DAY
6
In my dream I returned to that wonderful meadow, where the sun shone bright and warm, and the grass was like a velvet hug on my skin. Toby was there. He held my hand as we lay on the ground, looking up into the sky, a sky that was the most welcoming blue and twinkled like a shimmering pond.
“I wish I could stay here forever,” I said, but I didn’t even recognize my own voice. It sounded more like my childhood voice, full of innocence and wonder at the world.
“One day you will,” Toby answered. His voice sounded younger too, and more free than I’d ever heard it before.
“Will we be able to stay here together?” I asked.
“That’s the plan,” Toby said, “but not for a very, very, very long time. And you are going to have to be braver and face even more trials until that day arrives.”
I squeezed his hand, for I was not fearful now. How could I be when I was in such a peaceful and safe place? Then, as I felt myself leaving, I heard Toby say, “I love you.” But when I opened my eyes and stared at the here and now Toby, I wondered if I’d just imagined that last part.
“Ready for your fun day?” he asked. He was clearly itching to go.
“What time is it?” I wondered, feeling snug in my bed and wishing I could return to my happy dream.
“Almost noon.” Toby sat up and stretched restlessly.
“Too early for Saturday,” I said, starting to roll over again.
“Not this Saturday!” He pulled off my comforter so only a thin sheet covered me. I shivered and sat up, so I started the day with nervous dread.
With a bit of breakfast in my stomach, my hair fixed and my new clothes on, I caught a bus to who-knows-where, as per Toby’s instructions. It took over an hour to get there. He had led me to an area of town that I’d never ventured to before, and when he told me to get off the bus, I looked up to see a huge grey building with the words “Mack’s Bowlaramma” written across the top.
I quickly checked to see if I was on my own then said, “Bowling? Is that the plan? Are you crazy?”
He wore a huge grin. “No, I’m not. I used to love to toss the ball down the lane on the weekends, so I thought you might like it too. If you don’t after one game, then we’ll leave, and you can choose what you’d like for the rest of the day. I won’t interfere again.”
Again I checked about me. “But I’m all alone!” I was embarrassed at the mere thought of walking into the building alone, but admitting I didn’t know how to play and setting up a game by myself was beyond my ability. I didn’t budge from the spot.
“Lots of people bowl alone.” Toby took a few steps towards the front door.
“Really?” I said unbelievingly, slowly following.
“Actually, I don’t know,” he admitted. “I can’t lie; I don’t remember much other than that I loved it. I gotta figure there are lots of people who bowl alone. I might have been one of them. I figure everyone there will be so into their own game, they won’t pay much attention to anyone around them. Come on. I have such good and strong memories of this place, and I really want to share it with you!” He seemed so excited, he couldn’t get there fast enough. I found it annoyingly contagious.
I followed more out of curiosity than belief that I’d enjoy myself, but I kept my steps slow and even. I was going to tell him that I felt like this was a long shot and we should maybe just look then go somewhere else when another bus came and several passengers disembarked. A few rowdy boys pushed past me and headed into the bowling alley. I followed them in. I had never been in a bowling alley before, so I didn’t know what to expect.
It was well lit, making it brighter than I thought it would be. With public smoking banned, the atmosphere was less hazy than it could have been. It reminded me of the school gym in its size and ceiling height. There was a carpeted area with several tables and benches in the middle of the room behind an administration desk/concession stand. Along the two sidewalls were several clusters of benches around what looked like computer screens. Each was at the top of a bowling lane with its own number hanging above it, under a television set showing animated pins dancing, arguing and sticking out their tongues.
“Can I help you, young lady?” the attendant asked as I neared the counter. Toby’s eyes widened as he looked everywhere, almost as if it were his first time in the place.
“Um,” I stammered, losing bravado as I stalled, “I want to bowl.”
“Well then, you’ve come to the right place,” the attendant said. He seemed friendly enough. He was a large man with a big gut and greasy hair, but when I answered, he smiled to reveal that he still had all his teeth, even if they were slightly discoloured.
