Pot wasn’t really JJ’s thing, though. It made him think even more than he usually did, and it usually wound the spring even tighter. Drinking definitely put JJ more in line with his goals.
“Course,” JJ told Lewis.
At the corner of Southington Street and Main Street, JJ turned. “I have to run by the hospital. Wanna meet tomorrow morning?”
Lewis looked skeptical. “Weren’t you just at the hospital?”
“Yeah. I need something they… want me to put on this cut. I didn’t get it yesterday.” JJ sure wasn’t going to explain what he was planning to Lewis. Lewis was his friend, probably his best friend, but the fire wasn’t something JJ talked about with anyone.
Except maybe another person who had been there.
“Sure, Jaje. Tomorrow. Call me if you want to go by the arcade tonight.” Lewis pulled his PSP out of his pocket, and JJ listened to the tiny beeps and bells that quickly faded from the air as Lewis disappeared down the street.
Breathing a sigh of something—relief?—JJ started up the street to the hospital.
“I NEED to talk to Dr. Ben.”
The woman at the Emergency Room front desk looked way too frazzled to remember seeing JJ there the day before. “Huh?” she practically yelled. “Charles, we need a gurney in here now! What do you need, son?”
JJ hated when people called him son. “Dr. Ben. I’d like to talk to Dr. Ben.”
“There’s no Dr. Ben here, son. Charlie!” she yelled over her shoulder.
Now JJ was getting frustrated. “Yes there is. He just stitched up my hand yesterday.”
Another nurse looked up from a stack of paperwork. “Do you mean Dr. Peragena? He has an office in the pediatric wing of the hospital. He was just helping us out yesterday.”
JJ thanked the helpful nurse, glared at the other one, and left the ER to find the Peds wing of the hospital.
It was bright and cheerful, with loud colors echoing in huge shapes off of every wall. JJ knew it shouldn’t look familiar—it had probably changed multiple times since his stay here—but he recognized it all the same. He’d spent almost two weeks in a room somewhere in this wing, staring at the ceiling, not eating, not sleeping, barely talking to anyone.
His stomach churned as he moved through the halls, and JJ practically ran until he found the sign that read DR. BEN PERAGENA in gold letters.
The waiting room was noisy and filled with small children playing with toys and books. Parents were everywhere, trying to entertain and keep nerves calm. JJ ignored them and went straight to the desk.
“Could I please talk to Dr. Ben?”
This nurse was friendlier than the ER nurse. She smiled at JJ, and her glance stopped on his bandaged hand. “Do you need medical attention?”
JJ wasn’t sure how to answer that. What would get him in to see Dr. Ben? Obviously the guy had a full schedule today. “Uh… kind of. He stitched up my hand in the ER yesterday. I just had a few questions about… my injury?” He wasn’t sure if that last part came out as a question or a statement.
The nurse studied the computer in front of her. “He’s very busy today. Is it something I can help with? Or another doctor in the building?”
JJ felt his heart sink a little. “I’d really like to talk to Dr. Ben,” he mumbled. He knew he was doing everything his teachers couldn’t stand. He was being monosyllabic and passive-aggressive and all those other adjectives they hated. He just didn’t know how else to be.
The nurse’s smile didn’t waver, though. “Let me see if he can squeeze you in somewhere. Can I get your name?”
“Jacob Jones.” The nurse walked through a closed door on her right, and JJ breathed heavily on the desk in front of him while he waited.
She reappeared a few minutes later. “He says he could squeeze you in if you’ll wait a few minutes. How’s that sound?”
JJ released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Sure.” Then he sat down and concentrated on trying to find the hidden pictures in some old copy of Highlights magazine.
“SO, WHAT did you need to talk about, JJ?”
Dr. Ben had a nice office. A huge cherrywood desk like the one in Grandpa’s old office, soft guest chairs, a couch, nice paintings on the walls. No family photos, JJ noticed. He’d never been in a doctor’s office that didn’t have a family photo somewhere in it.
