After School Page 6

lot. I’m sorry about what I said to your partner before.”

  Julie nodded. “It’s fine. Take your son home. I think he’ll let you now.”

  She walked over to Clark. “We’re done here for right now.”

  Clark shook his head. “You realize I would’ve asked the boy the same questions you did, right?”

  She turned to him and said, “It’s not always about what you ask, Clark.”

  Clark shook his head. He grumbled under his breath and watched as Julie walked off the beach.

  Eric’s father helped him to his feet. “Let’s get you home.”

  Clark was waiting at the edge of the beach. “Sorry about keeping you here so long. If we need anything more from you, we’ll let you know.”

  “No offense, but I hope we don’t have to see you again.” He ruffled Eric’s thick, blond hair. “Eric’s going to be scarred by this, and the sooner we can put it behind us, the faster he can heal.”

  It was dark out now. The rest of the day seemed a blur to Eric since he left the beach. He didn’t even remember the ride home.

  He stared out his window. Nobody was around. It was quiet aside from the sounds of his father supervising Susie’s bath time in the next room. She sounded so happy. He wondered if he ever sounded that happy. Or if he ever could again.

  The quiet was interrupted by the blare of a motorcycle outside. He watched one of his neighbors ride down the street, turning a corner.

  He imagined the dead boy on a bicycle. Had he ridden by the house before?

  Eric had seen that face before. Church. School. The mall. Somewhere. He just couldn’t remember. Or maybe it was all in his head.

  He turned to his dresser and noticed a picture of himself two years younger in his baseball uniform, gleefully holding his bat on the field. He looked so happy then. He picked up the picture and ran his hands across it. He couldn’t believe that was really him. He looked up at his reflection in the mirror. The boy he saw staring back was only a few inches taller than the boy in the picture, but they didn’t look anything alike to Eric.

  He tried to remember life back in that picture – before his mother got sick. He had friends. He never thought about death unless it was a bad guy being killed a movie. In real life, people only died when they were old. He missed thinking that.

  He didn’t think he could ever smile like that again after what he’d seen today. Even after his mother died, he still clung to the idea that death was for adults. He always knew that kids could die, but it felt like something that only happened on the news.

  He put the picture back, turning it facedown. That boy was gone.

  He began to pace. He saw the dead boy’s face everywhere in the room. On his anime posters. In the soccer ball borders. Even in the crucifix hanging above his bed. He rubbed his eyes and tried to make it go away. But it wouldn’t stop.

  He heard Susie’s dancing in the hallway and then heard her bounce on her bed.

  “Eric.” His dad knocked on his door. “If you just want to go right to bed tonight without a shower, that’s okay. I know after today, you might be a little afraid of the water. I just wanted you to know that it’s okay. Just try to get some sleep.”

  Afraid of water? That was silly. Eric threw his clothes off, leaving them where they fell on the floor. He wasn’t afraid.

  He walked to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

  Once in the shower, he hesitated before turning it on. He wasn’t sure why but he knew that it wasn’t because he was afraid of water. He forced himself to pull the handle. A burst of cold water rained down. He quickly turned it to the left to make it a little warmer.

  He stood still a moment as the water dripped from his bangs. He looked down at his feet on the porcelain. They were shaking. He flashed to the ocean again. His feet on the soft chest of that boy, his heels just above the naval.

  He moved his hands across his chest to his navel. His skin was just as soft, only he had a pounding heartbeat. He ran his hands down his arms and legs. He tried to remember how tall the dead boy looked and he tried comparing their heights. They had to be close. Everything about that boy seemed so much like himself.

  Eric gasped for breath a moment before wailing. Tears spilled from him and mingled with the shower water. He was crying so hard. He never remembered tears like this except for when his mother died.

  Eric’s legs gave out. He crashed to his knees. He knocked down the metal soap dish, which landed with a loud bang as he fell.

  Eric stayed still. He didn’t even want to get up. As the water washed over his back, all he thought of was the water washing over the dead body.

  Eric’s father burst into the bathroom. “Eric! Are you alright? I heard a crash. Did you fall?”

  “Go away, Dad.” Eric’s voice was trembling.