“That’s Mack,” Toby explained while he rubbed his neck. “He’s a really nice guy, like a second dad to me…” He looked very pale as he watched Mack. I figured it was because we were so close to his past life. How would I feel if the tables were turned?
A boy with brownish-red hair and an olive complexion pushed past me. Mack turned his attention to this new customer, holding his finger up for me to wait. Toby watched as they interacted. I welcomed the break as I checked out the place myself. I saw a few other single bowlers and, as I watched, each one seemed to be enjoying themselves. This might not be so bad. I turned back to the counter as the boy strutted away. Toby narrowed his eyes, then when he noticed me, he relaxed and smiled.
Mack returned to me. “Sorry about that. He’s our star player.”
Feeling a little less nervous, I admitted, “I’ve never played before.”
“Well, I wouldn’t kick you out for that.” His voice was gruff but kind. It sounded like it should be coming from someone older-looking.
“Thank you,” I stuttered. Toby gave me a gentle shove, so I stepped up to the counter.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get you all set up.” Mack smiled again.
“Thank you,” I repeated a little too happily. I was ping-ponging between tension and relief.
“You betcha,” he said, and then when I continued to stand there, he added, “I need your shoes.” I could tell he was having fun with my inexperience.
“What for?” I asked
Toby chuckled. He seemed to be enjoying himself too now. “You need bowling shoes.”
“Why?” I asked, and I was relieved that it made sense to Mack as well.
“Well, to tell you the truth, I don’t like these shoes much myself,” he admitted, fanning his hands at the shelves of bright red shoes behind him. “I bought my own, but if you don’t have the right footwear, you could damage our floors.
I removed my shoes and placed them on the counter. He took them and handed me a pair of stiff, worn bowling shoes. “If they don’t fit, just bring them back, and we’ll get you set up right. And if they do, come on back still, and I’ll get someone to show you the ropes. It’s really easy, and once you’ve played one game, you’ll be an addict.
I took the bowling shoes over to a nearby bench and tried them on. They felt uncomfortable, and my feet were cramped in them.
“Sometimes they don’t fit the same as regular shoe sizes,” Toby said. I got the impression something else was on his mind, and I wanted to ask what it was. I felt a strange feeling at the pit of my stomach that I was beginning to suspect was actually Toby’s feelings, but I didn’t want to say anything, because I knew I was too close to other people, and I had no paper to use. So I lingered, hoping he’d say something, but he didn’t. That feeling continued to gnaw at my intestines.
After returning the first shoes for a second, slightly bigger pair that fit as well as they ever would, I went back to the counter where Mack was waiting. He stood on the outside of the desk, and when he spotted me, he waved for me to follow.
“I got the perfect person to teach you about bowling.” He was heading deeper into the building toward the lanes marked one to five. He stopped at lane three and called out, “Yo, Tony!” The red-haired boy looked up. “He’s sort of our bowling alley’s mascot, if you know what I mean,” Mack said. I hung back and watched as they spoke.
“Got a problem, the kind you’re good at,” Mack was saying. Tony was standing with three other guys. They all looked up and looked me over. I felt a bit like an animal on show, but more upsetting was the way Toby stepped in front of me in a protective way, as if he could stop them from being able to see me: he was air to everyone but me! He was also facing away from me, so I couldn’t read the expression on his face.
“What’s up, Mack?” Tony asked, peeling away from the pack and following Mack to where I stood. Tony didn’t know it, but he ended up stopping in the exact spot where Toby stood rooted to the floor. I thought I saw Tony shiver just a touch before Toby stepped to the side and pivoted on his heel to face me. He wore an expression of great discomfort, but I had seen him look just as put out when other people had walked through him.