JJ tried to mentally unwind the spring inside him. A drink would have helped. “I had a question for you.”
“About your hand, right?” The slight smile at the right hand corner of Dr. Ben’s mouth told JJ the doctor knew this had nothing to do with JJ’s injury.
“Well… maybe not exactly. I didn’t think your nurse would let me talk to you if I didn’t say that.”
Dr. Ben leaned forward. “What are you, JJ, fourteen?”
“Fifteen.”
“Good. Then you’d probably also like to cut right to the chase. You’re here about the Bijou Street Movie Theater fire, aren’t you?”
The spring loosened a little. “Yeah. I heard you talking in the hospital. I heard what you said about… your daughter. About me.”
Pain tightened Dr. Ben’s face. “It’s not a subject I enjoy discussing. I was surprised to hear about our… connection.”
Suddenly JJ had to make sure Dr. Ben understood something. “So you know, Dr. Ben, I don’t like talking about it either. I didn’t blame you for not coming back to see me yesterday. I kind of won’t talk about it most of the time. I mean, I drove a few psychologists crazy not talking about it. But I have to ask you something about it. I have to.”
Now Dr. Ben nodded. “Ask away. There are some things, however, I won’t answer.”
JJ felt the respect he already had for Dr. Ben surge within him. This was someone he could talk to; he’d known it the minute Dr. Ben had responded to Aunt Maggie’s comment about the fire. Dr. Ben understood. He wouldn’t pry. He wouldn’t try to figure out JJ, because he didn’t need to.
“Listen, I’ve been having this dream lately. Pretty often, actually. And I think it’s a memory from the day of the fire. Only I can’t be sure—I’m worried it’s something my mind, like, created. That it’s not a memory at all. So I did some research.”
Dr. Ben coughed in surprise. “I’m sorry?”
“Research. Trying to figure out if the details from that day match my dream. But the newspapers and stuff aren’t helping. Only then I heard you say you were the guy who pulled me out of the bathroom. If anyone would know if my dream’s real, you would. I thought—I don’t know….” JJ couldn’t figure out quite how to explain it. “I thought if you could tell me what you saw, maybe I’d know. Maybe I’d know if the dream is real.”
Dr. Ben leaned forward and studied JJ. JJ tried not to squirm. “Do you mind if I ask, JJ, why it makes such a difference? Is it a psychological matter of some kind? Why does it make a difference if this dream is a memory or not?”
JJ frowned. “There’s this detail in the dream. I think it might be important evidence—new evidence. I’ve never heard of it being in this case before. But I haven’t said anything to anyone, because I don’t know for sure that my mind didn’t just make it up or something.”
Dr. Ben nodded and leaned back. “Okay. You’re hoping I can confirm this detail? That I saw it too?”
JJ frowned again. “I don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe you’ll be able to tell me that other things from the dream are real, and then I’ll be able to figure out if that detail’s real. I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I just have this weird feeling that you might be able to help me figure this whole thing out.”
“Oh.” Dr. Ben looked suddenly uncomfortable. “The thing is, JJ, that much of what I remember from that day is nothing more than the chaos that was surrounding us. I’m not sure how much help I’ll really be.”
JJ nodded. He was afraid Dr. Ben would say something like that.
Dr. Ben rapped his desk with his knuckles. “Let’s try this. Would you mind telling me your dream first? Th
en I could simply confirm or deny, as they say, what I do remember. We can go from there.”
JJ didn’t think he was any more thrilled about sharing his dream than Dr. Ben was about listening to it. Well, at least he was finally spilling the story in a doctor’s office. A dozen psychologists had begged for him to do that over the years. Too bad they aren’t here to see it, JJ thought with some smugness.
He took a breath. “Okay. So, this part I remember; it’s not from the dream. We were at the movies together, and I really had to pee. I didn’t want my mom or dad to go with me. I was a pretty independent kid, even though I was only five, and I told them I was old enough to go by myself. And since this is a really safe town and all, they let me. I’ve never really remembered much after that… just faces and… some other stuff.” JJ shuddered. “Then I started having this dream a while ago.
