The Dark Light Read online

  “How’s school these days?” asked Gus, who looked ahead, at what, I didn’t know.

  “It’s good.”

  “And how’s that little brother of yours?”

  “He’s fine.”

  “Not straying from home on his own, I hope.”

  “No, we keep close tabs on him with the way things are.”

  Vibrations from the engine rumbled through the hull. My hair and clothes grew cold and damp. I watched Gus steer and thought of that night at Mickey’s with Rich Manning. And then I thought about Alex and the light I’d seen on Rowe.

  “Mr. Mason?”

  “Call me Gus. Mr. Mason makes me sound like an old fart, which of course I am, but no harm pretending otherwise.”

  I smiled. “Do you remember what Rich Manning said about Alex Dash?”

  “Rich? Who can remember anything that comes out of his crazy mouth?”

  “He said there were lights in Crownsville—that nothing good happened when they came here.”

  Gus continued to stare off the bow, and the glow from the fairy lights caught in his pale blue eyes. For a second I could imagine I was at sea or some faraway place, visiting worlds only Gus knew how to find. His thick eyebrows dropped with his frown. I checked ahead into the fog, certain something must have caught his eye. A white blanket remained.

  “It’s a strange place, Crownsville,” he remarked.

  I turned back, surprised by the change in his voice. He looked like the same old Gus with the same old Admiral Sunday guarding his shoulder, only he wasn’t the same in that moment. It was as if he saw that faraway world—something just out of reach.

  “Did you ever see lights?” I asked.

  “No, Mia,” Gus said. “No lights.”

  Silence descended as we turned sharply west. The fog started to lift in front of us and trees appeared on the banks. I recognized the landmarks and knew we were close to Old Man Crowley’s.

  We rounded another bend and Crowley’s tiny shack appeared. Everyone knew it was a ramshackle place, a clapboard cottage built on top of a gentle rise. Tall trees surrounded it, like a woodland hut from a long forgotten tale. Lights shone at the windows. But it wasn’t Crowley’s home that made my heart kick, then race.

  Sol stood on the overgrown lawn, watching the ferry as we drifted by. Instinct told me to look away. I couldn’t. He watched, like a sentry, a lone statue in a sea of mist. The fog remained thick on the edges of Crowley’s land, but on the yard, it retreated, like a curtain opening at the beginning of a play.

  Why Sol was outside in weather like this didn’t enter my mind. He belonged there, as much as Gus and Admiral Sunday belonged on the river. But the ferry puttered along, and soon we’d passed. I turned to take one last look before Sol and the house disappeared from view.

  Gus also looked at Sol. I caught the two of them—the old man on the river and the young guy on the shore—staring intently at each other.

  I pulled my jacket tighter around me, unnerved.

  The magic had passed. Gus was Gus again, his eyes trained on the river. But I couldn’t shake the shiver that traveled my spine.

  In that final moment, before Sol had disappeared from view, I was certain I’d seen Gus bow.

  SIX

  Of everything in the world,” said Willie. “Shopping, chocolate, volleyball—it’s being right that I like best.”

  “Then you should be really happy,” I said. “Because you were right.”

  She was inspecting my closet’s pitiful selection of formal wear while I sprawled on my bed, glowing from Andy’s invitation.

  “Willie, I’m buying something new. That cream one’s putrid, the blue’s too slutty, and I barely fit in the green anymore.”

  With one eyebrow raised, she turned from my closet. “Then why are they hanging here?”

  “I might need them,” I said.

  “For?”

  “I’ll think of something.”

  “Why do I believe you?” She took putrid and slutty from the closet. “Hanging on to garbage is a defense mechanism against all the misery in your life.”

  “But I don’t have misery in my life,” I said.

  “Yes, you do. Take Rusty, for example.”

  You think she’d give me a break after Andy asked me to prom. I groaned. “Do we have to?”

  Hours had passed since my adventure on the river and I didn’t want to revisit it now. The more I’d dwelled on what I’d seen, the more convinced I’d become that Gus had bowed to Sol. The more convinced I was, the more confused I became about what it meant. It was the kind of circular thinking that only Sol Crowley could inspire. I’d had enough of it to last a lifetime.

