Prom Night in Purgatory

by Amy Harmon

  Johnny slowed and then swung into the spot left open just for him. He opened the heavy door of the Bel Air and stepped out of his pride and joy. The sound of his black boot hitting the ground met with silence. He lit a cigarette like he had all the time in the world and no one was watching.

  He was dressed like some of the other guys – jeans, boots, white tee and black leather jacket, but he seemed suited to his choice where the others looked posed. His dark blond hair swooped high off his forehead, and his blue eyes swept over the kids standing by, or sitting atop, somebody’s Studebaker or someone else’s Lincoln or any one of the various cars and trucks arranged in two lines. Johnny noticed that Irene Honeycutt's pink Cadillac took up two spaces. It was a miracle she hadn't dented a tailfin yet. That baby was so long it could drive in two counties at once. Irene was the only girl in Honeyville who had her very own spankin' new wheels. He wouldn't mind taking that car for a ride, although he’d lost a lot of respect for the girl. She glanced away uncomfortably, and thoughts of Maggie slid into his mind. Damn it all. He was too old for this schoolyard shit.

  Donnie had put new wheels on his truck, and it looked like Carter’s dad had come through on the new carburetor for his old Ford. The last he had seen, it was up on blocks. He would have helped him put it in if he’d known. Johnny let the cars distract him; the cataloging of parts and paint jobs calmed him down and made him forget for just a moment that he was here to bloody a few noses, break a few tail lights, and generally raise Cain.

  But someone had alerted the ladies. Who the hell brought chicks to a rumble? Johnny sighed and tossed his cigarette. Eyeing the school, he thanked his stars that he had graduated, and he would never have to attend the shiny new edifice the whole town was talking about. He would be more than happy if he never had to set foot inside the new Honeyville High.

  The passenger door on his black hot rod opened, and Billy stepped out. He didn't try to imitate Johnny. It would have been laughable if he had. Johnny didn’t want Billy to be like him. Billy wasn’t cool, but he was nice. He didn’t have an attitude, but he had a brain. He might not have girls hanging on him, but he would be able to hang on to a classy lady someday. Johnny was sure of it. Billy was worth two of Johnny, and Johnny was proud of it.

  Billy wore his thick, black-rimmed glasses, and peered through them nervously at the crowd that had collected in the brand new parking lot. His nose and lip were swollen from the altercation earlier in the evening. He wore a button-up, collared shirt and slacks, though it was sweltering out. Of course, Johnny had his jacket on, but that was all for the intimidation factor. Billy had insisted on coming along, knowing that Johnny was more likely to remain calm if his little brother was with him. Johnny had told him to stay home and had expected Billy to give in to his stern command, but for once Billy had been adamant, knowing that Johnny was set on picking a fight all because of him.

  "You lookin' for Roger, Johnny?" someone called out. Johnny didn't bother to answer. They all knew he was. Johnny strolled down the line of cars and stopped in front of Irene Honeycutt's pink ride. Irene didn’t smile, but her girlfriends giggled and elbowed each other. If he wanted to, he could crook his little finger at any one of the twittering females perched on Irene's car and be hot and heavy in five minutes flat. But he wasn't interested in Irene's friends; none of them could hold a candle to Maggie.

  Irene looked different. She had always been a beautiful girl, but there was a stiffness and a strain in her eyes that had never been there before. She looked afraid. From what he'd seen, Johnny wasn't so sure the blue-eyed brunette was that into Roger, but who was he to question it? Roger was smart, rich, and popular, and Irene's daddy sure seemed to have plans for him. Johnny had plans for him, too. He was going to beat the hell out of Roger and all his boys and swear that it would be ten times worse the next time anyone messed with Billy Kinross.

  "He isn't here, Johnny!" a plump redhead named Paula called out, and Irene leveled a look at her that Johnny couldn't decipher. The redhead squirmed nervously and ducked her head when another girl poked her in the ribs.

  Johnny zoned in and moved close to the nervous little carrot-top. Tipping her chin up with a long finger, Johnny spoke loud and clear.

  "Then where is he, Pidge?"

