Dani tells Dr. Kumar what Dr. Kumar has already heard from Beth: that Rob Solomon moved out when Dani was eight to live with another woman and her three children and they all moved to Colorado together. Dani visited a few times and did outdoor things with her dad, but she didn’t feel like she belonged there. For a while she was sad, but now all that seems like a long time ago. Beth was angry about Colorado, very angry, but she seemed to accept it once she met Sean.
“Are you experiencing stress at school? Are you going through a stressful period?”
She tells Dr. Kumar about the tough competitors she and Shelley may face in this year’s MIAA semifinals. About applying to her mother’s alma mater, a great school, but also a couple of safety schools. About rehearsing with Gordy once a week, and how Shelley had a movie date with someone she likes who, Shelley just told Dani, touched her for no reason twenty to twenty-five times during the course of the movie.
It’s good having Dr. Kumar to talk to, so Dani schedules three more appointments. She thinks she’ll enjoy coming back here and looking at beautiful things, including Dr. Kumar herself and her jewel-toned wardrobe. Being here has another advantage. Dani didn’t want to hurt Alex, but she was never a hundred percent sure that she wouldn’t hurt him. If anything ever does happen, by telling several people she’s spread the responsibility around. Mrs. Alex, Sergeant Mason, Officer Pinto, Beth, and now Dr. Kumar, even if they are shocked by her thoughts, are like legs that give her stability. Each of them, by knowing, is taking on a bit of the weight. As days go by and she doesn’t have to babysit, Dani hopes her strange other-side life with Alex might chip off like a chunk of ice that breaks off in a thawing river and spirals away, never to be seen again.
31
“Well?” Beth Solomon asks in the car on the way home from Dani’s appointment. Beth looks hopeful, like a little kid you would hate to disappoint.
“We talked a lot,” Dani answers. “I liked her.”
“I knew you would,” Beth says, looking satisfied. “Do you feel a little better?”
“Definitely. I made the same appointment for the next three weeks.”
“That’s great,” Beth says. She adds the appointments to her phone and then pulls into traffic. “Whatever this is, it didn’t flare up in a day, and it won’t take just a day to get rid of it either.”
32
At their second rehearsal, Dani and Gordy watch Sonny and Cher sing “I Got You, Babe.”
“My dad loves this,” he says. “He and my mom used to sing it to each other.”
When the video ends, Dani and Gordy sing the song together. She does the harmony differently from the recording. They look into each other’s eyes and swing their upper bodies from side to side as if they have long cascades of hair like Cher’s. The way Gordy does this doesn’t seem like a drag queen. It seems simultaneously feminine, respectful, and athletic.
When they’re done, Gordy goes to the kitchen and comes back with two pints of premium ice cream, one of banana and one of Heath bar. Dani remembers the horror of Icey’s and Meghan. What a difference two weeks can make. They sit on the couch with their feet up and start eating one pint each, then trade. This is a time when Dani would normally have been babysitting.
“I’m free!” she says, waving her spoon in the air.
“How come you stopped?” Gordy asks. “They didn’t need you anymore?”
“It was getting to be too much,” Dani says. She shivers and shakes her head, mouths the word ugh without actually saying it. She’s thinking about the bad times, but maybe Gordy will think she just has an ice cream headache.
“Too bad. You seemed to really like that little kid.”
“I did. I started missing him on day one.” She considers telling Gordy about the time Alex used all his game points to buy Louie a Jacuzzi and then it turned out he didn’t know what a Jacuzzi was. But although little kids say and do funny things, when you repeat them or act them out they don’t seem as funny.
She wishes Gordy hadn’t mentioned Alex. Because she’s picturing Alex’s body in the Alexes’ driveway after someone, it must have been Dani, backed the car over him. What does a little kid’s body look like after it’s been run over? A short red streak, with cloth mixed in. She decides to have Gordy drive her past Alex’s house on the way home so she can check the driveway.
