“I guessed. She as nice as your dad?”
“They’re divorced. She flew up from California to take me for my test. She lives in Sacramento. I don’t see her much. But she’s nice. I miss her like crazy.”
“What’s she wearing? In the picture.”
Azura ignored my question. “I called her at work that morning. Dad was supposed to take me to my driving test, but like always, he made plans that didn’t include me. I was mad. We’d already missed one test and it would take a month to schedule another appointment. So I called Mom, not to ask her to come, but just to talk to someone, you know? She asked what time my appointment was. I told her four o’clock. She shows up at the house at three to pick me up. She left work without changing her clothes, drove straight to the airport, and flew up here, just so I would still make the appointment. I passed the test. We took the photo. Then we went out for dinner on Dad’s credit card. It was one of the best nights ever.”
“That’s pretty nice, all right. Where’s she work?”
“Donner’s Lumber and Hardware. She’s just a regular old store clerk. First real job she’s ever had in her life.”
“Funny, but you don’t strike me as the daughter of a store clerk.”
“Dad divorced her. He has better lawyers than she does. She got nothing. Not even visitation rights. So she moved in with her parents—my grandparents—down in Sacramento. She got a job at a local hardware store. She says she loves it—the job, I mean. I believe her.”
“But you’re up here and she’s down there.”
“Meaning?”
“I don’t know. Doesn’t she want to be near you?”
“I think she does. I mean, she does, but she can’t afford it. And I think she really wants to be away from my dad.”
“So she wants to be away from him more than she wants to be near you?” Azura didn’t answer that one. She said: “What time is it?”
“Why?”
“Because it’s Friday. And I promised Janine I’d go to her party. Remember—all the phonies in one room. I said I’d bring you.”
“I’m not going.”
“Why not?”
“You go. I’ll be okay.” I smiled without feeling. “What was the deal?”
“What deal?”
“I mean, why’d they split up? Your parents.”
“Depends who you ask. Dad says that Mom’s personality wasn’t conducive to my self-esteem. Mom says that Dad didn’t think she measured up.”
“They kind of sound like the same thing.”
“Hmm. Maybe they are. Anyway, Dad comes from this snooty East Coast family. He tracks his ancestors back to the revolutionary war and that sort of thing. His great-great-great-great grandfather or whatever was George Washington’s aide. In fact, that’s why you came to the house. Some fancy East Coast member of the Lear family died and left Dad that clock you picked up from us. It’s a bazillion years old, just like most of the stuff in our house.”
“Yeah, Nadel was gushing over how rare it was.” An idea struck me. “How much you think that clock is worth?”
“I have no idea. A lot probably. Maybe fifty thousand. Why? You think Nadel would murder your mom to get a clock?”
“Man loves his money, but he’s always been like family to us. Anyway, that makes no sense. It’s your dad’s clock. Your dad knows where it is. There’s no reason my mom would even be involved.” I tore the dill pickle in two and ate my half. “Your mom into antiques, too?”
“Mom’s family is significantly less snooty.”
“Then why’d your parents get married in the first place?”
“They met in college. Mom was a scholarship kid at Penn State and Dad went there because all his male ancestors went there, back into the 1800s. Mom says that once upon a time, she and Dad were actually in love. Dad’s parents never approved because they’d never heard of her family. So, at the end of Mom’s sophomore year in college, Mom and Dad ran out west together. That’s how they landed here. But Dad eventually came around to his parents’ way of thinking. So now Dad and I live alone in this big fancy house and mom lives alone in Sacramento.”
“I thought you said she lived with her parents.”
“She does. She lives alone with her parents. Just like I live alone with my dad.”
“So why don’t you go to California and stay with your mom?”
“Because Dad has custody.”
“So what? You’re sixteen. In this state, that means you can decide for yourself. That’s why I can live alone and not with a foster family. If I were you, I’d just run away and move in with my mom.”
“It’s easy to say.”
“Yeah, especially when it means you’d have to be the daughter of a store clerk.”
“You think that’s why I’m up here?”
“I think that’s part of it. I mean, if I had to choose between a nice house and living with my mom, I wouldn’t hesitate.”
“You can be a real jerk sometimes.”
“That’s why you love me.”
“It’s not funny. You are not funny.” She took a bite of her sandwich and glared at me. I took a bite of mine and stared back. I tried to look as serious as possible. She held my stare, then finally broke into a partial smile. “You should be nice to me, you know. I’m planning your mom’s funeral.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve just never been very good at nice. But for you, I think I could learn.” I went to the counter for a few extra napkins. When I came back I said, “Question: Who bought your car for you? The one in the picture.”
“My dad. Why?”
“Because it’s complicated, that’s why.”
“What is?”
“Parents. Moms. Dads. They are just so damn complicated.”
Fourteen
I stared out the window of MSM, but all I could see was my own reflection. There I was, sitting at the table with this beautiful rich girl who I’d deeply known for only a handful of days.
Soon Mom would be buried in the ground somewhere. I’d be alone in our crappy little apartment. I kept expecting Mom to come home. I kept thinking that I’d go back to ChooChoo’s gym and she’d be upstairs, waking up from a nap, giving me a present, sharing some advice she’d never figured out how to follow on her own. But she wasn’t coming back. I was alone for good.
