The Wanderer
“I took Ham out for a run and stopped at Ben’s place. The guy who owns it now was working on it, so we checked it out, had a Coke. Nah, he’s okay. Well, he might be a perv, but I won’t let him touch my special places...”
Cooper almost fell off the couch.
“I’m leaving here and running home in a minute. If I run Ham hard maybe he won’t run in his sleep or snore all night. Yeah, everything is fine. Yeah, I locked the door. Yeah, I ate...that leftover Hamburger Kill Me shit you made the other night. Yeah, I got my homework done. Yeah, I— Jesus, Sarah! Let me talk to you at home, all right? I’ll call and check in when I get there.”
Landon stood up. “I have to go. Sarah and her husband used to keep separate schedules so I always had one of them around, but since the divorce she’s been a little neurotic.”
“I completely understand,” Cooper said.
Landon laughed. “No, you don’t, but that’s okay. I’m doing the best I can with her. She’ll lighten up eventually.”
“You want me to call you? Make sure you got home okay?” Cooper asked.
Landon shot him a look. “Bite me,” he said, opening the door.
“Hold on,” Cooper said, calling him back. He went to the kitchen counter and grabbed his cell phone. “Program my number into your phone.”
“Why?”
“So you can call me if you need me,” Cooper said. When Landon just stared at him and made no move to get his phone out of his pocket, Cooper went on. “Look, I’m going to be here awhile and I don’t have any ties. I don’t even have a dog. I’m usually around—no job and only a couple of friends. I’m the best person for you to call if you have some kind of, I don’t know, problem.”
“Like if I’m getting beat up under the bleachers?”
“Or if you run out of gas. Or the dog eats a bunch of fishing hooks and lures and wants to die and needs the vet and your sister is out rescuing other people. Or the old couple next door get in the cross fire when the mob is trying to take you out. Or—”
“Yeah, yeah, okay,” he said, bringing out the phone. “What is it?”
Cooper fed him the numbers. Landon plugged them in and put the phone away. “I want yours,” Cooper said.
“Why?”
Cooper took a breath. “In case I need help. In case I’m gagging on the mold in that shack of Ben’s. In case—”
“All right! Jesus!” Landon reeled off the numbers. “There. We’re all hooked up. But don’t be calling me. I have enough people watching me!”
Cooper chuckled as he watched Landon and Hamlet jog down the steps to the beach. Then he sat down to drink his beer and grew more serious. A picture came to mind unbidden—a little five-year-old kid, the family he knew snatched away from him, being slapped. A kid that age and size being starved as punishment? He should’ve been allowed anything; he should’ve been allowed to eat marshmallows for dinner if that got him through. And a five-year-old runaway? He was damn lucky to be alive.
Aunt Frances was going to have to work very hard to stay out of hell.
And yet this kid...look at him now. Just the kind of kid the deputy should want to take his daughter to the dance—athletic, humble, intelligent, humorous. Responsible. Who got the credit for that? Was Landon just an old soul? Or did the sister do something special?
Cooper had been hanging around because he was curious about Ben’s life, Ben’s town. Now he realized he had another reason. Landon shouldn’t be let down again.
Eight
When Landon got home from Cooper’s, he waited until about nine, then dug out the school roster he had for chem lab and dialed Eve’s cell phone. He’d never called her before. He never would’ve had the stones to call her for anything but chemistry if Cooper hadn’t said something about how his job was to keep her safe. He dreaded this, but fair was fair.
She answered sleepily. “Hullo?”
“Oh, hi. It’s Landon. Damn, did I wake you up?”
“Hmm, no, but I was reading history, which to me is as good as taking a nap. What’s up, Landon?”
“Well...I have to talk to you about something. About the dance. We might have a problem...”
“Oh, no!” she said, suddenly alert. “You’re going to hurt my feelings now, aren’t you? You changed your mind?”
“No! No way. But listen...” He paused and scratched his head. “Eve, I don’t want to make a big deal out of this, but I should tell you something. Something about Jag.”
“What? That he’s an ass?”
Landon couldn’t help it, he laughed. “Yeah, there’s that. And also, he’s not exactly happy with me these days.”
To his surprise, now she laughed. “Landon, he’s not going to be happy with anyone who can play football.”
“Huh?”
“He really thought, being a senior, this was supposed to automatically be his year to rule. He’d be mad at anyone who did better than him. Ignore him, he’s a loser.”
“Huh,” he said again, but this time it wasn’t a question. “Thing is, he’s a lot worse than not friendly. It’s like he’s gunning for me, y’know? It’s pretty hard to ignore someone who slams you into the lockers whenever he gets a chance.”
“Seriously? Landon, you can’t let him do that!”
“He doesn’t usually travel alone, Eve. He’s got a pack.”
She made a growling sound. “And I know exactly who they are, too. Sinclair, Wormitz and Pickering. All losers. You should tell someone. Like the coach, maybe.”
He rubbed a hand through his hair. “I think it’s different with girls, Eve. You know what it makes a guy look like if he can’t handle it? I don’t want to tell anyone, I want to handle it. He flies under the radar. He always manages to catch me at least semi-alone.”
