The Quarry

by Mark Allan Gunnells

  Norman was tired of the snotty attitude most of these kids gave him. At 22, he wasn’t that much older than they were, he just hadn’t been lucky enough to have the same opportunities they’d been handed. But he was working on it.

  * * *

  Dale waited until the security guard was out of sight before vaulting over the barricade and jumping into the Quarry.

  Chapter Four

  EMILIO SAT IN Public Speaking, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. Actually they felt more like bats. Hell, maybe pterodactyls wouldn’t be too much of an exaggeration.

  He didn’t like attention focused on him, so having to stand up and deliver a speech to a classroom full of other students was the stuff of nightmares. He had taken this course, a general education requirement, during his freshman year to get it out of the way. He didn’t want the class hanging over his head like a storm cloud for his entire college experience. Now, as he sat waiting to deliver his speech, he wished he’d put the class off longer.

  At the podium, Rebecca Gaines delivered her speech on Limestone during the Vietnam era. Emilio was up next, and he found himself sweating, dampening the pages of his speech as he shuffled them and read back over what he’d written. He knew that no matter how much he prepared, he’d still end up stuttering and tripping over his words once he was up there with all those eyes trained on him. He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm his nerves with little success.

  After Rebecca finished, the class applauded politely, and she returned to her desk. As Emilio lurched to his feet, he knocked his speech onto the floor, scattering the pages. Enduring snickers, he bent down and gathered up the papers, putting them back in the proper order. He’d numbered the pages, but still struggled with the task, numbers swimming in his numbed gaze. Pages in order, he took a deep breath and trudged to the front of the room, feeling like a mutineer walking the gangplank. At the podium, he shifted from one foot to the other for a moment, wiped beads of sweat from his forehead, then risked a quick peek at the class.

  Near the back of the room, Patty gave him a big smile and a thumbs up.

  At least someone is in my corner.

  Dale hadn’t come to class this morning, and Emilio hadn’t realized until this moment just how much his friend’s face helped quell nerves and keep him on track. Dale’s absence left Emilio adrift, like a ship without an anchor. And Patty, regardless of being nice and good-hearted, was a poor substitute.

  Dr. Nance cleared her throat. “Mr. Gambrell, sometime today would be nice.”

  A spattering of laughter.

  Emilio looked down at his speech, thinking how bland and dry it was, basically nothing more than a list of dates and facts. He wanted to speed through it, keeping his eyes on the pages, but he knew his grade would suffer if he didn’t take his time and make eye contact with the audience.

  Taking another fortifying breath, looking up to see Patty wave and give him two thumbs up this time, he forced himself to begin.

  * * *

  Connie walked into Montgomery Hall with a wide grin plastered on her face. It made her skin feel stretched and tight but she couldn’t seem to get her lips to take on any other configuration. It was silly, allowing her mood to be dictated to this degree by a guy. This wasn’t like her at all. Still, the smile remained.

  She was a few minutes early for English Composition, so she stopped by the restroom and bought a Diet Dr. Pepper from the soda machine before heading up to the second floor. She passed several students on her way up the stairs, one of them her roommate.

  “How’d your speech go?” Connie asked as they passed.

  “Pretty good, but you might want to try and cheer Emilio up a bit.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  As Patty was swept away on the tide of students, she glanced up at Connie and said, “Titanic.”

  She found Emilio already in class. “Hey Em, what’s shaking?”

  Emilio looked up at her, returned his gaze to his desktop, then quickly snapped his eyes back to her face. “Can I take it by that smile that you aced your Math test?”

  “What? Oh, I don’t know, I think so, but that’s not why I’m smiling.”

  “Do tell.”

  “Dale called me this morning just after I got out of bed.”

  This perked Emilio up. “Really? He wasn’t in class again this morning.”

  “I know, turns out he’s sick. Caught a cold from his little after hours dip in the lake the other night.”

  “I told him the water was too cold.”

  “Anyway, he said he feels pretty shitty so he’s going to stay home for the next couple of days. He’s also going to call Coach Harris and explain everything. He apologized profusely for being so crabby with us yesterday and promised to take us both out for an expensive meal, his treat, when he feels better.”