“Well, Tone, this lovely young lady has never experienced the pure joy of bowling, and we want her to like it so she’ll come back…” Mack gave me a wink. “So, I was thinking you’d take a few minutes to run her through the drill, teach her a trick or too, maybe?” Mack studied Tony’s face while he took a moment to ponder the request.
My gut started to tighten as he scanned me head to toe and back up again. A tiny sparkle sprang into Tony’s eyes, and he gave a sly grin. “Sure thing.” He turned to Mack adding, “It would be my pleasure.” Then he quickly took three steps to close the gap between us. Behind him I could see his friends giving each other high fives. Had someone scored?
I quickly glanced over at Toby, not knowing what to do, or how I felt, but he didn’t look at me, so I was stuck with the events that had been set in motion. Is this what Toby thought would happen? Or did he want to teach me himself?
“I’ll put her on this lane then, and I can trust you to take good care of her?” Mack said as he turned to leave.
“You have my word on it,” Tony replied. He had deep brown eyes that felt vaguely familiar.
“You’re in good hands, young lady,” Mack said without turning back. “Just give me a few moments to get her set up.”
“Yup,” Tony answered, and then said to me, “Never played before?” I could tell Tony wasn’t a shy guy.
“Tone?” one of his friends called, but Tony just gave them a shooing wave.
“Never even set foot in a bowling building before.”
“Alley.” Tony smiled at me, and suddenly all apprehension or nervousness faded, replaced with a feeling like tiny champagne bubbles popping in my stomach—but in a good way.
“Well, this is like a second home to me. By the way, my name is Tony.” He put out a hand.
“I’m Mariah,” I answered, and taking his hand, I realized that I felt really comfortable with him, like he was an old friend I had already known from somewhere.
“Don’t worry, Mariah; bowling is one of the easiest games to learn. I can tell you’re going to be a pro by the end of the day.”
I blushed and thanked him, aware that he hadn’t released my hand yet. I stole a glance in Toby’s direction. He had taken a seat on one of the benches nearby. He looked lost in deep contemplation, his hand on the back of his neck.
“Looks like your scoreboard is ready,” Tony said, finally dropping my hand and going over to a chair in front of the computer screen. “How do you spell your name?”
I spelled it out. He complimented me on having such a beautiful name, and I could feel myself blush harder. After a few brief keystrokes, my name came up on the computer and the TV at the top of lane three, with a line of numbers and columns under it.
“’Kay,” Tony said, swinging around to face me.
He was interrupted immediately by one of his pals. “You’re up, Tone.”
“Ya. Get Larry to take my turn,” he called back. But he didn’t remove his eyes from me. His friends left him alone after that.
“Why don’t we go sit on that bench, and I’ll explain to you how the game works.”
I was the first to sit, and even though the bench was big enough for four adults to sit on it without touching, Tony sat so close to me that our knees touched. I felt a tickle working its way up my spine, something I’d never experienced before in my life. Toby took a seat on the other side of me and put a hand on my arm. He glared past me at Tony the rest of the time. Was he jealous that Tony was teaching me?
“Alright.” I was amazed at how just Tony’s gaze could command all my attention. “Bowling is all about balls…” He brought his arm up and slipped it behind my head. “You’ll get three balls to try and knock down those pins over there.” He pointed down the lane then started to fiddle with a loose strand of my hair, making me feel off balance. “Knock down all the pins— that’s really the goal of the game.” If you do it with just one ball, it’s a strike, and that’s the best score to have.” He continued on to the finer points of the game, the scoring and the strategies. I tried to listen but found it hard to keep track, since I was preoccupied by his touch and smell; he smelled like old spice (what my father had always worn), and I was lost in it all.
“Got it so far?” he asked, bringing me back to my senses. I nodded, though I wasn’t sure I did. “Good, I knew you’d be a quick learner.” His compliment made me beam, even though I knew in the back of my mind that he was just giving me a line.
I could see Toby scowling out of the corner of my eye, but I was quickly distracted by the lesson. It took almost fifteen minutes to explain everything, in which time Tony had missed three more throws in his own game.
