Chapter Two
Pacey had surprised her. Instead of having a romantic dinner in their favorite cozy restaurant, accompanied by candles and roses and champagne, which she expected, Pacey informed her to put on her dancing shoes, because they were going to a club of his choice.
"But Pace, we're too old to go to a club." She'd protested, picking up her favorite evening dress off of the bed. Pacey gave her an incredulous look and crossed his arms over his chest, sitting down on the edge of their bed.
"I don't think so, sister. If I'm mistaken, who was the first one on the dance floor at Jeff's New Years Eve party?"
Joey rolled her eyes at him. "Come on, Pace. How long ago was that?" She asked, nevertheless going over to the closet to reluctantly put the dress back.
"Last year. Now stop it with the ancient routine, you're just acting like a lazy old bag. You're twenty-five for God's sake. You shed that Queen of Prudence image long before I knocked you up."
She rolled her eyes at his vulgar choice of words and glanced at him. "Fine," she said, shrugging, rising to the very subtle challenge. "You're in for one hell of a night then, Witter."
Joey put on her proverbial little red dress with spaghetti straps, put on make-up, and did her hair, leaving it loose and curly. Pacey dressed in a pair of black slacks, and a short-sleeved, black, V-neck shirt that clung to his broad shoulders and firm muscles. They made an attractive couple; they looked like happily in love college students, out on a night on the town.
Joey promised him he was in for one hell of a night, and that's what he got. They took a cab to Nightcrawler, an extremely popular nightspot that he used bartend at during college before he found a better paying job, before the club got big. They walked past the long line and right through the front, pausing the chat briefly with Robbie, the bouncer they both knew and liked. Pacey had called beforehand, and reserved a V.I.P. table overlooking the dance floor. They had a sloppy, spicy dinner of chopped barbeque, French fries, and Buffalo wings with blue cheese dressing. After eating, they immediately hit the dance floor and danced until the club closed at three a.m., and then they took another cab all the way to Millennium, a combination club and pool hall they'd loved when they were younger.
There, they drank beers, ate cheese fries, kissed, and played a few games of pool and danced some more. At five-thirty, they took yet another cab home. Pacey unlocked the door, and swept Joey into his arms, carrying her over the threshold. They quickly proceeded to the bedroom where they made loud, wildly passionate love three consecutive times before resting and doing it once more, slower, longer and more tenderly. Wiped out, they finally fell asleep at ten to nine and slept for ten hours straight.
Their slumber was interrupted when Bessie called and wondered if they were planning on sending the kids to their respective nursery, pre-school, and kindergarten classes tomorrow, because they should be at home, eating, bathing, and getting ready for bed. Casey really needed her rest, Bessie stressed, because sweet little Casey had recently decided to explore her curiousity concerning Bessie's kitchen appliances, Alex's videogames and how they interacted with various foodstuffs and mud cleverly made with the dirt from Bodie's garden and the water hose. It was an interesting experiment for a child of four to undertake, however not necessarily meticulously calculated. While her little experiment was pretty bad, Bessie decided to not even begin to describe the countless other mind-boggling endeavors Casey had pursued over the last thirty or so hours. Remembering and reliving them gave her migraines, Bessie said, and she'd run out of aspirin that weekend.
In short, Casey was acting like Rosemary's Baby and needed to be sent home immediately.
Joey and Pacey reluctantly got up and showered. Their fun, carefree evening was over, but they agreed that although Casey was naturally mischievous, lately she'd been getting out of hand; and they had to get her out of this phase she was going through so Bessie would watch her again, subsequently enabling them to have many more unforgettable nights.
...
Bessie hung up the phone and glared at her little niece. The little girl was muddy, dripping wet, and standing in the middle of the kitchen floor, looking down at her filthy sneakers.
"Look at me." Bessie ordered. Casey raised her contrite golden eyes up to Bessie's angry blue ones. "You are going to get in major trouble for your behavior this weekend," Bessie promised, shifting Marissa to her other arm. "Major, major trouble, young lady."
Tears filled Casey's eyes but, unlike Pacey, Bessie was immune. "I'm going to run a bath, and you stand in this spot until the tub's full. Got it?"
Casey nodded glumly, wide-eyed and chewing nervously on her bottom lip. Bessie left the kitchen with Marissa, the screen door slamming behind her. Casey's little sister. A moment later, her brother poked his head in the doorway and looked around before entering. He closed the screen door slowly so it wouldn't slam, and began bouncing his big blue rubber ball. It made an almost metallic 'thang' as it hit the linoleum.