  Connie left out the part where Dale had told her how beautiful she was and how much he couldn’t wait to strip her naked and make love to her again. That was just between the two of them and the main reason for the grin she couldn’t stop wearing.

  “So he’s really okay then?” Emilio said. “Did he say anything about what happened to him in the Quarry?”

  “Yes, he told me he got tangled up in some vines and roots down there, and knowing how little air he had left, he started to freak out. He was embarrassed—you know how he likes to always seem in control of every situation, which was why he didn’t want to talk about it.”

  Emilio exhaled forcefully, and it seemed all the tension leaked from his body on that breath. “Thank God. I was starting to think the worst.”

  “Just a little cold,” Connie said. “He’ll be back to himself in no time.”

  * * *

  Alone in the house, his three roommates in class, Dale sat on his bedroom floor, leaning against his dresser, wearing the same clothes from the night before. Stiff, foul-smelling fabric, previously drenched, scratched against his flesh, but he couldn’t find the motivation to change. Or do much else.

  He’d forced himself to call Connie this morning and apologize for the way he’d treated her and Emilio. He had said all the right things, told her exactly what he knew she wanted to hear, but his heart hadn’t been in it. Not that he didn’t care for Connie, but he’d felt as if he were reading a script. He’d also thrown in a handful of lies.

  For one, he wasn’t sick; he just didn’t want to deal with people right now. He’d also lied about calling Coach Harris. He’d honestly meant to, but by the time he’d gotten off the phone with Connie, the energy needed for further discourse was a distant, dying dream. Let Harris be pissed at him—he’d deal with that hornet’s nest later. The last lie he’d told had been about the Quarry.

  Truth was he didn’t really know what had happened. There was a blank in his memory, a hole, as if he’d blacked out or something. He remembered diving into the dark water and swimming downward, and then there was nothing until he broke the surface and Dale pulled him up. He’d lost a lot of expensive gear and couldn’t even explain to his father how it happened. And ever since then he hadn’t felt like himself. Usually easygoing, his temper was on a short fuse now, and he was in danger of exploding on anyone who even looked at him too long. He’d isolated himself in his room, even avoiding his roommates, and he had this feeling that there was something he was supposed to be doing though he didn’t know what.

  And then last night he’d experienced another chunk of lost time. Near midnight, while a party raged in the living room, Dale hadn’t been able to take the noise and the proximity to so many people a minute longer. He’d gotten dressed and left the house, walking onto campus despite the downpour. By the Quarry, staring out at the water—he remembered that. And he vaguely remembered the redheaded security guard coming by and saying something. Then, several hours later, he was in his front yard, cold and dripping wet. The house party and the rain were gone, and so was a chunk of time.

  “What’s happening to me?” he said aloud, his voice sounding strange and unfamiliar to
his own ears.

  Chapter Five

  “DID YOU FUCK her or not?” Leslie shouted.

  Steve giggled and shook his head. “Girl, you’re crazier than a shithouse rat.”

  “Be that as it may, it still doesn’t answer my question.”

  Steve was sitting on the futon between Brock and Zeke, three little monkeys that saw, heard, and spoke all kinds of evil; they were passing a joint. Dale, the only one of Steve’s roommates she could stomach, was shut up in his bedroom, sick. It was late Wednesday night, Leslie had an early exam in the morning and needed to get some sleep, but had trekked to the lacrosse players’ house after a troublesome and enlightening conversation with her roommate Sheryl.

  Taking a toke off the joint, his eyelids fluttering with pleasure, Steve seemed to melt into the cushion, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He held out the smoldering roach to her and said, “Smoke with us, babe.”

  “No thanks.”

  “Then at least have a beer or something,” Brock said. “You need to relax.”

  “I don’t want to relax, I want an answer to my question. Steve, maybe we should discuss this in private.”

  “You weren’t worried about privacy when you came barging in here accusing me of slipping it to that skank bitch roommate of yours.”

  “So you’re denying it?”