  “What are you going to do about him?” asked Willie.

  “Rusty?” I sighed. “Pete towed him to the shop. This time, I think it’s terminal.”

  “Good. You’ve been a slave to that machine for long enough.” She pulled out my little black dress. “What about this?”

  “For prom?”

  “I’m just looking for ideas. Of course, we have to shop.” She tossed the dress back into the closet, then flopped into my chair. “I was serious about Jake, you know.”

  “About a date?”

  “We get along.”

  “Then do it. Ask him out.” I imagined us together at prom. “He’s cute.”

  “And tall,” said Willie. “You know I can’t date anyone shorter than me. That severely limits my options.” She reached for the box with Mom’s necklace, which I’d left out from the other night, and opened it before I could stop her. “Nice. You should wear this.” She held it up. The amber stones with their crimson veins twinkled in the light. “Where’d you get it?”

  With Willie already trying to unearth the misery in my life, I wasn’t sure I wanted to confess. “It was my mom’s,” I replied, tentatively.

  “No!” She draped it across her front before placing it back in the box. “You have to wear it for prom. No one will have anything like it.”

  I really couldn’t see myself wearing the necklace; it was far too ostentatious. In fact, I couldn’t imagine anyone wearing it but a powdered old lady with diamond earrings and a mink stole.

  Willie strolled to the window, a satisfied smile on her face. “I still can’t believe he was nervous. Andy Monaghan. Nervous! Jessica is going to freak when she hears about this. Seriously, Mia . . .” She paused, her forehead pressed against the window pane, “Is that Jay out there?”

  I glanced at the clock. It was almost ten, far too late for Jay to be wandering around outside. I scrambled off the bed and joined Willie at the window.

  Jay stood on the edge of the cornfield, his outline faint in the light from the kitchen window. He ducked, peering through the new growth as if searching for something in the foliage.

  “Mia, what is he doing?”

  “Maybe he lost something,” I said. “I’d better go see. You get rats the size of coyotes out there.”

  I bounded downstairs, through the kitchen, then out into the yard. The worst of the fog had cleared, but the air was still cool and damp. Moisture glistened on the driveway.

  “What you doing, Spud?”

  He turned as I reached his side.

  “I thought I saw something,” he said.

  I scanned the edge of the field. All that moved were fine vapors of mist coiling around the stalks. “I don’t see anything. Was it a fox?”

  Jay shook his head. He looked back into the corn, his eyes narrowing, searching.

  There was nothing there.

  I glanced up to the bedroom window where Willie still watched. I shrugged at her, confused. “What did you see, Jay?”

  The corn whispered quietly around us.

  “Jay?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said. He took my hand. “I thought I saw my mom.”

  * * *

  I spoke to Pete in the kitchen first thing the next morning.

  “I think we have a problem with Jay,” I said. “And I think it migh
t be my fault.”

  Pete looked up from cleaning his shotgun. “What kind of problem?”

  I slid into a chair and braced myself for what I knew would be a difficult conversation. No matter how much Pete avoided talking about family, I had to tell him about what Jay had said he’d seen. I was worried.

  “I think I might have stirred something up about him and his mom,” I said.

  A long, awkward silence passed. Finally, Pete dropped his rag. “What about her?”

  “It was the other night,” I replied, determined to be as delicate as I could. “He had this picture of her, so I asked him about it. Nothing heavy, just if he remembered her, that kind of thing. Only, he made up this tale about her being taken from him. He seemed worried that I was going to get snatched too. With Alex gone, I just thought he was mixing everything up. At least, that’s what I thought. Then last night I found him out by the cornfield. He said he’d seen her out there.”

  “His mother,” said Pete. He didn’t once blink.

  “Yeah,” I replied. “In the cornfield.”

  I expected Pete to dismiss it as crazy kid talk. But he stared at me as if he were really listening. A first for Pete.