I looked at Azura. Was there any chance this girl could be a part of my life? It seemed so unlikely. I’d never been good at making friends. I’d never had much of a girlfriend before. Now this one comes into my world right when I need her the most. Would she be gone in a week? Would she last a month? What then?
I drove Azura to her car, which she’d parked near the school. Before she got out of the Jeep, she turned to me. “Come to the party with me.”
“Not tonight.”
“I don’t want you to be alone.”
“I don’t want to be.”
“Then come with me.”
“I’ll be fine. That’s what I’m supposed to say, right?”
“You’re supposed to tell the truth.”
“Mom always said, if you haven’t got something nice to say—”
“It’s fine to be sad. It’s natural.”
“It sucks.”
“I’ve got to go. I promised.”
She left to join her friends. I went back home and went to bed, but I couldn’t get to sleep. Mom had worked nights for years, so I was used to being home alone, but the apartment felt particularly empty that night.
I wanted to be with Azura, but I knew where she was and I didn’t want to go there. Janine Turner’s party.
Janine was a Northeast kid. Northeast Tacoma was a sprawling collection of upscale suburbs that had grown on the edge of the city. Even though it was five miles away, it was still within the Tacoma city limits and Heath was the close
st high school, so Northeast kids all made the drive to Heath every morning. I didn’t know a single one who took the school bus.
It seemed like all Northeast houses were new. At least they looked new to me. Most of the streets were loops or cul-de-sacs. I’d done a couple of pickups and deliveries for Nadel over there and I got lost every time. Those were the only times I’d been there. I’d heard of the parties thrown by the suburban kids. Some were legendary. But I’d never been invited to one.
I didn’t know Janine more than to say hi in a school hallway, but I understood why Azura liked her. Janine was happy. She almost always smiled. Maybe her life was so perfect that happiness was the natural result. Or maybe she was just wired that way. She had hair so blond it was almost white. She was tall—almost as tall as me—and curvy. I thought she wore braces, but I wasn’t sure.
It took me fifteen minutes to drive to her neighborhood and another thirty minutes to find her home. The curving streets seemed to be laid out without logic. The houses all looked almost exactly the same, but a practical builder had plastered oversize wooden house numbers on the fronts, probably recognizing that there was no other way to tell the homes apart.
I finally came upon a street jammed with a lot of parked cars and I saw Azura’s Lexus coupe in the mix. Then I just followed the music to the loudest door. Sounded like the Black Keys. At least I approved of that.
I knocked. A tall blond girl who was not Janine opened the door with her back to me. “And I suppose you think you do?” she said, to some unseen person behind her. She turned to me and said, “What are you doing here?” She gave me a mean stare, then broken into a laugh. “Kidding. C’mon in. I like your shirt. Makes you look all gangster.” She walked unsteadily back into her unfinished conversation, leaving me to close the door.
I stepped into the house. Dozens of shoes were piled next to the front door, but I decided to keep mine on. Didn’t want anyone stealing my new LeBrons.
Boys and girls stood around in clusters. A few looked in my direction and nodded. I knew a lot of the names, but didn’t know any of the people well enough to know which ones could help me find Azura. I walked through an archway into the living room.
A pile of girls and one guy covered a couch, twisted together like the arms of an octopus. “Seth!” the guy shouted, from the middle of the pile. “Twice in one day, brother.” It was Patrick. Having him speak my name calmed my nerves.
“Hey, Patrick. This your mix coming through the speakers?”
“How’d you know?”
“Because it doesn’t suck.”
Patrick laughed, then dug his way out of the female arms and legs. He stood up. “What’re you doing here, dude? Didn’t think this was your scene.”
“Is it yours?”
He laughed again. “You know what? I think it is. These people depend on me. I bring a little light into their darkness.”
“Or at least you bring a little B.S.”
“That too, dude. What’s up with you?”
“I’m looking for Azura. Saw her car out front.”
“Serious? So it is true. You two are an item. She doesn’t seem like your scene, either.”
“Not sure yet. You know where she is?”
“I don’t. Maybe in the back. See ya.” He dove back into all that flesh on the couch. The girls there giggled.
I walked through the doorway into a large, bright kitchen. On the counter was an arrangement of bottles—wine, beer, vodka, tequila, and a few more caramel-colored liquids I didn’t recognize. Four boys were liberally pouring shots for the unsteady blonde who had opened the front door. I walked by and exited onto a back patio.
The backyard lights were off. A few couples were jammed into patio chairs, talking, drinking, and making out. One girl looked up when I walked by, then went back to her business. I saw Azura and another girl that I thought was Janine at the far end of the deck, in what looked like a deep conversation. Azura glanced up when I approached.
“Seth, what are you doing here? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I came to be with you.”
“You did? Really?”
“Really. You think I’d come for another reason?”
She frowned at me. “This is Janine. She looked at her friend. “Janine, this rude boy is Seth Anomundy.”
