8Ronnie
Blaze led the way to the diner Ronnie had seen on her walk through the business district, and Ronnie had to admit that it did have some charm, particularly if you were fond of the 1950s.
There was an old-fashioned counter flanked with stools, the floor was black and white tiles, and cracked red vinyl booths lined the walls. Behind the counter, the menu was written on a chalkboard, and as far as Ronnie could tell, the only change to it in the last thirty years had been the prices.
Blaze ordered a cheeseburger, a chocolate shake, and French fries; Ronnie couldnt decide and ended up ordering only a Diet Coke. She was hungry, but she wasnt exactly sure what kind of oil they used in their deep fryer, and neither, it seemed, was anyone else at the diner. Being a vegetarian wasnt always easy, and there were times when she wanted to give up the whole thing.
Like when her stomach was growling. Like right now.
But she wouldnt eat here. She couldnt eat here, not because she was a vegetarian-on-principle kind of person, but because she was vegetarian-because-she-didnt-want-to-feel-sick kind of person. She didnt care what other people ate; it was just that whenever she thought about where meat actually came from, shed imagine a cow standing in a meadow or Babe the pig, and shed feel herself getting nauseated.
Blaze seemed happy, though. After she placed her order, she leaned back in the booth.
What do you think about the place? she asked.
Its neat. Its kind of different.
Ive been coming here since I was a kid. My dad used to bring me every Sunday after church for a chocolate shake. Theyre the best. They get their ice cream from some tiny place in Georgia, but its amazing. You should get one.
Im not hungry.
Youre lying, Blaze said. I heard your stomach growling, but whatever. Its your loss.
But thanks for this.
No big deal.
Blaze smiled. So what happened last night? Are you like famous or something?
Why would you ask that?
Because of the cop and the way he singled you out. There had to be a reason.
Ronnie made a face. I think my dad told him to go find me. He even knew where I lived.
Sucks being you.
When Ronnie laughed, Blaze reached for the saltshaker. After tipping it over, she began sprinkling salt onto the table while using a finger to mold it into a pile.
What did you think of Marcus? she asked.
I didnt really talk to him. Why?
Blaze seemed to choose her words carefully. Marcus never liked me, she said. Growing up, I mean. I cant say that I liked him very much, either. He was always kind of mean, you know? But then, I dont know, a couple of years ago, things changed. And when I really needed someone, he was there for me.
Ronnie watched the salt pile grow. And?
I just wanted you to know.
Fine, she said. Whatever.
You too.
What are you talking about?
Blaze scraped some of the black polish from her fingernails. I used to compete in gymnastics, and for maybe four or five years, it was the biggest thing in my life. I ended up quitting because of my coach. He was a real hard-ass, always telling you what you did wrong, never complimenting you on what you did right. Anyway, I was doing a new dismount off the beam one day, and he marched forward screaming at me about the proper way to plant and how I have to freeze and everything Id heard him scream about a million times before. I was tired of hearing it, you know? So I said, Whatever, and he grabbed my arm so hard that he left bruises.
Anyway, he says to me, Do you know what youre saying when you say, Whatever? Its just a code word for the f-word, followed by you. And at your age, you never, ever say that to anyone. Blaze leaned back. So now, when someone says it to me, I just say, You too.
Right then, the waitress arrived with their food, and she placed it in front of them with an efficient flourish. When she was gone, Ronnie reached for her soda.
Thanks for the heartwarming story.
Whatever.
Ronnie laughed again, liking her sense of humor.
Blaze leaned across the table. So whats worst thing youve ever done?
What?
Im serious. I always ask people that question. I find it interesting.
All right, Ronnie countered. Whats the worst thing youve ever done?
Thats easy. When I was little, I had this neighborMrs. Banderson. She wasnt the nicest lady, but she wasnt a witch, either. I mean, its not like she locked her doors on Halloween or anything. But she was really into her garden, you know? And her lawn. I mean, if we ever walked across it on our way to the school bus, shed come storming out, screaming that we were ruining the grass. Anyway, one spring, she planted all these flowers in her garden. Hundreds of them. It was gorgeous. Well, there was this kid across the street named Billy, and he didnt like Mrs. Banderson much, either, because one time hed hit a baseball and it went into her backyard, and she wouldnt give it back. So one day, we were poking around his garden shed, and we came across this big sprayer filled with Roundup. The weed killer? Well, he and I snuck out after dark one night and sprayed all those new flowers, dont ask me why. I guess at the time we thought it would be kind of funny. No big deal. Just buy some new ones, right? You couldnt tell right away, of course. It takes a few days before it starts working. And Mrs. Banderson was out there every day, watering and pulling weeds before she noticed that all her new flowers had started to wilt. At first, Billy and I laughed about it, but then I started to notice shed be out there before school trying to figure out what was wrong, and shed still be out there when I came back from school. And by the end of the week, all of them were dead.
Thats terrible! Ronnie cried, giggling despite herself.
I know. And I still feel bad about it. Its one of those things that I wish I could undo.
Did you ever tell her? Or offer to replace the flowers?
My parents would have killed me. But I never, ever walked across her lawn again.
Wow.
Like I said, its the worst thing Ive ever done. Now its your turn.
Ronnie thought about it. I didnt talk to my dad for three years.
I already know that. And its not that bad. Like I said, I try not to talk to my dad, either.
And my mom has no idea where I am most of the time.
Ronnie glanced away. Above the jukebox was a picture of Bill Haley & His Comets.
I used to shoplift, she said, subdued. A lot. Nothing big. Just more for the thrill of doing it.
Used to?
Not anymore. I got caught. Actually, I got caught twice, but the second time it was an accident. It went to court, but the charges were continued for a year. Basically, it means that if I dont get in trouble again, the charges will be dismissed.