  Paula stammered a little, and her cheeks flamed as bright as her hair. "I, um, I'm not sure…he just wanted us to tell you he had better things to do…or something…I think. Um…didn't he say that, Irene?"

  "Then what are all of you doing here?" Johnny jerked his head, indicating the crowd, his eyes meeting Irene's, demanding an answer.

  She didn't respond, but her blue eyes were wide, and the expression on her face had him smelling a rat. The crowd shifted uncomfortably, and someone cleared his throat. A few of the guys that Johnny called friends started asking questions and calling out, and everyone seemed to chime in at once-

  "We haven't seen him Johnny...”

  "Somebody said they thought he was here!"

  "Tommy swears he saw his wheels parked here an hour ago!"

  "Go home, Johnny!" someone else called out. "No one wants trash like you or your brother hangin' around here!"

  The voice came from back in the crowd and Carter and Jimbo were on it immediately, a scuffle breaking out before Johnny could even see who it was. Like it had been carefully orchestrated, Roger Carlton’s friends were suddenly swarming out of the backs of trucks and cars. Fists were pumping and insults flying as Carter and Jimbo were swallowed up in the fracas. Donnie and Luke were in there somewhere, too. Luke's bright hair and superior height made him visible for a moment before someone pulled him down.

  "Hey! Hey!" Johnny shouted out as girls screamed, and a few random horns bellowed as people scrambled to jump into their cars or out of their cars, depending on whether or not they wanted in or out of the trouble that had erupted.

  Turning to Billy, Johnny swung his arm out fiercely, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him in close. "Stay in the car, little brother. These guys don't fight fair, and it's gonna get ugly. I can't worry about you getting the crap beat out of you while I'm wailing on Carlton."

  "Just let it go, Johnny,” Billy pleaded. "We shouldn't have come here at all. I have the willies about all of this, like cooties marching up my spine or somethin'."

  "Just stay out of it, Billy!" Johnny insisted again, releasing Billy’s shirt and shoving his brother back toward his car. "Take my car and head down the road a ways. I'll meet you in an hour at The Malt."

  "What if I get caught? You know I ain’t got proof! And what if I wreck your car?"

  "You'll be fine! Just go!" Screams and shouts pulled Johnny's attention from his little brother, and he shrugged out of his leather jacket, threw it at Billy, and took off at a run, barely intercepting an attempt to brain Carter with a piece of a two-by-four someone had snagged from the construction debris. Alarm sounds were jangling through Johnny's head as he realized these guys weren't playing around. In his periphery, he noticed cars peeling out as the ladies apparently realized this was not a place they wanted to be. Good. One less thing he had to worry about. And there was plenty to be concerned about because Johnny and his friends were sorely out numbered.

  ***

  Maggie huddled in the front seat of Irene’s car, hiding behind the people that perched and stood around the car, shielding her from anyone looking in, namely anyone who might recognize her.

  Her heart had slammed into her chest when she had heard Johnny speak. She tried to imagine him, jeans and boots and slicked back hair, demanding to know where Roger Carlton was. The girls had giggled when he had come close, and she could almost feel their tension as he had tried to coax a little help from the redhead, who had gone on to lie to him. At least she hadn’t sent him into the school. If Maggie could just keep Johnny and Billy out of the school. Then what? She chided herself. She didn’t know what would happen. She might make things worse. And if events didn’t transpire exactly as they had originally, Maggie would never meet Johnn
y Kinross. He would be lost to her.

  Screams broke out, and Maggie watched as people started to scramble to their cars. She had to get out of Irene’s Cadillac. She couldn’t very well be sitting there when Irene and her friends piled back in. She pushed open the passenger door and hobbled out of the car on one red heel, not knowing where she was going but knowing her conduit was about to be invaded. She turned in circles, looking for a place to shield herself.