“Can I show you how to throw the ball?” he asked, holding out his hand to me. I took it and was surprised when he continued to hold my hand all the way to the top of the lane. Toby followed and sat on the chair at the computer screen. I had thought Tony was going to do the first throw for me to watch, but I was mistaken. First he led me to the top of my lane, then he let go of my hand and grabbed my hips to direct me into the exact spot he wanted, and finally he came directly behind me, so that his front rested against my back, and he walked me through the steps of set-up and release.
I felt torn between two emotions: discomfort over being so intimate, yet elated over having this attractive boy enjoying my company! Why? Yet a third, strong and unpleasant emotion would wash over me whenever I caught sight of Toby: guilt. I tried hard not to look in his direction.
After walking me through the motions three times, I got the impression that Tony was stalling to spend more time with me. Why would he do that? Even so, my chest swelled at the thought, and I blushed. With Tony at my back I picked up my first ball, pulled it back and swung it forward, releasing it just as Tony had instructed. It hit the lane exactly where he said it should, but by halfway down, it ended up in the gutter.
“No big deal,” Tony said.
I saw his friends signaling to him to let him know he was going to miss his fourth turn. “You can go back to your game now if you need to,” I said as I stepped away from him. I felt bad at how much of his time I was dominating, especially since his friends seemed less than thrilled now. I hated feeling like I was making anyone unhappy.
“Yes, go,” I heard Toby breath from the chair he was sitting on.
“Or I could stay and play this game with you,” Tony rebutted.
I wasn’t sure what I should do next. In desperation I looked to where Toby sat, hoping he’d give me a hint. He shook his head and crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at Tony. Was he trying to read Tony’s thoughts?
Tony took my hesitation as a need for more convincing. He took me by my waist and turned me around. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel so uncomfortable with his hands on me… “I’ll help you more.” When I still didn’t answer, he asked, “Do you want me to stay? Please say yes.”
I wanted him to stay, heck, I’d have run away with him in that moment because of the way he was looking at me like I was the only girl on the planet. But I was having trouble with the way Toby seemed to be taking this turn of events. I didn’t want to hurt him, so I shrugged my answer.
“Alright,” Tony said, “how about a bet? If I can throw a strike with this one ball, then I’ll join you, ’kay?”
Was I being set up? I didn’t care. This way I could say yes without intentionally hurting Toby’s feelings; I could only imagine how he felt not being able to be seen by anyone but me, but I was quite enjoying interacting with someone real.
Tony didn’t hesitate, and within a few seconds, he had all five pins knocked down. “Wow,” he said with less than genuine shock, “I guess I am good.” He had a triumphant look on his face. “Guess that means I get to stay.” He swept my hand up in his and held it to his chest while he said, “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back. I’m gonna tell Mack to put me on your game card, then we can have some real fun.” Releasing my hand, he walked off confidently.
I sat down in the chair next to Toby. He was in front of the computer screen for lane 4, which was empty. I brought my knees up to my chin and hid my face in my arms so I could whisper. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s playing you.” Toby was picking at his threadbare socks. They were the same he’d had on since the first day he’d come into my life. “He’s trying to soften you up and swoop in. I’ve seen it many times before.” Beyond Toby I could see Tony’s friends sneaking glances at me sitting all by myself.
“What should I do?” I didn’t want to tell Tony to go away! I liked being with him. Even if he was softening me up, it felt good.
“I don’t know,” Toby replied, and he looked completely defeated. “Just be careful. We can talk more when we get back home; we’ll have lots of time then. Have fun, that’s what I brought you here to do, just be careful.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he fell silent.
I gave a jerk of a nod as I caught sight of Tony returning. Looking up at the television, I saw that Tony’s name had been added under mine. My first box had a strike in it from Tony’s throw, and I could see I still had one ball left to go.