“It starts with me standing in the bathroom of the Bijou Street Movie Theater. I’m in the stall, and I smell something like pine. I push the door open, and there’s this guy standing there. He’s saying ‘I did it!’ over and over again.
“Then he turns around, but I can’t see his face. And something else. Then everything kind of goes black, and I can’t see anything anymore, but I know that everything around me catches on fire.” JJ saw no need to share the part of the dream where the back of his calves were burning… no, smoldering. That part he knew for sure wasn’t just a dream; that part had been locked in his memory, all too vividly, for years.
JJ’s eyes were glued to Dr. Ben. What if Dr. Ben couldn’t remember anything either? But Dr. Ben was staring at JJ like he’d seen a ghost. It felt like a long time before he cleared his throat and spoke.
“Are there any other details, JJ? Anything more specific? The detail you mentioned earlier?”
JJ’s eyes widened a little bit. “Why? Did I say something you remember?”
Dr. Ben twisted his hands into each other, an anxious expression on his face. “I was coming down the hall, back from the lobby, toward Theater Three. I smelled smoke, and as I was nearing the restrooms, a man rushed by me. Then I saw smoke coming from under the restroom door, and I heard your screams. I opened up the door, saw you and the fire surrounding you, and I pulled you out.
“It was chaos by the time I got you out of that restroom. The alarms had gone off and there were people everywhere. We rolled you on the floor and got you out of the theater. I went looking for my daughter.” Dr. Ben rushed through that sentence, and JJ worried for a second that he might stop talking entirely, but Dr. Ben continued: “JJ, when the police found out the fire had come from two places—both Theater Three and the restroom—they questioned me very intensively about the man I saw run from that area. They knew the arsonist had to be in that restroom at some point to start that second blaze. But the man went by me so quickly that I’ve never remembered any details about him, and apparently you haven’t either. Until now. JJ, I think your dream is real. I think you did meet the arsonist in that bathroom that day, and I think whatever detail you’re remembering is also likely to be real.”
Dr. Ben leaned in closer to JJ, the intensity of his expression matching his voice. “You said you can’t see his face, but you can see something else. So what is it you remember, JJ? What detail do you see in the dream?”
JJ didn’t think he’d even been this focused on a conversation in his life. “It’s his hand. There’s something on his hand, Dr. Ben. It’s a huge tattoo, and I could draw it, I can see it so clearly.”
Dr. Ben looked a little white. He cleared his throat. “What’s the tattoo of?”
“Well, that’s the thing. I started to think my mind just invented that, because of what caused the fire. And that made me think maybe I never was in the bathroom with the guy at all. But if you saw him right before you rescued me, I had to have seen him, right? I must have. And I must have really seen the tattoo.” JJ stopped to take a deep breath before he finally added, “It’s a paintbrush. A long, skinny paintbrush.”
Dr. Ben said nothing.
“Yup,” JJ continued, “a paintbrush. It had to be him, Dr. Ben. Who else would use turpentine? And you saw him too. You saw him too.”
Dr. Ben shook his head slowly. “A lot of people died that day, JJ.” His murmured words hung in the air.
“Twenty-eight,” JJ mumbled. The Bijou was a small movie theater; but it was also the only movie theater in Moreville. There had been three movies going on that afternoon, with each theater at least half-filled.
“Lots of people think the arsonist was specifically targeting Theater Three.”
JJ nodded again. Someone had blocked the fire exit from the alley, so it took the people in the theater precious extra minutes to unwedge the exit door and get it open. The fire had been set in the front of the theater leading to that hallway, making it impossible for anyone inside to escape from that direction. The arsonist had almost certainly been targeting that theater.
“I would like nothing better than to find the person who murdered twenty-eight people that day, one of them being my daughter. JJ, will you allow me to call the police and let me give them this information?”
JJ nodded vigorously. “I’d really like that. I mean, I’ve been kinda wanting to call them for a while, but I was afraid it was all in my head, y’know? And I know they’ll just add it to the file, and it might not mean anything yet… but maybe it could, later. It’s something, right?”
