Trey groaned. “Jesus.”
Jake glanced sideways at him. “What’s wrong?”
Trey’s face twisted with worry. “I know that house. One of my best friends lives there. Will Mackeson. Fuck.”
Jake watched the footage of sheet-covered bodies on stretchers being loaded into ambulances with increasing dread. The names of the dead hadn’t been released yet, but things didn’t look good for Trey’s friend. One of the reporters said, “According to a police source, there is no one alive in the residence.” The reporter’s permed blonde hair shifted minutely in a stiff evening breeze. “Very grim news, indeed, for a town that’s already endured so much tragedy this evening.”
The brothers flinched when the phone rang. Again. It had been ringing all night, and Jake was tired of answering calls from scoop-hungry reporters. What part of “No comment” didn’t these piranhas understand? This time, he stayed where he was. The ringing continued until the answering machine picked up, and yet another reporter left a message and a string of phone numbers.
Jake pushed a button and the television screen went black. He set the remote on an end table and turned to face Trey, whose limp posture made him resemble a rag doll at the other end of the sofa. Trey’s eyes were red and his eyelids hovered at half-mast.
“Why don’t you go on to bed? You can take Stu’s room. Come on.” He got to his feet. “I’ll show you where everything is. We’ll crash and start dealing with all this shit tomorrow.”
Trey’s posture changed in an instant. He sat up straight and scooted to the edge of the sofa. He stared up at Jake, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and excitement. “Not yet, okay? I have to tell you some things. You won’t believe any of it, but please listen. There’s this girl-”
Then some kind of seizure rippled through him, distending his jaw and making his eyes and veins bulge and his body shake. The fit lasted just a moment. All at once, Trey’s limbs stopped jerking and awareness returned to his eyes. As he looked at Jake, his eyes were brimming with tears. “She’s back!” He gave his head several emphatic shakes and wailed like a baby.
Then he screamed.
Jake was scared shitless. What had he just seen? Trey was too coherent for that to have been an actual seizure. Probably it was just a delayed reaction to all the day’s trauma. But was Jake really prepared to care for someone as obviously disturbed as his half brother? He wanted to do it. It felt right to do it. But maybe this was a job for professionals. Maybe the kid should be under observation somewhere for a few days, until his mental condition stabilized. It didn’t sound unreasonable, but just thinking it made Jake feel guilty. He had a duty, a solemn obligation, here. He was all the kid had left.
“Trey…are you okay?”
Trey sniffled. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I think I’ll be all right.”
“You sure? You mentioned a girl. Who-”
“Nothing.” Trey stood and tried on a smile that looked false. “You shouldn’t listen to me right now. You’re right. I am tired. I need to sleep.”
Jake eyed him suspiciously, but said, “Fine, we’ll let it go for now. But tomorrow I want you to tell me about Myra. Okay?”
Trey flinched at the mention of her name. He shrugged. “Okay.” His gaze went to the floor, and for a moment his demeanor reminded Jake of the way he’d been at Jolene’s house this afternoon. “I guess.”
Jake wondered whether he should change his mind about waiting till tomorrow. It was easy to put difficult things off. Too easy. He had a lot of personal experience in that regard. It was one thing to make bad choices in his own life. It used to be, he wasn’t hurting anybody but himself if he decided to take a drink. That wasn’t the case anymore. Whether he liked it or not, he had responsibilities and he was determined to live up to them. Still, he couldn’t see any harm in letting the poor bastard have some rest before being made to deal with the hard stuff.
“Look at me, Trey.”
Trey shoved his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Then, as if it took tremendous focus, he raised his head, very slowly, and looked Jake in the eye.
Jake nodded. “Good. You and I are going to talk about some serious things tomorrow, and that includes your girlfriend. Got it?”
Trey shrugged. “Sure.”
“Great. Let’s go get you settled.”
Jake returned to the living room a few minutes later. He was relieved to have his brother out of the way for the rest of the evening. He needed some time to decompress, to finally step down from crisis mode. A beer would hit the spot right about now. He considered going into the kitchen to fetch one, but, instead, he settled into a recliner, aimed the remote at the television, and watched some more of the news.
Two black-and-white photos, probably yearbook pictures, filled the screen. At the bottom of the screen, the words, ARMED AND DANGEROUS. A reporter was speaking: “The suspects are Kelsey Hargrove, age seventeen, and William Mackeson, also age seventeen. Police are advising citizens not to approach the boys, but to call police immediately if they are sighted.”
“Fuck.” Jake was very glad that Trey wasn’t awake to see this. “The world has gone insane.”
The latest revelation turned his thoughts again to alcohol. Alcohol was good in these situations. It eliminated problems by blotting them from consciousness. The effect was temporary, of course, but that rarely swayed him. He imagined the taste of cold beer filling his mouth, and the shivery sensation of anticipated pleasure almost sent him to the kitchen to fetch a bottle.
But he stayed where he was. He stared some more at the television. The sensational coverage brought to mind previous tragedies, the mass killings at Columbine and Virginia Tech, and he was struck by how surreal it was to have a personal connection to one of these televised real-life dramas. And he thought some more about his responsibilities to Trey. For the first time since arriving in Rockville, he allowed himself to think about the year of sobriety he’d flushed down the drain. He thought of AA meetings. He remembered reciting the Serenity Prayer while holding hands in a circle. And he recalled the new sense of confidence and peace that had come into his life during that year.
Gone, now.
The most important accomplishment of his adult life and he’d trashed it, surrendering himself to the darkness again with hardly a struggle.
Two days had elapsed.
Two drops in a very large bucket.
Nothing, really.
He could reverse the damage. He could get back on track. He was sober, right now, and he could stay that way if he so chose. If he had the strength.
He heard a door slam somewhere in the house, then a jangle of keys, and he turned toward the kitchen.
“I’m home!”
Jake smiled.
Kristen.
Just knowing she was here made him feel better. He looked forward to holding her again. To kissing her. To, yes, making love with her. He felt a twinge of guilt, but this time it had little power. There was nothing wrong with the way she made him feel. Nothing wrong at all with how much he desired her. Not really. They’d known each other only a very short time, true, but the intense, instant chemistry between them rendered that meaningless. And Kristen was right. There was nothing wrong in giving yourself over to passion. And losing yourself in a new romance was certainly a better way to escape reality than booze.
He called out to her: “I’m in the living room!”
She came into the room through the archway behind him. The faint whiff of perfume that preceded her intensified his desire for her. She leaned over the recliner, kissed his cheek, and said, “I missed you.”