  Maggie’s gaze fell on Johnny’s Bel Air. It sat serenely while cars and trucks peeled out around it, screeches and horns blaring the excitement of raging youth. Maggie seemed to have found the best hiding place of all. She was bumped and jostled as people scurried here and there, and nobody really stopped to take a good look, though she was wearing a bright red dress and only one shoe. She watched as Billy Kinross yanked open the door to his brother’s car and slid behind the wheel, a look of pure horror stamped on his young face. He seemed unsure of what to do first and sat with his hands on the wheel, looking around for his first clue. He didn’t have time to figure it out. Glass and metal complained mightily as Roger Carlton attacked Johnny’s car with a baseball bat. He swung again and then again, battering the shiny black showpiece. The front window exploded, and Billy dove out of sight.

  Maggie screamed, the sound high-pitched and afraid, carrying across the distance to Johnny’s car, causing Roger to pause mid-swing. His eyes lit on her like a rabid wolf, and Maggie froze in her tracks. He instantly dropped the bat and strode toward her, pulling a little gun out of the back of his waistband. He pointed it at her, and his hand didn’t shake.

  “Lizzie says your name is Maggie, and she doesn’t know anything more.” He said this in a high pitched soprano, mimicking the little girl. “She said I would never find you.” Roger smiled, that slow creepy smile that didn’t reveal any teeth. “How nice of you to find me.”

  Maggie couldn’t take her eyes from the gun. She should scream or run, but deep down she believed Roger would shoot anyway. And he was close enough to make missing unlikely. The parking lot was still half full of kids who had decided to participate in or be spectators to the battle that raged beyond her right shoulder. If Roger did miss, someone else could very easily be hit. None of this was supposed to happen! Billy had been the one with the gun...hadn’t he?

  ***

  Johnny forced his way through the swinging arms, landing a few shots and taking more than a couple on his way out of the writhing mass of fists and feet. Just as he thought he would break free, someone flew into him, knocking him down and wrapping him up in the thrashing legs and arms of several people. By the time Johnny had fought his way back out, his friends had the fight well in hand, and Johnny knew it was only a matter of minutes before the whole thing was over. But Carlton still hadn’t shown. Johnny had something to communicate to the bastard, and he wasn’t leaving until his message had been delivered loud and clear.

  Johnny’s eyes swung left and right, and then swung right again and stopped cold. His car was still parked where he’d left her, but the driver's side door was hanging open as if Billy had suddenly changed his mind about leaving and bailed out in a hurry. The doors were dented and the front head lights were broken in. It looked as if someone had taken a bat to the windows, too. Rage pounded in Johnny's temples. He had no doubt who had inflicted the damage.

  He was going to hurt Roger Carlton when he found him. And where the hell had Billy gone?! He was supposed to take the car and go! Then Johnny saw him. The walkway to the entrance of the school was lit up, and Billy Kinross was running toward the front doors at full speed.

  “Billy,” Johnny roared, yelling at the top of his lungs. Billy didn’t even turn, but slipped through the double doors like the late bell had already chimed and he was tardy for class; the doors had been left unlocked. Something cold and desperate slithered down Johnny’s spine. He knew that what waited beyond those doors was something he wanted no part of -- and he had no choice but to head for them at a run.

  The double-doored entrance opened into a large three story rotunda with gleaming tiles and a great staircase that swept upward to twin balconies that edged the second and third floors.

  "Billy!' Johnny called out, suddenly uncertain as to where to go. The school seemed silent and untouched, and all at once he doubted the wisdom in coming through the doors. If the cops caught him in here he would have more than a few bruises and a black eye to explain. Breaking and entering maybe, even though the doors had been open...

  A gunshot rang out, interrupting his second thoughts. Johnny ran forward, taking the stairs three at a time, hurling himself up the wide expanse. Oh, God, please no....no... no....the words pounded through his head as he cleared the stairs and skidded to a stop on the third floor, eyes searching both ways down a long wide hallway that ran beyond the balcony to corridors and distant rooms. Suddenly, Billy was running toward him, his shirt untucked, his glasses gone, his face a mask of terror.

  "He's got a gun, Johnny. He's got a gun!" Billy looked over his shoulder and then past Johnny, as if expecting a full on attack from every direction.

  "Who's got a gun?" Johnny was looking for blood and bullet holes. Billy seemed unharmed, but he was clearly terrified. "Billy!" Johnny reached out and grabbed onto his frantic brother, detaining him, trying to muscle him back toward the stairs. He needed to get him out of the school.