  “Hell yes I’m denying it,” Steve said, the lethargy starting to leech from his voice even as the drug-induced fog lifted slightly from his eyes, burned away by anger that seemed genuine. “If I so much as touched that cunt, my dick would probably turn black and fall off. What would even give you the idea that I’d fucked around with Sheryl?”

  Leslie crossed her arms and tilted her head. “Oh, maybe because Sheryl said you did.”

  “And I say I didn’t! Why’re you gonna believe her over me?”

  “Because she knows about your birthmark,” Leslie said with all the melodrama of a lawyer revealing the most damning piece of evidence in a murder trial. “You know, the little red blotch high up on your inner thigh shaped like a violin. How else would she know about that?”

  Steve dissolved in another fit of giggles, the other two monkeys joining in. It was infuriating, but Leslie kept quiet, hoping her silence would force Steve to respond. Finally he rolled his eyes and said, “I went streaking through your goddamn dorm a couple of days ago, genius. Everybody in Eunice Ford saw me bare-ass naked.”

  “Don’t even try to feed me that bullshit, Steve. That birthmark is practically up under your fucking sack. Only way Sheryl could have gotten that good a look at it is if she was at eye-level with your damn pecker.”

  Zeke, who had just taken a swallow of beer, suddenly coughed and spewed the brew all over his lap. “Eye to eye with old one-eye,” he said, quaking with laughter.

  Leslie was quaking too, but not with laughter. “This isn’t funny.”

  “You’re right,” Steve said, getting to his feet, swaying slightly, then shuffling toward her. “It’s not funny, it’s sad. I promise you, I never fucked Sheryl.”

  “Okay Mr. Semantics, did you let her blow you?”

  Steve froze in his tracks for a moment, and he blinked several times, his mouth working for a good thirty seconds before he finally said, “Uh, of course not.”

  Leslie suddenly felt as if a hand had gripped her heart and started to squeeze. Her breathing became shallow and a single tear slid down her cheek. “You cheating bastard! You’ve never been able to lie worth shit, especially when you’re stoned.”

  From the futon, Brock said, “Dude, she’s right. I’m on your side and even I didn’t believe you.”

  Steve shot his friend a withering glare then turned his eyes back to Leslie. “Babe, you don’t understand, it was an accident.”

  “So your cock accidentally fell into her mouth, that’s what you’re telling me?”

  “I was drunk, I didn’t know what I was doing.”

  “Digging yourself deeper,” Zeke muttered.

  Leslie started for the door. “I’ve heard everything I need to hear.”

  “Babe, please, let me explain—”

  “Don’t ever call me ‘Babe’ again,” Leslie hissed, whirling around, the fierceness in her eyes causing Steve to stumble back a step. “In fact, don’t ever speak to me again.”

  Before Steve could respond, Leslie was out the door, slamming it behind her. She stood on the lawn for a moment, weeping quietly and staring up at the stars. The breeze was chilly, raising goosebumps on her arms. She waited for a moment more, ashamed to admit to herself that she was hoping Steve would run out of the house after her. When he didn’t, and more muted laughter bled through the windows, she took a deep breath and stalked toward campus.

  As she walked, Leslie’s tears dissipated in the heat of her rage, a rage that was directed less at Steve and more at herself. She couldn’t say she’d exactly been blindsided. When she’d first met Steve, she knew he was a partier, someone who took nothing seriously, not even relationships. In fact, this had been what initially attracted her to him, and she’d told herself that she was going in with her eyes wide open, not expecting anything more than a casual fling.

  And yet she’d fallen for him. Hard. She’d been warned by many, even Dale, that Steve was not the faithful type, and Steve had certainly made no promises to the contrary. But she’d allowed herself to believe there had been more to their relationship. “Stupid,” she chided herself. “Stupid, stupid.”

  Leslie wanted to chalk this up as a learning experience. Wanted to vow she’d be smarter next time. Only it wasn’t that simple, not now. Not with the baby.

  She’d suspected for the past couple of weeks, but the pregnancy test earlier tonight had confirmed it. She’d told no one yet except for her roommate, and Sheryl had rewarded that confidence by confessing her dalliance with Steve. Nice timing.

