MONDAY 4:47PM
“Where is Jerry?” Darla pulled back the blinds and peeked out the window.
“It’s like déjà vu all over again.” Mike threw up his hands.
Talia blew a purple bubble the size of a grapefruit and popped it with her fingernail. “And we can’t call or text him, cause the jammer is doing its thing.”
“Can’t we kill the jammer, then call him?” Darla pointed at the copper box. “Jerry must have reached the edge of its range by now?”
Mike shook his head. “I will not risk invalidating my results just because Jerry is slacking off.”
Lucy stood. “Do you guys still need me?”
Mike shook his head. “Your data checked out.”
“Then I’m out of here.” Lucy pantomimed addressing a golf ball, took a full swing, and shaded her eyes against an imaginary sun. “Three feet from the pin. Franklin Pierce is in for a world of hurt tomorrow morning.”
“Good luck.” Talia gave Lucy a thumbs up.
“Can you pick up more beer?” Darla mimicked chugging a can. “I think your boy Jim drank the last of it.”
“You got it.” Lucy saluted and walked out the door.
“Now what?” Mike sat at the table, watching the jammer.
“While we’re waiting, I should check out Jerry’s bedroom.” Darla glanced in the direction of the hallway.
“Under the roommate code, I can’t allow that.”
“Why not?” