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After a while he realized that a pretty girl, about his own age, had walked up to the racks a few feet away. There were two shelves of books above the wire pockets, and those titles were shelved sideways instead of with their covers showing; she was looking at these, her head tilted to one side so that she could read the spines. She was wearing shorts, and for a moment he stared at her lovely slender legs. She had a graceful neck. Her hair was golden.

She became aware that he was staring at her, and she looked up, smiled. “Hi.”

He smiled, too. “Hi.”

“You’re a friend of Roy Borden‘s, aren’t you?”

“How’d you know that?”

She cocked her head to one side again, as if he were another book on the shelf and she were reading his title. She said, “The two of you are almost like Siamese twins. I hardly ever see one without the other.”

“You see me now,” he said.

“You’re new in town.”

“Yeah. Since the first of June.”

“What’s your name?”

“Colin Jacobs. What’s yours?”

“Heather.”

“That’s pretty.”

“Thank you.”

“Heather what?”

“Promise you won’t laugh.”

“Huh?”

“Promise you won’t laugh at my name.”

“Why would I laugh at your name?”

“It’s Heather Lipshitz.”

“No,” he said.

“Yes. It would be bad enough if it were Zelda Lipshitz. Or Sadie Lipshitz. But Heather Lipshitz is worse because the two don’t go together, and the first name just calls attention to the last. You didn’t laugh.”

“Of course not.”

“Most kids do.”

“Most kids are stupid.”

“You like to read?” Heather asked.

“Yeah.”

“What do you read?”

“Science fiction. You?”

“I’ll read almost anything. I’ve read some science fiction. Stranger in a Strange Land.”

“That’s a great book.”

“You see Star Wars?” she asked.

“Four times. And Close Encounters six times.”

“Have you seen Alien?”

“Yeah. You enjoy stuff like that?”

“Sure. When there’s an old Christopher Lee movie on TV, you can’t pull me away from the set,” she said.

He was amazed. “You actually like horror movies?”

“The scarier the better.” She looked at her wristwatch. “Well, I’ve got to get home for dinner. It’s been real nice talking to you, Colin.”

As she started to turn away, he said, “Uh … wait a sec.” She looked back at him, and he shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. “Uh… there’s a new horror flick coming to the Baronet this week.”

“I saw the previews.”

“Did it look good to you?”

“Might be,” she said.

“Would you … well … I mean … do you think …”

She smiled. “I’d like to.”

“You would?”

“Sure.”

“Well … should I call you or what?”

“Call me.”

“What’s your number?”

“It’s in the book. Believe it or not, we’re the only Lipshitz family in town.”

He grinned. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“If that’s all right.”

“That’s fine.”

“Bye.”

“Good-bye, Colin.”

He watched her walk out of the store. His heart was racing.

Jeez.

Something strange was happening to him. For sure, for sure. He never before had been able to talk like that with a girl-or with a girl like that. He usually got tongue-tied right at the start, and the whole conversation went into the toilet. But not this time. He’d been smooth. For God’s sake, he’d even made a date with her! His first date. Something sure was happening to him.

But what?

And why?

Several hours later, as he lay in bed, listening to a Los Angeles radio station, unable to sleep, Colin thought about all of the wonderful new developments in his life. With a terrific friend like Roy, with an important position like team manager, and with a girl as pretty and nice as Heather-what more could he possibly ask?

He had never been so content.

Roy was the most important part of his new life, of course. Without Roy, he would never have been brought to the attention of Coach Molinoff and would never have gotten the job as junior-varsity team manager. And without Roy’s liberating influence, he would very likely never have had the nerve to ask Heather for a date. More than that-she probably wouldn’t even have said hello to him if he hadn’t been Roy’s friend. Wasn’t that the first thing she had said to him? You’re a friend of Roy Borden‘s, aren’t you? If he hadn’t been a friend of Roy’s, she probably wouldn’t even have looked at him twice.

But she had looked twice.

And she had agreed to date him.

Life was good.

He thought about Roy’s strange stories. The cat in the birdcage. The boy burned with lighter fluid. He knew those were just tall tales. Tests. Roy was testing him for something. He put the cat and the burned boy out of his mind. He wasn’t going to let those silly stories destroy his lovely mood.

He closed his eyes and pictured himself dancing with Heather in a magnificent ballroom. He was wearing a tuxedo. She was in a red gown. There was a crystal chandelier. They danced so well together that they seemed to be floating.

19

Early Monday afternoon, Colin was at the worktable in his bedroom, putting together a plastic model of Lon Chaney as the Phantom of the Opera. When the telephone rang, he had to run into his mother’s room to answer it, for he had no extension of his own.

It was Roy. “Colin, you’ve got to come right away.”

“Come where?”

“My house.”

Colin looked at the digital read-out clock on the nightstand: 1:05. He said, “We were supposed to meet at two o‘clock.”

“I know. But you’ve got to come now.”

“Why?”

“My folks aren’t home, and there’s something here that you absolutely have to see. I can’t talk about it on the phone. You’ve got to come now, right away, just as quick as you can. Hurry!”

Roy hung up.

The game continues, Colin thought.

Ten minutes later, Colin rang the bell at the Borden house.

Roy answered the door. He was flushed and excited.

“What’s up?” Colin asked.

Roy pulled him inside and slammed the door. They stood in the foyer. The immaculate living room lay beyond; the emerald-green drapes filtered the sun and fllled the place with cold light that gave Colin the feeling they were deep beneath the sea.

“I want you to get a good look at Sarah,” Roy said.

“Who?”

“I told you about her Friday night, when we were at the beach steps on the palisades, just before we split up. She’s the girl, the one who looks good enough to be in a pom movie, the one I think we can find a way to screw.”

Colin blinked. “You’ve got her here?”

“Not exactly. Come on upstairs. You’ll see.”

Colin had never been in Roy’s bedroom before, and it surprised him. It didn’t look like a kid’s room; in fact, it didn’t look like a place where anyone, either child or adult, really lived. The nap on the carpet stood up as if it had been vacuumed only minutes ago. The dark pine furniture was highly polished; Colin couldn’t see a nick or a scratch in it, but he could see his reflection. No dust. No grime. No fingerprints around the light switch. The bed was neatly made, the lines as straight and the comers as tightly tucked as those on a bunk in an Army barracks. In addition to the furniture, there was a big red dictionary and the uniform volumes of an encyclopedia. But nothing else. Nothing else at all. There were no knickknacks, no model airplanes, no comic books, no sports equipment, nothing to show that Roy had any hobbies or even any normal human interests. Quite clearly, the room was a mirror of Mrs. Borden’s personality and not her son’s.