“Hi,” said Janine. She smiled. I was right about the braces. Even in the dark, I could see the teeth beneath them were still crooked, but I bet her parents and her orthodontist would pull them into shape. The rest of her was perfect already.
“Hi,” I said. I turned to Azura. “You wanna get out of here?”
“Maybe in a while, but not yet. Sit down and talk to us for a few minutes.”
I sat down, but nobody talked. Finally, Janine said, “This is fun.” She almost sounded like she meant it.
I thought about leaving, with or without Azura.
Patrick came stumbling through the deck door and hustled over to us. “Hey, Seth. Erik Jorgenson just got here.”
I jumped to my feet. Azura stood up next to me and put a hand on my shoulder. “Stay. I’ll go talk to him. Just wait for me here.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Patrick.
I stood and watched them disappear through the kitchen doorway. I kept standing.
“You can sit down,” said Janine. “She can take care of herself.”
I sat, but I kept watching the doorway.
“She told me about you, you know,” Janine said.
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning she told me she went out with you. Told me you came to her house after your mom—she didn’t hide it or anything.”
“So she wasn’t ashamed of me?”
“Right.”
“How brave of her.” I worked hard to let my sarcasm show.
We went back to not talking for a while, then Janine said, “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“What’s not?”
“You and her. I mean, she’s not my only friend to do this sort of thing.”
“What sort of thing is that?”
“I don’t know. What would you call it? A bad-boy phase?”
“How long do these phases usually last?”
“The question of the night. For you at least.” She stretched out like a cat across her chair, hanging her long legs over the armrest, her arms behind her head. She yawned. “You know, it’s like taking your first drink. You’re not supposed to do it. Your parents don’t want you to do it. You know if they find out they’ll be totally pissed off. And it’s probably just a bad idea to begin with. But those are all the reasons you do it.” She giggled, as if she was remembering something funny.
I looked at her. She looked back and smiled, but kept her lips closed this time. I said, “Here’s a question. Would you say you’re Azura’s best friend?”
Her smiled turned to a frown. “Probably. Why?”
“You’d say she loves you?”
“I guess. Yes.”
“Respects you?”
“Respects me?”
“Yes. Do you think she respects you?”
“Respects me? That’s a weird thing to ask. Who knows?”
“Not me. I’m gonna go now.” I stood up and walked toward the kitchen. I wondered if Prince Erik had his football buddies with him and my fists clenched all on their own. Janine uncurled from her chair and followed me.
Erik and Azura were standing and talking in the middle of the living room. They looked perfect together. Not happy. Just perfect. Fine bloodlines in both families. I tried to guess how the conversation was going, then decided to join it. I walked straight toward them. Erik stopped, turned my direction, and stopped talking in the middle of a sentence. I remembered what a nice swing he had with that baseball bat. My stomach still hurt. He said, “What are you doing here, Seth?”
“Now that is the question of the night.” I looked at Azura. “I’m going.”
“Just give me a couple of minutes,” she said.
“Nah. Take all the time you want, but I’m going now.”
“Good idea,” said Erik. “Go.”
I turned and took a step toward him. I put both my hands on his chest and pushed him, ever so gently. “You bring your bat, Erik? ’Cause I’m happy to stay around and try you without it.” He didn’t say anything. Patrick and the girls on the couch untwisted themselves to listen. The rest of the room stopped talking, but the music kept pumping. I was half surprised it didn’t shut off.
“What do you say, Erik? You want to go outside? Just you and me? Scuffle a little bit?”
He didn’t run. But he didn’t say a word. I like to believe he looked a little nervous.
So I swung at him, just to make sure. My fist connected with his belly. He wasn’t ready for it. He bent over, holding his stomach and moaning. I left. I heard Azura call my name, but I kept walking and she didn’t follow.
I drove through those twisting streets for another half an hour, trying to find my way back home.
Fifteen
I stayed in bed until two o’clock the next day. I woke up in a bad mood when ChooChoo knocked on my door and asked me if I was available to spar with his big, dumb prospect, A.J. I said yes and tried to shake the sleepiness out of my head. I was stiff, hungry, and felt like hitting something. Boxing sounded good right then.
I laced up a pair of shoes. ChooChoo helped me into my gloves and headgear. I climbed into the ring with A.J., wondering if ChooChoo had figured out how to break him of his jab-jab-cross habit. I figured there was only one way to find out. We touched gloves and I came right for him. I intentionally gave him an open shot at me, keeping my hands low. He went for it and landed a hook on the side of my head. He had faster hands than I thought. I fell straight down to the mat.
ChooChoo climbed in and checked on me. “Tol’ you to spar wit’ ’im, not give ’im target practice. You tryin’ t’ c’mit suicide?”
I climbed up the ropes to my feet, shook the fuzz out of my brain and faced A.J. This time, I kept my guard up, feeling my way toward him with a few jabs. He jabbed back and I hit him with a jab-cross-hook combination that took him by surprise, landing all three punches but not doing much damage. It made him take me seriously. He came in close and started working on my body—just what he should have done. It hurt. I was still sore from the beating I took from Erik and his friends. I barely made it through the round. When ChooChoo rang the bell, I collapsed in my corner.
The Shadow of Seth Page 9