Blaze lowered her burger. Thats it? Thats the worst thing youve ever done?
I never killed someones flowers, if thats what you mean. Or vandalized anything.
Youve never stuck your brothers head in the toilet? Or crashed the car? Or shaved the cat or something?
Ronnie gave a small smile. No.
Youre probably the most boring teenager in the world.
Ronnie giggled again before taking a sip of her soda. Can I ask you a question?
Go ahead.
Why didnt you go home last night?
Blaze took a pinch of the salt shed piled up and sprinkled it over her fries. I didnt want to.
What about your mom? Doesnt she get mad?
Probably, Blaze said.
Off to the side, the door to the diner swung open and Ronnie turned to see Marcus, Teddy, and Lance heading toward their booth. Marcus wore a T-shirt emblazoned with a skull, and a chain was attached to the belt loop of his jeans.
Blaze scooted over, but strangely, Teddy took a seat beside her while Marcus squeezed in next to Ronnie. As Lance pulled up a chair from an adjoining table and flipped it around before sitting, Marcus reached for Blazes plate. Both Teddy and Lance automatically grabbed for the fries.
Hey, thats for Blaze, Ronnie cried, trying to stop them. Get your own.
Marcus turned from one to the other. Yeah?
Its okay, Blaze said, pushing the plate toward him. Really. I wont be able to eat it all anyway.
Marcus reached for the ketchup, acting as though hed proved his point. So what are you two talking about? From the window, it looked intense.
Nothing, Blaze said.
Let me guess. Shes telling you about her moms sexy boyfriend and their late night trapeze acts, right?
Blaze wiggled in her seat. Dont be gross.
Marcus gave Ronnie a frank stare. Did she tell you about the night one of her moms boyfriends came sneaking into her room? She was like, Youve got fifteen minutes to get the hell out of here.
Shut up, okay? Thats not funny. And we werent talking about him.
Whatever, he said, smirking.
Blaze reached for her shake as Marcus began eating the burger. Teddy and Lance grabbed more fries, and over the next few minutes, the three of them devoured most of what was on the plate. To Ronnies dismay, Blaze said nothing, and Ronnie wondered about that.
Or actually, she didnt wonder. It seemed obvious that Blaze didnt want Marcus to get mad at her, so she let him do whatever he wanted. Shed seen it before: Kayla, for all her tough posturing, was the same way when it came to guys. And generally, they treated her like dirt.
But she wouldnt say that here. She knew it would only make things worse.
Blaze sipped her milkshake and put it back on the table. So what do you guys want to do after this?
Were out, Teddy grunted. Our old man needs me and Lance to work today.
Theyre brothers, Blaze explained.
Ronnie studied them, not seeing the resemblance. You are?
Marcus finished the burger and pushed the plate to the center of the table. I know. Its hard to believe parents could have two such ugly kids, huh? Anyway, their family owns a piece-of-crap motel just over the bridge. The pipes are like a hundred years old, and Teddys job is to plunge the toilets when they get clogged.
Ronnie wrinkled her nose, trying to imagine it. Really?
Marcus nodded. Gross, huh? But dont worry about Teddy. Hes great at it. A real prodigy.
He actually enjoys it. And Lance herehis job is to clean the sheets after the noontime crowd rolls through.
Ew, Ronnie said.
I know. Its totally disgusting, Blaze added. And you should see some of the people that go for the hourly rates. You could catch a disease just walking into the room.
Ronnie wasnt sure how to respond to that, so instead she turned to Marcus. So what do you do? she asked.
Whatever I want, he answered.
Which means? Ronnie challenged.
Why do you care?
I dont, she said, keeping her voice cool. I was just asking.
Teddy grabbed the last of the fries from Blazes plate. It means he hangs out at the motel with us. In his room.
You have a room at the motel?
I live there, he said.
The obvious question was why, and she waited for more, but Marcus stayed quiet. She suspected he wanted her to attempt to tease the information out of him. Maybe she was reading
too much into it, but she had the sudden sense that he wanted her to be interested in him. Wanted her to like him. Even though Blaze was right there.
Her suspicions were confirmed when he reached for a cigarette. After he lit it, he blew the smoke toward Blaze, then turned to Ronnie.
What are you doing tonight? he asked.
Ronnie shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable. It seemed like everyone, Blaze included, was waiting for her answer.
Why?
Were having a little get-together at Bowers Point. Not just us. A bunch of people. I want you to come. Without the cops this time.
Blaze studied the tabletop, toying with the pile of salt. When Ronnie didnt answer, Marcus rose from the table and headed for the door without turning back.
9Steve
Hey, Dad, Jonah called out. He was standing behind the piano in the alcove as Steve brought the plates of spaghetti to the table. Is that a picture of you with Grandma and Grandpa?
Yeah, thats my mom and dad.
I dont remember that picture. From the apartment, I mean.
For a long time, it was in my office at school.
Oh, Jonah said. He leaned closer to the photo, studying it. You kind of look like Grandpa.
Steve wasnt sure what to think about that. Maybe a little.
Do you miss him?
He was my dad. What do you think?
Id miss you.
As Jonah came to the table, Steve reflected that it had been a satisfying, if uneventful, day.
Theyd spent the morning in the shop, where Steve had taught Jonah to cut glass; theyd eaten sandwiches on the porch and collected seashells in the late afternoon. And Steve had promised that as soon as it was dark, he would take Jonah for a walk down the beach with flashlights to watch the hundreds of spider crabs darting in and out of their sand burrows.
Jonah pulled out his chair and plopped down. He took a drink of milk, leaving a white mustache. Do you think Ronnies coming home soon?
I hope so.
Jonah wiped his lip with the back of his hand. Sometimes she stays out pretty late.
I know.
Is the police officer going to bring her back home again?