“You gonna take your last turn?” Tony had gone straight to the alley and was holding out a green ball for me to take.
By halfway through our first game, I was sometimes able to hit a few pins down on my first ball, and more on my second and third. However, the only strike on my scorecard was still the one by Tony. He would have creamed me if we were playing for keeps, but it wasn’t that kind of game. Instead it was fun right to the end.
On his final frame, Tony turned back and said to me, as I stood off to the side behind him, “If I get three strikes in a row, you play another game with me.” When I didn’t answer, he threw the ball and got his first strike; then his second ball and a second strike.
Just as he pulled back for his third, Toby came to my side and said, “He’s going to do it.”
“Hmmm,” I said low so that no one could hear me.
“He’s done this before.” Toby didn’t seem impressed in the least. I wondered if he knew because he was glimpsing into Tony’s life or for other reasons, but I never got a chance to ask.
With a thunderous clap, five pegs hit the polished surface of the lane. Tony turned, triumph in his eyes, and ran over to me, sweeping me up in his embrace. There was a moment where I thought he might kiss me, but his friends coming over to us interrupted it. As they neared, Tony gently released me. I thought I saw disappointment in his eyes, or was that just a reflection of my own thoughts?
“Nice score,” said one, who was just a bit shorter than the other three, with a round face that looked like his skin was a bit too loose. He was plump, his eyes were brown-green, and his hair was light brown, with frizzy dry ends, giving him a fuzzy peach look.
“I’ve seen him play better,” said another, standing next to his identical twin, both with short blond hair and tanned faces.
“Mariah,” Tony said, sweeping his hand towards his three friends, “this is Larry,” the plump one smiled at me, “Sam and Sean, they’re twins, in case you didn’t notice.” I wasn’t sure which was which and never got it straight for the rest of the afternoon.
“How about we all play this next game together?” Tony offered, and when I didn’t agree immediately, he added, “My treat.” This got a good response from the three boys, and I couldn’t think of any reason not to, so Tony set it up with Mack, and soon we were all taking turns.
It was different playing in the group, a lot more sitting around and waiting. I was struck with the realization that this was the first time in my life when I’d been alone with a group of boys other than my brother’s thugs. I marveled at the difference, though as different as it was, I still felt nervous.
Tony seemed to play even better than in our first game, which came as no shock to any of his companions. My turn was just after his, so he’d wait for me and help me with my throw. In time I was able to get two spares, but no strikes. When he wasn’t throwing, Tony stayed glued to my side. I liked the way that felt.
None of his three friends seemed interested in talking to me, so I used the time between my turns to just sit back and observe. The four of them seemed close, the kind of closeness you get from years of being together sharing experiences and adventures, although it can sometimes happen much quicker. It was interesting to watch; they seemed to have a lot of inside jokes, so I felt constantly like I was missing something. They even spoke with the same catchphrases. And they were very physical with each other, giving rambunctious high fives and rather rough looking slaps, pushes and the odd noogie. Yet as tight as they seemed, it felt like something was missing. They would awkwardly pause mid-sentence from time to time or fall quiet for no reason, and a couple of times they would crack a joke then turn to Tony with apprehensive looks. I wondered if it was me that caused such subtle discord.
Toby, my shadow friend, stayed quiet, but extra close. He seemed to be even tenser initially when Tony’s friends came to join us, but as the game got on its way, he relaxed slightly. I continued to marvel at the similarities between Toby and Tony: just the similarity of the names was enough to get me intrigued, but even more interesting, they both seemed to have the same walk, same talk, and even the same way of sitting. It gave me chills, and I wondered if it was just because I liked them both, or did I like Tony because he was a bit like Toby?
The boys ordered fries for us to share, and Tony bought me a drink. I came in fifth, but it didn’t seem so bad, this being only my second game. Larry suggested we go and hang out at the food court in the adjacent mall. This made Toby so tense, he made fists and his fingers turned white. Only when I declined did he seem to relax.