  "Roger Carlton has a gun! He shot out a window back there! A bunch of his friends were in here, and when they saw the gun they ran! It made him mad, I guess. He shot out one of the windows, and he's got a girl, Johnny! I don’t think he saw me, but I just can’t leave her there. I heard him tell her he’s going to shoot her!”

  “What girl? Who?” Call him cold-hearted, but Johnny decided he would worry about the girl after Billy was out of danger. Again he tried to steer Billy back toward the stairs.

  “I don’t know her. I saw her once with Lizzie Honeycutt.” Billy rubbed his head in distress. Johnny’s stomach fell to his knees, and his breath caught in his throat. He knew what Billy was going to say next. “Roger called her Maggie.”

  ***

  Roger had taken her into the school. Maggie had walked alongside him demurely. She hadn’t fought or even protested. If she walked quietly, without drawing attention, she could save Billy and Johnny. Billy didn’t have a gun. He was still in the car. He had no reason to follow Roger. She could save him. She would save him. Roger held her arm roughly and walked like he had big plans.

  Roger’s friends had been alarmed by the gun and scattered every which way, running down the unfamiliar halls and away from the madman they had aided. Roger shouted, shooting wildly, and the glass on a new window pane exploded into the classroom he had taken her to. The police would be coming now. She just needed to find a way to keep herself alive until then. Roger had other plans.

  “I think I’m going to kill you, Maggie,” he sneered. “It’s perfect really. I know Kinross has a thing for you. It’ll upset him that you’re dead. I’ll tell the police he was the one who took the gun. I got it out of the trunk of a car he was working on. They’ll believe me. And he’ll go to jail, and his mother will suffer -- maybe worse than if I shot him, which was what I intended. And of course, there’s the bonus of actually watching you die. You ruined everything. Irene says she loves me....but she lies. She wants to get away from me. And it’s all your fault!”

  “Johnny doesn’t even know we’re in here,” Maggie replied softly. “Your friends saw YOU with the gun. You’re here, he’s not. Chief Bailey won’t have a hard time putting two and two together. You will be the one to go to jail. You’re eighteen, aren’t you?” Maggie’s mind raced to find something that might scare him. “You might even get the electric chair.” It was Texas in 1958. She was pretty sure that was the method they used for the death penalty.

  “Billy followed us in. Didn’t you see him?” Roger snickered. “Johnny won’t be far behind. He’s rather protective of the little guy.” The hand that wasn’t holding the gun
touched his bruised jaw gingerly, as if remembering just how protective.

  Maggie didn’t know Billy had followed them in. She had drawn him there, and he would draw Johnny. Fear slammed through her. No! She wouldn’t let Roger have Johnny. She whirled on Roger, pushing him with such rage and aggression that he stumbled back, the gun falling awkwardly from his hand. The smirk smeared across his mouth still remained, almost as if he couldn’t believe she had dared cross him. In a flash, Maggie was out of the room, running down the hallway, her red shoe abandoned in flight like a desperate Cinderella, racing against time.

  She thought she would hear the gun explode behind her, but she neither slowed nor swerved, flying down the corridors she had seen engulfed in flames in another time. And she wasn’t running from her prince but to him, hoping against hope that time was on her side.

  The main hallway on the third floor made a large circle, looping around from the center rotunda’s highest balcony. Maggie wanted to scream but knew her cries would only call Johnny to her and toward the threat that pursued her, so she fled silently, her legs pumping and her bare feet slapping against the glossy new floors.

  Johnny stood by the balcony rail. His back was to her as he tried to usher his frantic brother down the stairs. The hallway in which she ran was dark; the brush of moonlight filtered in from the high windows left shadows all around. She thought she could hear Roger behind her but couldn’t separate his breathing from her own. She tossed a glance over her shoulder, expecting to see that he was within an arms length of bringing her down. The hallway beyond was silent and completely empty.

  “Johnny!” Billy cried out, pointing at Maggie as she hurtled down the hallway toward them. Johnny swung to greet her, and his face was grim and hard.

  “Maggie!” The relief in his voice echoed down the hallway and into her heart.