"You're gonna be in really big trouble when Mommy and Daddy comes." He stated sadly, feeling sorry for her, steadily bouncing. Even though she really made him mad sometimes, he adored her.
"I know." She whispered.
"I told you not to do that. You're a real dummy sometimes, Case. You never listen to me, and you always get in trouble." He scolded her with more pity than malice.
"I'm really sorry I did it. I jus' really wanted to try it."
"No you didn't. You just want Daddy to play with you more than he does with Aliya." L.J. disagreed with a perception that was typical of him and sharp for his age.
"That's not true!" Casey protested.
"Yes it is too," he said confidently. "And he won't play with you now. He's just gonna be mad at you." Casey sighed and crossed her arms, glaring at the ground, saying nothing else. She knew her brother was right. He always was. L.J. looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. She was going to get in trouble, and she was sad. He didn't like it when she was sad. "Hey, you want some candy?" L.J. asked suddenly.
Casey looked up and grinned. "Yeah." But then her excitement fell. "Where? All the candy from Marco's bindada is all gone."
"It's a 'pin-yata'," he corrected. "And I got the bag with the money in it, 'member?" he asked, putting his ball under one arm, digging into the pocket of his jeans, and producing a handful of money. "Look, I have a dollar, two ten cents, one nickel, an' three twenty-five cents."
"Wow. How much is that together?"
"I dunno," he said honestly, putting it back into his pocket. "But I can get a lot of candy from the store with it."
Casey shook her head, not really liking that idea. "No, L.J., you'll get in trouble if you go to the store by yourself."
L.J. grinned. "Not if I go really fast and they don't know I went. And if I do get in trouble, at least you won't be in trouble by yourself. And we'll have candy, too!"
She beamed lovingly at him. "You're my absolute favorite bestest big brother in the whole wide world."
L.J.'s grin widened. "You're my absolute favorite best big brother in the whole wide world too." He joked.
"I'm not a boy!" Casey opposed, laughing.
"You sure look like one." He insisted playfully, leaving the kitchen, smiling wickedly. It was fun not to be a good boy all of the time. A tiny part of him hoped he would get in trouble.
Outside, Jamie McNamara from across the street was waiting for him. A few moments earlier he'd seen L.J. outside of his bedroom window and yelled down that he was coming out to play with him. As soon as Jamie pulled his head back in to get ready, L.J. went inside. He hated him. The only reason why he played with him at all was because his cousin Alex liked Jamie's sister Briana; and every time L.J. came over, Alex gave him a dollar if L.J. agreed to let Alex use him as an excuse to go over to Briana and Jamie's house, and to distract Jamie so he could hang out with Briana without Jamie getting in the way.
Little did Alex know that Jamie found out somehow, and threatened to beat L.J. up if he didn't get fifty cents of the dollar. Little did L.J. know that Jamie genuinely liked him, and threatening him was the only way Jamie knew how to make sure he would play with him. Usually L.J. wouldn't allow himself to be bullied, but Jamie was the biggest boy in the second grade, and L.J. was only in the first. Worst of all, Jamie had a crush on Casey, which L.J. didn't like at all.
"You didn't wait for me, punk." Jamie said accusingly, glaring at him. L.J. shrugged and looked back at the house to make sure no one was looking before he turned sharply to the left and walked quickly from view of the house. "Where do you think you're going?" Jamie asked. L.J. stopped and faced him.
"Look, if my Auntie Bessie comes out and looks for me, tell her we're playing hide-and-seek and I'm hiding. If you do that, I'll give you some candy from the store." L.J. bargained quickly.
Jamie looked at him in surprise. "You're gonna go to the store by yourself? I can't even do that."
"Me neither. But it's only two blocks down, big deal."
Jamie nodded thoughtfully. He never thought to just go by himself and he wasn't about to let some kindergartner sneak away to the store before he did. "I'll go with you," Jamie decided. When L.J. began to object, he added, "If we get caught, we'll just say we were coming back from Ricky's house, looking at the new puppies."
L.J. hadn't thought of an excuse for if they were caught coming back down the block so, grateful for it, he finally nodded. Getting in trouble for not asking his aunt if he could go to the house on the corner was a lot better than getting in trouble for going to the store. "Okay. Come on."
As they walked down the block, L.J. bounced his ball. Covetously, Jamie eyed it. L.J. brought one with him every time he visited and never let him hold it. Any time he insisted, L.J. would go inside, and if he came back out he never brought it back out with him. "Lemme see that." Jamie demanded, swiping for it. When L.J. held it out of his reach, Jamie stopped and glared. "If you don't let me hold it, I'll tell on you."