I watched all four boys remove their shoes and head out the front door, and then I had Mack set me up for my third game, finally all by myself. Toby seemed much more light- hearted as I stood at the top of the alley lining up my ball.
“You really are doing good for your first time,” he said. I smiled in his direction and took my shot.
The ball glided gracefully up the alley and didn’t sway one bit from the course I had set it on. It hit the lead pin just perfectly off centre, and down tumbled all five! I jumped for joy and saw Toby do the same. I wished more than ever that I could have run to give him a hug, but instead I got embraced from behind.
“Way to go,” Tony said softly in my ear. I turned to face him. Looking down, I saw he had put his bowling shoes back on. “I didn’t feel like going to the food court if you weren’t going to be there. Mind if I join you for another game?”
“Okay,” I said, wanting to be kissed right there, but Tony let me go and threw his coat over the empty chair. “I’ll tell Mack.”
“Remember, he’s playing you,” Toby said softly from right beside me, causing a sense of reality to come crashing down on me. I didn’t want to hear it, so I moved over to the seat and breathed deep the smell that wafted up from Tony’s jacket.
“You can’t get away from me,” Toby said, sitting in the empty seat beside me but looking dejected. I gave a quick shrug and looked over at Tony as he talked to Mack. “Please be careful,” Toby pleaded. I pretended not to hear him. When Tony returned, I tried to stay as far away from Toby as I could.
It was a wonderful game. I got two strikes in total, and with each of my victories, Tony celebrated with me. He said that my success made him look good as a teacher. Toby kept trying to warn me, and he made it a practice to stay as close to me as Tony did, which meant that at times I was being book ended by the two boys.
I didn’t want the evening to end. Tony tried to entice me into a fourth game, but I was feeling like it was time to go home. It was getting close to dinner, and I could feel myself becoming distracted by hunger. On top of that, Toby was getting quite insistent, and I was finding it hard to think past him.
As we sat on the bench changing our shoes, Tony asked, “Where do you live?”
“Near the creek,” I answered, distracted by a knot in my laces.
“That’s a ways off. Did you drive?”
“No.” I pulled and tugged at my lace. “Took the bus.”
Tony, who had already managed to get into his street shoes, moved to kneel in front of me. Taking my foot, he set it on his knee to work out the knot himself. He had it untangled in seconds, and then he looked up and my breath caught. “I could give you a lift.”
“I need to talk to you,” Toby said in a commanding voice and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Now!”
I jumped slightly at the urgency of his tone. “Where are the washrooms?” I asked Tony, and he pointed down to the back of the bowling alley. “I’ll be right back.” I excused myself while Toby dragged me away.
He was agitated; he paced back and forth as I leaned with my back against the row of sinks. He took a few seconds to collect his thoughts, while he kept glancing at himself in the mirrors and shaking his head or rubbing the back of his neck. Finally, he stopped and turned to face me. “Don’t let Tony see where you live.”
“Why not?”
“I’ll tell you everything at home. Just please trust me. Tony is not the kind of person you want knowing your 411.”
I nodded, wondering if Toby could sense what I was feeling. I felt intoxicated, giddy, and very alive. Toby however looked a complete wreck; his eyes darted all around the room as if he were trying to see something that wasn’t there. I waited to see if he had more to say, because it looked like there was more, then I finally asked, “Anything else?” My voice was just above a whisper.
When I got out, I couldn’t see Tony and thought he had left. Disappointment fell like a lead balloon in my chest, but in moments he came sweeping up behind me.
“Coming, beautiful?” he said, catching me around the waist and starting for the door. I thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of his arm around me as we walked. But the more I enjoyed it, the guiltier I felt, and it didn’t help to have Toby sigh whenever my feelings started to overwhelm me.