  “What else did he say?” he asked.

  “Nothing yet. I wish I hadn’t asked him about her. Stacey Ann’s probably been filling his head with crap about Alex. Now he thinks he sees his mom. I just wondered whether we should mention it to Doctor Peak. Did you call him yet?”

  As soon as I mentioned Doctor Peak, Pete went back to his gun. “Haven’t had a chance.”

  “But you’re gonna call him, right? About the tattoo?”

  I regretted saying anything as Pete slid into one of his moods.

  A horn tooted from the driveway.

  “That’ll be Willie,” I said, and grabbed my bag.

  Pete didn’t look up, no good-bye, no have a nice day. I knew what it meant. He’d take off somewhere and wouldn’t be back until late. I had work after school, which meant Jay would be alone for most of the evening unless I called Mrs. Baker and asked her to watch him.

  Mothers. The Stone family taboo.

  When would I ever learn to keep my big mouth shut?

  * * *

  In my experience, days that start badly rarely get better.

  First period: Rifkin, Lord of Grumpton, piled on yet more homework. Seth was sulking at lunch having heard that Willie planned to ask Jake out. And then Sally Machin must have heard about me and Andy going to prom because she bashed into me in the hallway, and then flounced off after sending a fatal look in my direction.

  By the end of the school day, I was ready to climb into bed. Except I had a shift at Mickey’s. Worse still, because of Rusty’s demise and Willie’s club volleyball practice, I had to go there straight from school . . . on the bus.

  There was something about the school bus that made me want to give up the will to live. First, it smelled like an old folk’s home, a mixture of baby powder and urine. Secondly, it picked up from the elementary school before it came to Crownsville High, and the little twerps on my route thought it was hilarious to yell “boobs” and pinch the asses of anyone over the age of fifteen who got on. I stood close to the school steps, staring at the beast as if it were my nemesis, here to vanquish me.

  “Mia?”

  “I know,” I snapped. “I’m getting on the wretched thing.”

  As soon as I spoke, I realized it wasn’t the usual scolding voice in my head. I spun around. Then I cringed.

  Sol stood behind me. He glanced at the bus.

  “You crept up on me,” I said, wanting to add “Again!” I was curious, though, about what he wanted.

  “Sorry about that.”

  I couldn’t help but accept his apology. The piercing intensity had gone from his eyes and—did I dare say it?—he appeared approachable. Of course, approachable is easy when you have the upper hand. I mean, he had just caught me talking to myself.

  “In my defense,” I said. “I don’t always talk to myself. I was getting psyched up for the bus.”

  For the first time ever, Sol Crowley smiled. And what a smile it was. It reached every part of his face, especially his eyes. At the same time, with a subtle shrug, he shifted his weight, left to right. His wide shoulders relaxed. His long, tanned arms hung loose at his side, and suddenly he didn’t seem as intimidating as the Sol I’d first spoken to only days before.

  “You should sit next to that kid who’s licking the windows,” he said.

  It was intriguing to hear him speak again. He had that sexy voice that came from somewhere deep inside his chest, one I could listen to all day. I was going to prom with Andy, but I was still human. Sol was hot. There was no way around it. I smiled too.

  “Who, Ike?” I said. I pointed to the bus where Ike Greenwald was, indeed, licking the windows. “He’s my best bud.”

  The bus door closed.

  “I should go,” I said, though for some reason, I really didn’t want to. Yes, I’d made my decision yesterday: No more dark, moody mysteries. Life from here on in was going to be light, bright, and fluffy. But Sol was smiling, making jokes. And I was curious—everyone was curious—about him. Besides, I still had to return his book.

  Two girls approached from the right, walking straight at Sol, obviously hoping to brush past him by the giggly expressions on their faces. Without so much as a sideways glance, he leaned away, foiling their plan. He had to have known he was their target, but he didn’t acknowledge it. I guess when you looked as good as Sol, you got used to being stared at all day.

  Torn, I glanced at the bus. Ike’s face was still pressed against the glass. Time for a decision. Get on the bus now or risk being late for my shift.