L.J. didn't want to let Jamie hold it—Jamie broke things simply by looking at them—but he couldn't waste time arguing. He handed the ball over, saying, "Only on the way there. I get to hold it on the way back, deal?"
"Deal," Jamie agreed.
L.J. began walking faster, his heart beating fast. He wanted to hurry up before he got caught. Auntie Bessie would be mad, and his parents furious. He would get a spanking for sure. Alarmed at the thought, L.J. began running. The tiny part of him that hoped he would get caught was gone. Jamie jogged along with him, bouncing the ball as he ran like a basketball player. They came upon the store quickly. It was a corner convenience store, and there was a big white truck parked in front of it. Two men were unloading boxes and carrying them into the store.
"See that van on the corner?" Jamie asked him, pointing to a SUV parked on the corner adjacent to the truck. With the truck, it blocked the view of the busy main street on which the van was parked.
"Yeah," L.J. answered distantly, not really caring.
"When I marry your sister I'm gonna get a big van like that, and we'll drive around with our family."
L.J. made a disgusted face as they walked into the store. "That's stupid. Why don't you get a racecar? I'm gonna get a racecar when I get bigger. It's gonna look like a Hot Wheels car." He paused, belatedly realizing what Jamie said. He bristled instantly, his protectiveness overriding any feelings of fear and intimidation of Jamie he secretly harbored. Stopping and shoving Jamie's shoulders, he snapped, "And you're not gonna touch my sister, Jamie, stop saying that! You're gonna be poor and weak and ugly and… and a stupid doody-head! And she's gonna marry someone who's rich and big and strong like my daddy."
Jamie chose to ignore him. And L.J., choosing to take Jamie's silence as acceptance, turned away, walked up to the counter and looked up at the man behind it. He reached up on his tiptoes and put the money on the counter. "Excuse me? How much candy can I get with this, mister?"
"It depends. A quarter will get you five pieces of candy from the bottom row. They're five cents apiece. The second row is ten cents apiece, and the top two cost twenty-five, fifty cents, or a dollar." The man answered, pointing.
Off L.J.'s confused look, he smiled kindly and said, "Just start telling me what candy you want and how much of it, and I'll tell you when you've spent it all."
L.J. nodded and looked at the rows of candy. "I'm bored, I'm gonna play with the ball outside." Jamie said. L.J. wanted to say no because he didn't want to take his eyes off the ball, but he knew that with Jamie outside, he would be able to concentrate better.
"Okay." He agreed. Focusing now on the candy, L.J. bought a watermelon Bubblicious, a Juicy Fruit, and five each peach-flavored gummy rings, caramels, Swedish fish, and gummy worms. The man put the candy into a paper bag, folded the top down, and handed it to him. L.J. thanked him and went outside. Jamie was standing a little down the block, almost past the delivery truck in front.
"Watch this." Jamie said, slamming the ball on to the ground. It hit the floor with a sharp thank and flew high into the air. L.J. watched with his heart in his throat as it sailed, and let out a sigh of relief when Jamie caught it.
"Don't do that." L.J. barked, storming over to him. This rubber ball was new. When the old one burst his father explained the ball was filled up with something called 'compressed air', and although the walls were firm, it could be busted easily with a sharp rock. Jamie ignored him and did it again. But when it came back down, it bounced off the truck's engine hood and flew into the street.
"Look what you did, you asshole!" L.J. shrieked angrily. He didn't know what it meant, but his Daddy said it sometimes when he was angry and driving and once, when Casey called one of her classmates that, he explained to them that it wasn't a nice word to say. Not caring that Jamie would probably tell on him for using a bad word, L.J. ran out after the ball.
...
Casey sat in her bath, taking as long as she could so Aunt Bessie would have to stay watching her, unable to check on L.J. She slowly rubbed her arm with the soapy washcloth. Aliya was sitting on the bathroom rug, thumb in mouth, silently playing with Casey's rubber duckie. Her aunt sat on the edge of the tub, sighing in exasperation. She reached for the shampoo and began vigorously rubbing it in Casey's hair.
"Hurry up, your parents will be here soon." Bessie said.
Casey switched the washcloth to her other arm and began washing it slowly.
...
Harold Goldberg was late for work. He had the five to two a.m. shift at the twenty-four hour video rental store, and he knew that if he was late one more time he was going to be fired. If he was fired, his wife would kill him and his five kids would starve.