Tony led me to an olive-green car—he said it was a Lincoln Continental— in the parking lot. With an air of pride, he told me his wasn’t in too bad a condition, and he was always improving it. He opened the front door for me to get in, and I was surprised to find the front was a bench seat. The back door opened out backwards. Tony explained that it was a suicide door, but Toby didn’t have to open it to slip into the car.
Tony was quiet on the ride home. He made the occasional remark and took directions when they were needed. Otherwise he seemed focused on the traffic, checking in his rear view mirror often. I guided him to a guest parking lot two blocks from my townhouse, the closest free parking near me, far enough away to keep Toby happy. It was surrounded by high cement walls, with a flight of hidden stone steps that went into my complex.
I thanked Tony for the ride, and he said, “My pleasure.” He said he hoped to see me again. “Perhaps this Wednesday? At the alley.” I assured him that I’d try and slipped from the front seat.
Toby acted agitated for over an hour after we were home. Figuring I wouldn’t like what he had to say, I allowed him as much space as was possible. I didn’t ask any questions or say a word while I made myself a light dinner. As miserable as Toby seemed I, on the other hand, was elated when I thought about the day. I’d blush at the memory of Tony helping me aim the ball; I’d catch myself smiling at the way he gave me a huge hug when I knocked my first pin down, and so on…then I’d check to see if Toby knew what I was thinking. Surely he could feel my good mood.
Finally he was calm enough to talk. We sat in my room with the door protectively shut. Between my four walls was a secret, private world, where Toby was very much real, and I was not afraid to talk with him freely.
His tone sounded like he was making a confession; he said, “Tony used to be my best pal.” My eyes widened until they felt like they might fall out of their sockets, but I kept my mouth closed as he continued. “I was sorta the leader.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a habit that I was slowly discovering meant he was having a deep thought or a memory. “Tony was my right-hand man. Together we were the toughest, meanest bullies of East Ridge High. I can’t tell you all the things we did, and I won’t. The list is too long and horrible to recount. But believe me, I’m sickened by it now.” Toby closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair.
“It all seemed so damned important at the time: social standing, keeping others in their place, the parties, the girls,” here he glanced at me, “the stupid, mean and dangerous pranks done in the name of fun.” Toby leaned heavily against the wall and rubbed his face in his hands as if trying to wash it all off him.
“It’s all meaningless now,” he said, taking his hands from his face and looking at them. I could see the remorse on his fine facial features. “I wish someone would have been able to tell me before now.” Then he rolled over onto his side and curled up into the fetal position.
I was filled with such compassion. He seemed to be hurting so deeply. I lay down next to him and rubbed his back. He rolled over to face me. “Why are you being so nice? How can you care about me? I would have showed you no mercy. I would have used you for my own selfish pleasures then tossed you away like a Kleenex, or worse, hurt you so badly, you wouldn’t have been able to live it down.” His voice shook as he choked back tears.
I brought my hand to his cheek and wiped at a tear that clung to the corner of his eye. I’d never seen a boy cry before. “I care because we are connected.”
Toby tried to sound casual. “You mean you care because you have to?”
I smiled “But you haven’t done any of those things to me.” And even though I knew what he told me was true, somehow I just couldn’t believe it about him.
Toby rolled away and buried his face in the sheets. I left my hand on his head, gently caressing his hair. I could feel his pain in the pit of my stomach like it was my own. As I tried to comfort him, I wondered what regrets I would have faced had I been the dead one. The regret of not truly living—of hiding myself away from the world?
Toby pushed himself up to kneeling and caught both my hands in his. “I know what I want to ask you to do,” he said with determination, though his hands shook slightly.
“Yes?” I said with mounting excitement, ready to face any task he asked of me.
“I need you to give Tony a message…from me.”
“What?” I gasped, for it felt like all the air in my lungs had disappeared. All I could think of was how much I had enjoyed being with Tony, and that would all change once I told him I had a message from his dead friend. Why had Toby asked me to do the one thing I didn’t want to do?