Once she’s decided to do that, Dani can focus on how ridiculously good-looking Gordy is. When the ice cream is gone they kiss for half an hour and they both taste like candy and banana.
33
Shelley eats her last chicken nugget with ranch dip. “So what do you think is with all the touching?” she asks.
Dani doesn’t want to point out that Meghan is a craven attention hound. “Some people are more touchy-feely than others,” she says.
“Maybe I’ll see if she wants to hang out next weekend. I mean, if you and I aren’t doing anything.”
“Why don’t you leave the ball in her court and see if she initiates something?” Dani’s worried that Meghan, with her clear case of attention hound–ism, wants to be the pursued instead of the pursuer, and that all the risk will be on Shelley’s side.
Dani stretches on the bench with her arms under her head. She knows Malcolm Pinto is staring—so what else is new?—but she’s just trying to get comfortable.
“Be careful with Meghan, okay?” Dani says. “I think she likes having people infatuated with her.”
“She does have them,” Shelley says. “And you can see why.”
“Mmm.”
“You know,” Shelley continues, “there are straight people around, weird straight people, who like to lead somebody on and then say, ‘Oh my God, how could you think I would be interested in you when I’m straight?’ ”
“That’s their little game, I guess,” Dani says. “It sounds like an ego thing.” She thinks, Are you actually admitting that Meghan might have a flaw?
“It happens pretty often, apparently.” Shelley sips contemplatively from her energy drink. “You know, I’ve been going to GSA since September and I hear people’s stories and I’m like, ‘Yeah that’s sad,’ and I look so sympathetic, and I blend in as a straight person who’s supporting the gay people. No one there knows about me. I’m starting to feel like a fake, as if all the other people have the courage to live their lives a certain way and I don’t.”
“Maybe what you’re describing is true of lots of people in GSA. Maybe that’s why the group is set up that way. So people who are . . .”
“Questioning.”
“ . . . can see what goes on and how it all fits. But they don’t have to disclose anything about themselves. Like, what happened at your first meeting? Did they go around the room and have everyone announce whether they were straight or gay?”
“Of course not. Because then I would know about Meghan.”
“Meghan’s in GSA? I didn’t realize that.”
“She joined after I did. Like, January.”
“Not that that tells us anything.”
“No, it doesn’t. Hey, you probably wonder why I haven’t asked you how it’s going with Gordon.”
“I figured my turn would come sooner or later.” She playfully slaps Shelley as if Shelley has been rude.
“I haven’t asked because it’s so obvious. I can tell by looking at you how it’s going.”
“Swimmingly.”
“I know you pretty well, I guess,” Shelley says.
“Yes you do, my oldest and bestest friend.”
34
That afternoon, Officers Pinto and Lomba see Dani and Shelley walking home from school.
“It’s too bad about that girl there,” Officer Pinto tells this afternoon’s partner.
“The cute, sturdy one?”
“No, the one in the sweatshirt. That one—she just saw the cruiser and turned her head away. She looks like a nice girl, but she’s a little sick.”
35
“This house is getting too small,” Mrs. Pinto says. “It felt
fine a year ago, but since Micaela was born we feel crammed in.” She speaks to her friend Mrs. Sokol on a small porch off the kitchen.
“The third child makes a difference,” Mrs. Sokol agrees. She’s here to pick up her son Kyle, who spent the afternoon with Malcolm.
“I guess it’s time to look around for something bigger.”
“This time, hold out for a larger driveway and a laundry room. Who do you think you’ll use? I really liked Beth Solomon. She was incredibly patient when John decided to be a pain and kept canceling all our appointments. You might want to see if she’s still selling houses. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“She’s another one with her head in the sand,” Mrs. Pinto says.
“What do you mean?”
“Apparently her daughter is severely troubled,” Mrs. Pinto continues in a low voice. “I’m surprised Beth lets her out of the house every morning.”
