that night.”
“I’m not sure why I’m here either.” Teddy pointed at the lot. “We both lost too much here.”
Manny didn’t say anything. He wanted to scream, wanted to cry. Why did I come back? He’d stayed away for an entire year, took care of himself, and graduated high school like nothing had happened. But inside…
“I haven’t seen you around. You alright?”
“Yeah, you know us Santiagos. We’re survivors.” As soon as he said it, he heard the irony of his words lingering over the lot where his parents had died.
The people close to him in the crowd were watching him and looking away when he made eye contact. I'm sure most of them think I'm nuts for being here, he thought. He knew he was crazy for being there. But he'd felt compelled to make an appearance not knowing if he'd have a public breakdown or if he'd be able to handle seeing where everything turned to shit for his family.
Teddy Sr. patted Manny on his back. “Your parents were the definition of stubborn. Hell, I remember selling them their part of the lot way back when, before there was even a building there.”
“Really? I thought they just bought the club from someone else.”
Teddy Sr. shook his head. “I bought a strip club back in the seventies called Strutters and changed the name to TNT. I wanted to get some money for the other half of the lot to the corner, and your parents wanted to open another place.”
Manny was confused. “Another place? I thought Murphy’s Law was the only place they ever owned.”
“Stubborn parents, Manny, stubborn people. Nah, they owned a place across the street from the Stone Pony in Asbury Park before that. Springsteen and his crew used to play in there on occasion. I saw Steel Mill jam there on a Tuesday night once. Must have been six people in the joint.”
Chelsea Avenue Page 2