“It’s really important for me to tell him what I know before it’s too late for him!” Toby squeezed my hands. “You see, I’m responsible for Tony. I’m the one who taught him everything about living wrong.”
I nodded. I said I would do this for Toby, and I would, despite how much I didn’t want to. I didn’t have to like it; I just had to do it. “I’ll go on Wednesday. He invited me, so he should be glad to see me.” Until I tell him I am haunted by the ghost who was once his best friend, then he’ll call the cops on me, and never kiss me, I thought miserably.
“Thanks.” Toby let my hands drop as he sat back down. He seemed like he wanted to say something else, but we were interrupted by the phone ringing.
I raced up to the kitchen, Toby in tow, and answered only slightly out of breath. “Is this Mariah?” a familiar voice asked after I’d said a greeting.
“Yes,” I said, trying to place the voice.
“This is Cindy.”
Cindy from school? “Oh.” I was taken aback.
“Don’t get mad,” she said breathlessly. “But I snooped for your number in the janitor’s report about your locker.”
“Oh.” I was flabbergasted. She had gone to the trouble of seeking me out. Why?
“Um,” Cindy’s voice faltered, and she sounded flustered. “I was wondering what you were doing tomorrow.”
“Me?” I looked to Toby.
He smiled. “See, someone is interested in being your friend.”
A bubble welled up inside. Something I hadn’t even dared to hope for, for over six years, was unfolding right in front of me. It made me beam, but was it too good to be true? Toby fell to the floor as if something had knocked him over the head. He sat up to reveal a bruised cheek with a splatter of blood in one spot.
“Ya, you,” Cindy answered.
“I’m sorry!” I whispered as I covered the phone so Cindy wouldn’t hear.
Toby shook his head while he held his damaged cheek. Always the same side, I thought, feeling even more miserable.
“Answer her!” Toby said, pointing to the phone.
“Well…” I started hesitantly. I didn’t want to sound too eager. “I might have plans already.” Toby did a double take, looking shocked, and then he shook his head.
“Oh.” Cindy sounded crestfallen. Was she disappointed?
“No, hold on, I think I’m free,” I added quickly as she was starting to say her farewells.
“Really?” Hope returned to her voice.
“Yes. I couldn’t remember if I had something planned, but I’ve checked now,” I added lamely.
“Oh, so then you aren’t busy.” She hesitated then said, “Because I called to ask: do you want to meet up with me at the mall?”
“Absolutely.” And I couldn’t help myself smiling so widely that I felt my lips cracking. Toby grinned at me. After planning it out, I hung up and said, “Did you hear that? She wanted me, me to hang out with her.”
“I heard. That surprises you?” Toby asked. He was back on his feet, and he reached over to give me a slap on the back.
I steadied myself and confessed, “It does.”
“It doesn’t surprise me.” Toby flinched and rubbed his jaw.
I looked down at the ground. A guilty feeling squirmed like a fish swimming upstream in my belly. “I’m really sorry about that.”
“I know.” He never got mad.
“Why does it keep happening?”
“I have a thought.” Toby put his hand on my cheek so that I’d look at him. “Don’t worry, it’s just one aspect of our time together, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything… Now, what are you going to wear tomorrow?”
We spent over an hour picking out my clothes. It was only after my teeth were brushed and I sat in bed under my covers that I came back to his bruised face. He was sitting at the foot of my bed, his back against the wall, staring at my stuffed unicorn collection.
“What’s your theory?” I asked with my head heavy on my pillow.
“Actually, I’m still trying to work out all the points,” he admitted. “Can you give me some time to put it together? I promise to tell you as soon as I’ve got it.”
“Alright,” I answered, finding it odd how comfortable I’d become with Toby, a boy! In fact, I was really beginning to like it. As I was carried off into dreamland, I had one fleeting thought: I wished Toby was a real boy, and he could be my boyfriend. Rolling over, I felt my foot rest against his leg. Warmth spread through the sole of my foot as my wish played itself out in my dreams.