“Daniela? Why? What’s wrong with her?” Mrs. Sokol has heard only positive things about Daniela, who was in Kyle’s class for a few years. A lot of the kids in town have problems. Some of them grow up in Maple Ledge, a project run by the Hawthorne Housing Authority that got the nickname Sharp Corners because the playground is littered with broken glass. Others come from families where the parents are abusing coke and even heroin. Some parents who seemed perfectly nice at parties keep their kids home on Mondays to hide the kids’ black eyes. Dani always seemed like one of the good kids with good parents.
“The boys are still upstairs, right?” Mrs. Pinto whispers. “I don’t want them to hear.”
“The music is blasting up there. From the sound of it, they’re playing Guitar Hero.”
“Apparently Daniela was talking about killing a little kid she was babysitting for. Mike said they were unable to make an arrest, but only because of a technicality.”
“You mean she was—what, holding him out the window, like Michael Jackson?”
“It’s not funny, Carolyn.”
“I know. But what did she actually do?”
“Apparently she talked about putting a knife to his throat. I shouldn’t say any more. Mike talks when he’s upset—you know some of the awful stuff they see and the sick, messed-up people they sometimes have to deal with—but he always swears me to secrecy.”
“Whose kid was it?”
“You know I can’t tell you anything like that.”
“Oh, come on. You know I won’t say anything.”
“That’s the one thing I absolutely cannot tell you.”
“Oh my God, the kid’s parents must be freaking out.”
“Apparently she was going on about this knife idea to the mother of the child in a very casual tone, like it was the most normal thing in the world. And there’s more.”
“What?”
“Mike said the mother said that when Dani talked about it, she was smiling.”
Malcolm Pinto slips across the kitchen floor in his socks. He opens the fridge. The bottom shelf used to be full of beer for his father, but now it’s loaded with iced tea and soda. He takes two cans, one for himself and one for Kyle, and slips back to his room.
36
Malcolm closes the door to his room after Kyle has left.
Apparently Beth’s daughter is severely troubled. Apparently Daniela was getting ready to kill a little kid she was babysitting for. Apparently she talked about putting a knife to his throat. Apparently she was going on about this knife idea to the mother of the child in a very casual tone, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Dani again.
Dani Solomon is so not what she appears to be.
Apparently.
37
“So,” Malcolm says as their truck idles in line for the town composting center. This time Mike let him drive. So is a funny word, Malcolm thinks. It’s supposed to connect one part of a story to another. But you use it when you want to change the subject and are not sure how. “So, Dad . . . I heard something I wasn’t supposed to hear.”
“With regard to . . . ?” Mike asks.
“Your work stuff. Stuff that’s happening in town.”
“Who did you hear it from?”
“Mom was talking to Kyle’s mom. She didn’t think I was around.” Malcolm inches the car forward.
“Your mother is a wonderful woman,” Michael says, watching birds move in the treetops. “But she needs to know when to keep her mouth shut.”
“She didn’t know.”
“So, what did you overhear?”
“About Dani. The little kid and the knife and the mother.”
“Ah,” Michael says. He sucks on his lower lip and nods. “Strawberry Nutcake.”
“Did that really happen? It sounds unbelievable. I mean, it wasn’t a joke or anything?”
Michael waves to show Malcolm the cars are moving.
“I’m not supposed to tell you what happens on the job. You know that.”
“Okay. I’m just wondering if what Mom repeated is true. But I guess it is.”
“I don’t know how much your mother repeated. And I can neither confirm nor deny.”
“Why would such a nice-seeming girl say and do things like that?” Malcolm asks. He’s always liked these conversations with his dad, but this one feels different and important. He’s not friends with Dani and Shelley—he doesn’t even speak to them—but he always felt they were special, that they lived on a more refined level than most people. While he wants to know more about the knives, a younger part of him hopes it isn’t true. Finding out for sure what his father knows is breaking his heart a little bit. At the same time, it will make him stronger. He’ll be one of the people who know the score, who know the worst. The people in the driver’s seat.