  “Eric, you don’t have to go through this alone. What happened today was pretty traumatic for you.”

  Eric stood up. “What do you know?” He punched the wall. “You never found another kid dead. I did. So you can’t help. He’s dead and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t make him not dead.”

  His father took a deep breath. “No, I can’t. But when your mom died, I tried not to talk about it. It made it hurt more. When I talked to our friends from Church…that did help.”

  Eric’s sobs grew louder. “That boy is dead. He’s dead. He’s never going to be alive again.” Eric took rapid deep breaths. “Yeah, maybe he’s in heaven now, but he’s still dead. And I still found him. Talking to you, or anybody, ain’t gonna change crap.”

  “No, but neither will letting it get you down. You might not forget what happened, but you can at least make some peace with it. You won’t do that by trying to deal with it alone.”

  Enough of this. Eric had to get away. He shut off the shower and grabbed his towel, wrapping it around his waist and pulling aside the curtain. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? Damn it, Dad. Just stop. Nobody can help.” Eric stormed into the hall.

  His father chased after him. “Eric, I know you’re upset. You’re right to be. But you can’t run from this, Eric.” He gently grabbed Eric’s shoulder as they entered his room. “You’re not going to just get over this on your own. Let me help you.”

  Eric stopped. He remembered his father holding him the night his mother died. His chest had hurt so much. His father’s strong arms made him feel safe. But he was a little kid then. He knew more now. His father couldn’t hug away his pain. If only he could…

  Eric wanted to run but his legs froze. He missed being little. He missed not knowing about death.

  Eric began to sink to the floor, giving up the will to stand. He just wanted to be held again. He let his father’s arms catch him.

  “Oh Eric.” His father gently lifted him from the floor, wrapping his arms around him. “You’re okay, Son. I’m here. You’re not alone.” Eric’s father looked him in the eyes. “It’s okay, Eric. It’s all going to be okay. Daddy’s here.”

  Eric started to wrap his arms around his father. Then he pushed himself away. He walked to his dresser, holding his now-loosened towel up.

  Eric glanced at his dad then averted his gaze.

  “I love you, Eric. I want to help you. I’m here whenever you’re ready to talk.” His father walked out.

  Eric waited until he heard his father walking downstairs before dressing himself in his checkered summer shorts.

  Eric stared at his bed. He remembered his father waking him up that morning – smiling and trying to sing some song about fishing. Eric had laughed before he even opened his eyes. He wanted to laugh again.

  Eric felt his chest ache. His dad loved him. He couldn’t shake the feelings of guilt for blowing his dad off. He knew that his dad was only trying to help.

  He decided to go downstairs. If only to tell his father that he loved him too.

  The moment Eric’s feet touched the bottom of the stairs, his stomach churned.

  His dad was lying on the floor, a narrow, bloody
slice across his neck.

  Eric ran to his father. “Dad! Dad.” He touched his father’s face – still warm. But his father didn’t move. He knelt down. “Dad, we have to talk. Remember? I want to talk now. Daddy! Please.” Eric shook his father on the chest. He felt that same stillness he’d felt on the boy’s.

  His father’s shirt grew damp with Eric’s tears. “No.” He shook harder. “Dad. You can’t be gone. You gotta make sure we’re okay,” he wailed.

  Who could do this? He looked around but he saw no one. The front door was still shut.

  The killer might still be in the house.

  Eric listened for movement. All he heard was the distant hum of the air conditioner. Susie was still upstairs asleep. Eric knew he had to be brave. He had to get her to safety.

  Eric took a few deep breaths to get his nerves in order, then darted up the stairs. His foot caught a step, falling forward. He shielded his face with his hands. They stung upon meeting the carpeted steps.

  He pushed himself to his feet. There was no time to rest.

  When he was upstairs, he ran down the hallway, which seemed ten times longer than he remembered.

  He barged into Susie’s room. “Susie, we gotta go. Now. Someone bad’s here.”

  There was no reply. She always was a deep sleeper.

  “Susie, wake up already.” He charged to her bed and shook her.

  There was still no response.

  He felt something sticky on his hands. He pulled his hands back and saw from the hallway light that they were covered in blood – her blood.

  “Susie.” He felt his eyes burning again.