  So here she was, not yet twenty and pregnant, no boyfriend, her previously bright future now eclipsed by dread. She was smarter than this. She and Steve had always been careful…except for that one time after the Daughtry concert. He’d been out of condoms but promised to pull out before he came. Apparently he’d been a little too slow. She’d known it was stupid and risky at the time, but she’d had a few too many beers and Steve had looked so hot in his tight jeans. And now she was a walking billboard for the dangers of unprotected sex.

  “Leslie.”

  A startled yelp escaped her lips at the sound of her name. She turned around quickly, half-expecting to find Steve trailing behind her. Instead, Dale stepped out of the shadows into the light of a nearby streetlamp.

  “Jesus, Dale, you scared me half to death.”

  A disarming smile curled his lips. “Sorry about that, didn’t mean to.”

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “I heard what went down between you and Steve, so I snuck out the back and followed you. Figured you might need someone to talk to.”

  “I thought you were sick.”

  “On the mend, I guess,” Dale said with a shrug.

  “Oh, I get it. You’re just a big faker wanting a little vacation from classes.”

  Dale clasped his hands to his chest as if just hit with an arrow. “Bull’s-eye.”

  “Can’t say I blame you, I could use a break myself.”

  “I tried to warn you about Steve. I mean, he’s my buddy and all but he treats women like disposable tissue. Use ’em, toss ’em, pluck a new one.”

  Leslie felt tears near the surface again but fought them back. “I should have listened to you, that’s for sure.”

  Dale stepped closer and enfolded her in his arms. It was unexpected but felt good, so Leslie leaned into the embrace, breathing in the scent of his cologne and…something underneath, an earthy smell that put her in mind of childhood and making mud pies in the backyard. His arms were strong and made her feel secure.

  “Want me to walk you back to campus?”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said. But she thought, Don’t
listen to me, please walk me back.

  “I don’t mind at all. In fact, I might take you to my favorite spot on the backside of the Quarry. Has a great view of campus from there.”

  Leslie stood there for a moment, looking at Dale’s handsome face haloed by the streetlamp’s glow. “What about Connie? She might get the wrong idea if she were to find out.”

  Leaning forward and speaking in a whisper, Dale said, “Then we’ll just have to keep it between us.”

  Leslie felt torn. Dale was damn good-looking and one of the nicest guys at Limestone, but he was also taken. Leslie didn’t know Connie well, but she didn’t want to fool around with some other girl’s boyfriend, especially considering what had just happened to her. And yet she couldn’t deny that the idea of doing something with Steve’s roommate held a certain satisfaction, an appropriate revenge. But did she really want to be that petty?

  “Shall we?” Dale asked, holding out his hand.

  Leslie hesitated a moment before taking it. “I’ll let you walk me back to the dorm, but I think I’ll skip the detour around the Quarry.”

  Dale smiled at her, his face disappearing into shadow as they left the range of the streetlamp. “We’ll see.”

  * * *

  It was past 3 a.m. when Sheryl Blanton finally decided to go to bed. She’d been waiting up for her roommate to get back so that she could apologize and try to salvage their friendship, if that was even possible at this point.

  She and Leslie, both juniors, had met freshman year and become almost instant friends. Sophomore year, they had arranged to be roommates and become practically inseparable, not two distinct entities but some sci-fi Sheryl/Leslie hybrid. Sheslie. Sheryl was an only child, and Leslie had only brothers, so they were surrogate sisters for one another. They had the same taste in clothes, music, movies, food.

  And apparently men.

  Sheryl had never meant for it to happen. Sure, Steve was attractive, but she would never dream of betraying Leslie like that. But then at the Halloween party in Eunice Ford last semester, Sheryl had been dressed as a sexy witch, the costume consisting of a pointy black hat and a tight, revealing black dress. Steve had been Tarzan, wearing nothing but a leopard-print loincloth. The alcohol had flown freely, as well as some choice weed, and Sheryl had somehow found herself in a locked bathroom with Steve. Leslie had been somewhere at the party, but Sheryl hadn’t cared as she’d dropped to her knees and stuck her head under his loincloth.