The thought made him look at the time. Four fifty-one. He could make it. He had to make it. That bastard Jerry wouldn't give him another chance this time. He knew Jerry wanted to give his job to that pimply shrimp-wimp he hired two weeks ago, because they didn't really need to extra help. Damn illegal immigrants come to this country and think they can just kick good American citizens around and take over their jobs and neighborhoods… he would show him a thing or two if he didn't already have a record. If he went back to jail his wife would kill him and his five kids would starve.
He looked up at the traffic light ahead, and it was turning red. Harold sped up and glanced again at the clock on the dashboard. The glowing green numbers declared it was four fifty-two. Great. The video store was still about ten minutes away. He hit the brakes and swung the steering wheel to careen around the corner, barely missing the truck that was parked there. Smashing his foot back on the accelerator, he glanced at the clock again. Still four fifty-two. Ah, maybe he would make it.
Harold looked back out of the windshield, and for a split second, had no idea what the object was in the middle of the street. A moment later it registered, and the wide pair of eyes that met his looked as shocked as he felt. His heart slammed into his ribs as, too late, his foot slammed on the brakes.
...
From the sidewalk, Jamie heard a car screeching around the corner. Too late, he screamed, "Watch out!" Horrified, he could only watch the accident happen. The brown bag, which held treats for L.J.'s little sisters sailed into the air, making a smooth arc before landing with a soft thump that was not heard over the screaming brakes and the dull thud as the life was viciously knocked out of his friend's little body. The sounds and image would remain in Jamie's mind for as long as he lived.
...
"You have to be firm with Casey, Pace." Joey told him.
Pacey nodded. "I know . . . I just don't want to be too hard on her. She'll hate me."
Joey rolled her eyes. "She will not hate you. Don't you see that all she's doing is begging for attention? She's still a bit jealous of Aliya. Especially now that she's sick and sucking her thumb, we give her a little more attention."
Pacey nodded again. There was an ambulance zooming past the intersection a few blocks ahead, and people were rushing across the street. "There must be an accident up there." He said, glancing at Joey. "I'll turn this corner and go around it."
"Isn't it a one-way?" Joey asked. She'd seen the ambulance, and was suddenly apprehensive.
"Nah." Pacey said, making a right. At the next block, he made another right, and drove down the street to Bessie's house. They pulled into the driveway and got out. After pressing the doorbell and waiting for a while, they realized that she was gone.
"Where the hell is she?" Joey wondered aloud, her anxiety growing. Pacey glanced down the block. He could see the flashing lights of an ambulance and two police cars in front of a store. He abruptly felt uneasy and wanted to get his kids so they could go home.
"I know this sounds horribly clichéd, but I can feel that something's wrong, Pacey," Joey said shakily. "I can feel it."
They looked at each other and knew at the same time that it had to do with the accident up the block. Together, they took off down the street.
...
A policeman Casey didn't know was holding her. A policeman that was a girl was standing next to them, holding Aliya. While she sitting in the living room, trying to tie her sneakers, someone had knocked on Aunt Bessie's front door. She'd begun crying a lot, and then she grabbed Casey's hand, and rushed down the block, carrying Aliya. At first, when she saw the police, she thought that L.J. got caught and was going to go to jail, but then she remembered that kids don't go to jail, only bad men; and Aunt Bessie would be mad, not sad.
She wanted to know what everyone was sad about. A lot of people were standing around, shaking their heads, and a few women were crying, including her Aunt Bessie, who was standing with a policeman, probably crying the loudest. She looked around and saw the boy across the street, Jamie, wrapped up in a blanket, sitting on the hood of the police car. He was crying too.
Her stomach hurt really badly, something was wrong.
She wondered where her brother was because she was beginning to get worried.
Some people were pushing the other people in the crowd, Casey saw. They were two tall people. It looked like her mommy and daddy. It was her mommy and daddy. Uh oh. L.J. was in big trouble now, and it was all her fault.
...
Joey blindly pushed past the crowd. She'd heard her sister crying, and she knew that something had happened to one of her kids. She prayed fervently that they were okay.
Please God, let them be okay.
Reaching the front of the crowd, she saw why Bessie was crying. A little body was covered in a bloodstained sheet, and a familiar blue ball was lying a few feet away from it, dotted with blood.
No.
No, it wasn't her child.
It couldn't be her child.
A policeman tried to hold her back. She shoved him away from her. Pacey tried to hold her. She jerked out of his arms and rushed over to the body, tears already blinding her. She pulled back the bloody sheet.
Someone began screaming in agony.
It was she who was screaming.
And she couldn't stop.