  “I’ll give you a ride,” said Sol, as if reading the torment on my face. “I can’t let you put yourself through that.”

  His motivation for the offer was a mystery. Maybe he wanted to talk about the dream bird or last night on the river. Maybe he’d finally decided to try to make friends at Crownsville High. But a ride? I didn’t know anything about him. Would I get into a car with a potential psychopath? Even if he was a cute one? Apparently, yes.

  “I’m actually heading to work,” I said. “At Mickey’s. On Main.”

  “I’ve seen you there.”

  The bus pulled away. Decision made. Sol Crowley was about to drive me to work.

  Everyone takes a turn feeling watched when they are in high school, but strolling across the parking lot with Sol, I knew every eye was on us. Word was bound to reach Andy that Mia Stone had climbed into the new kid’s truck. Half the school already knew Andy had asked me to prom. I felt my reputation begin to tatter. But it was too late to turn back. Sol actually held open the passenger door of his truck. He gestured for me to climb in.

  “Unless you think I’m the kiddie snatcher too,” he said.

  My cheeks burned as soon as he said it. “Of course not,” I replied, and to prove the point, I got in.

  But I wondered if I’d made the right choice when Sol got in and closed the door behind him. The cabin suddenly felt very small. His long limbs and broad shoulders filled the space. He pulled out of the parking lot.

  “So how do you like Crownsville?” I asked, unable to think of anything else to say, and wondering if this time I might get an answer.

  “It’s different,” he said.

  We stopped at a red light, and I caught him watching me out of the corner of his eye. I got the feeling he was studying me as much as I’d studied him.

  “No one really thinks you took those kids,” I said.

  He smiled. “I didn’t think they did until about a second ago.”

  Shut up, Mia.

  The light turned. Sol went back to watching the road. It was a relief. There was something about him I couldn’t pinpoint. It was as if he already knew me, or expected me to say something, but I wasn’t sure what. It was a little like when Rifkin called on you in class, and you realized that you’d been daydreaming and had no i
dea what the question was. I hated those moments because usually I filled them with pointless chatter like, “Is Crownsville High much different from your old school?”

  “Very,” he said.

  “And where was that?”

  Sol stared at the road. It was difficult to know where to look. His face in profile, with his straight nose and strong jaw, was as gorgeous as he was head on. His smile faded. I wasn’t sure why, but I was suddenly cast back to the ferry and Gus’s intensity as he gazed into the fog. Sol’s huge hands gripped the wheel, the tendons in his arms straining as he twisted the vinyl. “It was some place far away.”

  Another red light. I hadn’t noticed how many lights there were down here. As soon as we stopped, Sol again faced me.

  “Why were you on the river last night?” he asked.

  The cabin seemed to shrink even further. All I could see were Sol’s wide shoulders, his long arms, and the questioning look in his eyes. I glanced at his hands, which moments before had squeezed the wheel, and thought of Kieran and his crazy conspiracies. They were pretty big hands. Strong hands. The kind that could easily grab a kid off the street. I swallowed.

  “My car died,” I said, cursing Kieran for making me feel so uneasy. “Mr. Mason was giving me a ride to Miller’s Crossing.”

  “But why were you up there?”

  “Well . . .” I took a breath. There was no reason to feel this nervous, no matter how hard he’d twisted that wheel. Whatever the rumors were about Sol, he’d done nothing to deserve them. He wasn’t the most open guy, but he had just started at a new school. I couldn’t blame him for keeping his distance. It didn’t mean he was about to leave me dead in a ditch.

  “I was coming to return your book.”

  “So you know where I live.”

  “Everyone does.”

  “Are you often up at the Ridge?”

  A horn honked and our eyes snapped forward to find that the light had changed. Sol drove on.

  “Sometimes,” I said. “Mainly in summer. Sometimes we go to Jacob’s Lake. It’s about fifty miles from here. A couple of guys from school have homes up there.”

  “And the rest of the time?”

  “I don’t know. Just what anyone does in a town this size.”