“Because he’s a sneak and a liar. Want me to tell someone?”
“No! No. Listen, I only wanted to tell you because you and me, at the dance, it’s going to look to Jag like he lost one more thing to me. And I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. I don’t want him to even call you a name. You might want to rethink this idea of us going together.”
“Oh, I will. In fact, I just gave it a big rethink. Ashley asked me to double with her and her boyfriend and I thought no. I didn’t want to throw you into the deep end with people you barely know. But now maybe yes is a better idea. You haven’t been here long enough to get to know Ash’s boyfriend—he graduated last year. Crawford Downy. He just goes by Downy.”
He was silent for a moment. Thunder Point was proud of its football stars. Their pictures and trophies were displayed in the school’s hallways. “Isn’t he at State?”
“Yep. But he’s crazy about Ash and doesn’t like her to miss all the important high school things, and he sure doesn’t want her going with anyone else. Anyway, he’s all-conference alumni—he’ll be back for the game. He’s a very nice guy. And he’s also a big guy, very big.”
“Whoa.”
“So if it’s not a problem for you, we’ll double. Not for me,” she said. “Jag wouldn’t dare give me trouble. I’m not new here anymore, I have plenty of friends, plus there’s my dad... He’s not going to bother me. And he better not give you any more trouble. He’s such a creep.”
“Whoa,” Landon said again. “But listen, if you could somehow manage not to spread around that I was crying about getting picked on...”
“Landon, I wouldn’t do that.”
“It’s just that it’s kind of humiliating to have your girlfriend running interference...” When the words were out of his mouth, he cringed and hit himself in the forehead with the heel of his hand. He ground his teeth and listened to the long silence.
“Am I your girlfriend?” she asked softly.
“Well, that position is definitely still open....”
She laughed at him. “Where do I apply?”
“You can apply right now if you’re any good at chemistry. It’s really kicking my ass.”
“You’re better than I am. Didn’t you get an A on the last test?”
“I have to get A’s or my sister will finish the ass-kicking job.”
“We should hook up your sister and my dad. He needs a woman in his life to get him out of mine and Aunt Lou’s. We’re getting kind of tired of his hypervigilance.”
Landon kicked off his shoes and lay down on the couch with his phone to his ear. Ham settled in on the floor beside him. “Is that a fact?” he asked. “Be patient. Sarah got a divorce less than a year ago. She wants all men killed. All except me—I still get a pass.”
They talked like that for an hour, about their families, about school, about moving to a new town and settling in. Landon hadn’t done much of this kind of late-night, long talking on the phone to a girl. He’d never been shy, but he’d always been a little uncertain around girls. He just couldn’t believe they liked him. Athletically, he was confident; academically, not so much, but he was willing to put all his muscle into schoolwork. He had to. The only way he was going to go to college was on scholarship. But girls? There, his confidence failed him.
Eve McCain was easily the prettiest, smartest, best girl in school. They were in three classes together and he’d been watching her since school started, admiring everything about her. But even though they’d talked, he hadn’t approached her. He was friendly, he was helpful, but he’d been through too much lately and couldn’t handle rejection. He hadn’t had a date yet in his life, unless you counted gang dates for pizza or parties after games, and that was at his old school in North Bend, where he’d also been the new kid. He’d been invited to join “the crowd” at the Thunder Point beach, but given Morrison would be there, he’d made excuses and never went.
So after a rocky few months, this felt brand-new. And very sexy.
* * *
School let out early on Friday for the homecoming festivities, but not before a student assembly for the coronation. Since attendance wasn’t required, the kids who didn’t want to be involved in school activities skipped out. Landon considered leaving, but in the end, he was curious. He tucked himself into the back of the auditorium and watched.
There was a lot of pomp; the cheerleaders performed—minus the one cheerleader who was a homecoming queen candidate—the principal spoke, the football coach revved them up. Then the band played while the candidates walked down the auditorium aisles to the stage. They were all dressed up in formal gowns and nice suits. On the stage, they met, touched hands, gave a brief bow to the assemblage, separated and stood in a line of four girls and four boys. They would all ride in the parade later. After that, the football players would race into the locker room and dress for the game tonight.
Finally the results of the vote were announced. Stacy Kraemer and Justin Moore were crowned by last year’s royalty. Justin Moore? Not Jag? There was a part of him that thought, Karma’s a bitch, man. But another part of him knew that Jag Morrison would be in an even worse mood tonight. He’d been pretty cocky about this whole king business. It was customary to crown the football captain—unless he was an ass who not too many people liked. Justin was a tight end and good at his job; he didn’t hang with Jag.
Straight after the coronation was the parade setup. Each class had made a float. It wasn’t the Rose Bowl parade, but as floats went they weren’t too bad. Since only seniors could be nominated for homecoming king and queen, their class always got the float that bore the thrones. Justin and Stacy took their places, ready for the parade to begin. The juniors had a papier-mâché cougar on their float; the sophomores celebrated the harvest with a football player in its midst; and the freshmen paid tribute to the fishing industry with the bow of a boat and a papier-mâché marlin, even though you’d never catch a marlin this far north off the Pacific coast.