“Because,” Michael says in a teacherly voice, “she seemed to be a sheep, but on closer inspection she is not a sheep.”
“She’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” Malcolm says. His father waves him forward. They’re tenth in line, and the compost center is in sight.
“Aroooo!” Michael calls, imitating a wolf’s howl. He slaps Malcolm on the arm.
“Aroooo!” Malcolm echoes.
38
“When is Dani coming to babysit?” Alex asks.
“Dani’s gone,” his mother says. “She moved away.”
39
Cecilia Martin, English teacher, hands wineglasses to the women in her book group. They probably won’t get around to discussing this month’s pick, The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers. Tonight it’s more important that they hear a real story—Cynthia Draper’s story.
“I can’t believe you feel up to book group after what you’ve been through,” Cecilia told Cynthia on the phone two days earlier.
“How could I not come?” said Cynthia. “I need to talk about it. I feel more comfortable discussing it in a friend’s home than anywhere else.”
Cecilia’s eyes narrow as Cynthia tells her story. She feels how Cynthia must have felt, confronted out of nowhere with a danger to Alex and having to use her wits to save him.
“Good call locking yourself in the bathroom,” Cecilia says. Her wineglass makes a ring on Carson McCullers’s face. “I don’t think I would have had your presence of mind. I would have wigged out.”
Kathleen Perkins recrosses her legs. “I would have taken her down right there. As they say in the Marines, kill ’em all and let God sort ’em out.”
“She still shows up for school every day,” Cecilia says. “That’s the thing that gets me. I had her in English class today, and I kept wondering what goes on behind that innocent-looking face. I asked the school psychologist if she had been in—usually he’s pretty open about that stuff—and he said no. At least now that I said something he’ll know what her deal is, in case—in case I don’t know what.”
“Oh, she’s supposedly getting help,” Cynthia says. “Beth Solomon called right away to tell me that. She was obviously trying to do damage control.”
“Woosh,” Kathleen say
s. “That must have been quite a conversation.”
“It wasn’t,” says Cynthia. “She made a point of leaving a message when she knew I would be at work. Obviously she wasn’t eager to speak to me.”
“I wonder if Dani is looking for another babysitting job,” the teacher muses.
“No, no, no,” Cynthia says. “We cannot let that happen.”
“And you say she was smiling while she told you all this?” Kathleen asks.
“That’s right,” says Cynthia.
“Mmmmm-mm,” Kathleen hums, imitating the creepy music in a horror movie.
“Do not let her babysit for you,” Cynthia says. She clutches her wine and stares at the floor. The other women stare too, as if the portrait of a murdered child is worked into the carpet.
40
“Mom,” Dani says. She carries her laptop into her mother’s home office. “Mom. Would you look at this for a minute?”
She had gone to the Hawthorne Beacon-Times website to read the school sports page when she found this:
Thursday, May 13
SITTER TO MOM: I MIGHT KILL TOT
A babysitter responsible for a five-year-old Hawthorne boy told the child’s mother she contemplated killing him, the Beacon-Times learned on Tuesday.
Sources close to the situation told the Beacon-Times that the sitter told police that she “kept thinking about” murdering the boy and “had a picture in her mind” of him dying. Sergeant Philip Mason of the Hawthorne Police Department confirmed the incident but told a reporter that no charges were filed and asked the Beacon-Times to keep the babysitter’s name private.
A source close to the situation said the sitter, a seventeen-year-old student at Hawthorne High School, revealed her intentions to the child’s mother, who then called 911 and locked herself and the child in an upstairs bathroom while awaiting the arrival of police. The Beacon-Times is withholding the name of the child’s mother in order to protect the privacy of the potential victim. Police arriving on the scene found the sitter alone downstairs. According to Sergeant Mason, after questioning the teen, police returned her to the custody of her parents and urged a psychiatric evaluation, which subsequently took place. Sources did not reveal where the evaluation took place or what results were found.
Things I Shouldn't Think Page 9
