Some fiftv miles off.
It’ll take me a couple of days, he thought. I’d better get started.
He tucked the registration slip under his belt and began to climb the wall of the ravine.
Thirty-seven
Lane’s hand trembled as she applied eyeliner. It’s not a date, she told herself. Just a school function. Nothing more than a glorified field trip, really.
She’d been telling herself that all day, but it never seemed to help.
I probably won’t even have a chance to be alone with him.
The door bell rang, and her stomach gave a sickening lurch.
He’s here.
Lane took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, then brushed mascara onto her lashes. She put the makeup away. She took her purse off the dresser and stepped back in front of the closet mirror.
I can’t go dressed like this! she suddenly thought, and saw her face turn red. No, it’s okay. He doesn’t want us in evening gowns. He said it’s not the prom.
Besides, she’d worn this outfit to mass a few times. If it’s good enough for mass, it’s good enough for Hamlet.
And I do look good in it, she thought. And it’s me.
Lane lifted her arms. Though her armpits felt wet, no moisture showed on the tie-dyed blue denim. Probably because the blouse fit so loosely. Most of the perspiration just ran down her sides.
“Lane!” Mom called. “Mr. Kramer’s here.”
“I’ll be right out!”
Quickly, she popped open the top snaps. She plucked some Kleenex from a box on top of the dresser, reached inside the blouse, dried her armpits, and applied a fresh coating of roll-on. Pinching the snaps shut again, she hurried from the room.
I amtoo casual, she thought when she saw Mr. Kramer in the foyer. He wore a necktie with a white shirt, blue blazer and gray slacks.
“Good evening, Lane,” he said. Then he turned back to her father and raised the copy of Night Watcherin his left hand. “Thanks again for the autograph, Larry.”
“Thanks for buying the book,” Dad said. “I’m glad you could find a copy.” His face was a little more red than usual, his voice a little thicker. But at least he didn’t slur his words. He’d had a lotto drink before dinner. Lane hoped Mr. Kramer didn’t realize he was pretty well polluted.
“And I can count on you for October thirty-first?”
“I’ll be there.”
“That’s terrific. The kids’ll get a great kick out of having a speaker like you on Halloween.”
“I’ll read ‘em some really disgustingstuff from my books.”
“I’m sure they’ll love it.” He nodded at Lane. “Well, I guess we’d better be on our way. Are you all set?”
“Am I dressed okay?” she asked. “I could put on something more...”
“No, no, you’re perfect.”
Mom, smiling, nodded in agreement. “You look just fine, honey.”
“You shore do, little pardner,” Dad said. “If’n you run into Hoot up the trail, be sure’n tell him howdy for me.”
“Oh, Daaaad.”
Mr. Kramer laughed. “It was very nice meeting you, Larry,” he said, and extended his hand.
Dad shook it. “Nice to meet you, too. And I’ll see you on Halloween.”
Shaking hands with Mom, Mr. Kramer said, “A real pleasure meeting you, Jean. I can see where Lane got her looks.”
She blushed. “Why, thank you.”
As he opened the door, Lane kissed her parents. “See you later,” she told them, and they wished her a good time. Then she was on the walkway with Mr. Kramer. His station wagon, parked at the curb, looked empty.
He didcome here first!
Lane hoped it wasn’t just a matter of geographical convenience, hoped he’d chosen to pick her up before the others so they could have some time alone.
“Are you warm enough in that?” he asked.
Did he realize she was trembling? “Oh, I’m fine,” she said. Her shivers, she thought, had little to do with the chilly night air. “I’m just excited,” she added.
He smiled at her. “It’s great to have a student actually excited about going to a play.”
That isn’t it at all, Lane thought as he opened the passenger door. She climbed into the car. He shut the door, walked around the front, and got in behind the steering wheel.
“Excuse me,” he muttered. Leaning sideways, he reached in front of Lane to open the glove compartment. “Don’t want anything happening to the book.” For just a moment, as he slipped the paperback into the compartment, his shoulder pushed against her upper arm. “There,” he said. “Safe and sound.” He sat up straight and started the car.
“Have you read it yet?” Lane asked.
“No, unfortunately.” He pulled away from the curb. “I should be able to get to it next week, though.”
“After you read that, you may want to reconsider having Dad speak to the class.” She grinned. “You may not want him anywhere near a group of high school students.”
“That bad, huh?”
“That nasty.”
“He seemed like a very nice man,” Mr. Kramer said.
“Oh, he is. You’d think he was a monster, reading that stuff, but he’s awfully sweet. He had kind of a bad time today, though. In case you thought he was acting a little... weird. See, he went out shooting in the desert. With our neighbor, Pete.” I’m running off at the mouth like a kid, she thought. He doesn’t care about any of this. “Anyway, Pete had some kind of an accident.”
“Not shot, I hope.”
“Oh, no. Nothing like that. But he fell off some rocks and got knocked out cold. He actually broke his nose. Dad had to take him to the emergency room. So anyway, he wasn’t exactly himself after he got done with all that.”
“It doesn’t sound like much fun.”
“No. It wasn’t. So, how have you been?”
“No complaints. How about yourself? You haven’t had anymore run-ins with Benson, I hope.”
“No.”
“He’ll probably leave you alone. But let me know if he causes you any trouble.”
“I think you put the fear of God into him.”
Mr. Kramer shook his head. “You never know, a guy like that. You’ll have to keep your eyes open. Don’t let him catch you alone. There’s no telling what he might do, and I’d sure hate for anything to happen to my best student.”
“I’ll be careful,” she said.
“Speaking of which, maybe you’d better buckle up.”
“Planning to crash?” she asked, and reached up for the safety harness.
“I’ll sure try not to. But you may have noticed, you keep getting hurt when you’re around me.”
“Yeah. Guess you’re bad luck.” She drew the strap down between her breasts and snapped its metal tab into the buckle by her left hip.
“Now you won’t have to worry about a rendezvous with the windshield.”
“Yeah. I’d look lousy at the play with blood all over my clothes.”
“I do like that outfit,” he said, glancing at her. “You haven’t worn it to school, have you?”
“Not this one.”
“I’ve seen you in something similar, though. A blue denim jumper with white lace. A mini, as I recall.”
“Oh, that.” She felt a warm stir, pleased to find out that he actually remembered what she wore to school, but slightly embarrassed that he recalled the jumper. “Probably too short,” she said.
“I wouldn’t say that. You’ve got the legs for it.”
“Thanks,” she said, heat rushing to her face.
He swung the car to the curb and stopped. Lane gazed at him, her heart pounding. Why’d he stop? He turned on the overhead light. He smiled at her. Then he reached inside his blazer and took a sheet of paper from his pocket.
Just checking directions, she realized.
“Okay,” he said. “Aaron’s at 4980 Cactus. Should be just on the next block.”
Lane felt a pull of disappointment. Their time alone was almost done.