Dr. Ben pulled a business card from the holder on his desk. “I’m going to give the police your contact information when I call, so you should probably expect them to be in touch. You’ll need to get those stitches out in a little over a week. Call my office—we can compare notes of what we’ve heard from the investigators, and I’ll get to see how you’re healing.”
JJ wasn’t sure what to do next. He wasn’t a hugger, or even a toucher, really. He finally settled on firmly shaking Dr. Ben’s hand before he left.
He walked home slowly, replaying his conversation with Dr. Ben over and over in his mind. By the time he arrived at the doorstep of the house, the sky was already dark, and Maggie was waiting in the kitchen for him.
“It’s a good thing you’re taking your grounding seriously,” she told him drily. “Also, the police called here looking for you. Anything you want to tell me, JJ?”
That conversation was going to take a while.
Chapter 3
JJ HAD been right a few nights ago—police stations were better when you were there by choice.
Maggie brought him over there the next evening, and they met with Detective Starrow. She was a fit middle-aged woman with bright red hair and dark eyes. JJ was glad she wasn’t one of the original detectives who’d first opened the arson investigation ten years ago. If she had been, she would have remembered JJ from back then, and there probably would have been a lot of embarrassing sympathy and maybe even some hugging or something. But she’d only taken over the case five years ago when the original detective in charge had retired, so she just shook JJ’s hand and said she was happy to meet him.
Since Dr. Ben’s office was the first time in a long time that JJ had recounted the story of that day, and the first time he’d talked about the dream with anyone, it felt really awkward to spill it again in front of Maggie and a complete stranger. Maggie kept squeezing his hand, and JJ had to fight not to pull it away, since he didn’t want Detective Starrow to think he was some kind of weirdo who didn’t like to be touched.
Even if he actually was.
JJ finished up by explaining what the tattoo looked like, and Detective Starrow studied her notes intently. “JJ, it might sound strange, but I’d like to have you describe that tattoo to a sketch artist. I want to share it with tattoo shops around the area and see if we can get any leads there.”
“Okay. So you don’t think I’m making it up, then?”
The detective smiled slightly. “JJ, it wouldn’t be you making it up, it would be your mind. And it’s possible. The mind can be a funny thing. But the fact th
at the details of your dream match so closely to what Dr. Peragena remembers from that day is very intriguing. I’m glad the two of you talked and that you decided to tell us about the tattoo.” She closed her notebook. “It’s been a lot of years since we had any new information in this case. Frankly, I’ll take what I can get. Wait here a second, all right? I’ll see if our sketch artist is here today.”
Maggie grabbed JJ’s hand again. “JJ, I’m so proud of you. I know that wasn’t easy for you.”
JJ smiled slightly. “Uh, Maggie? Did you talk to Darryl yet? Am I going to get to see Penny this weekend?” Usually Darryl brought Penny over to Maggie’s house every other Saturday or Sunday for a few hours. JJ liked it that way. Visits with Penny would have been ruined if he had to worry the whole time about running into Patrick.
Maggie sighed. “I was hoping you’d wait to ask that. I called her today and told her about what happened at the theater. She wasn’t pleased, obviously. She wants to hold off on bringing Penny over until your arrest is cleared up.”
“What? I thought you said that could take months!” JJ was appalled.
“I doubt it will take that long, JJ. I got in touch with a public defender who thinks he can clear the whole thing up in a few weeks.”
JJ fumed silently, and Maggie went for his hand again. “JJ, we knew there was a strong chance this might happen. Darryl isn’t your biggest fan on the best of days. Just keep your nose clean and do what you need to do while we clear this trespassing charge up. We’ll get you and Penny back together.”
JJ couldn’t just let it go, though. Penny had been busy with some Girl Scout stuff for the past few weeks, so he already hadn’t seen her for almost a month. And now it could be another month? Or even longer?
Every Inferno Page 3
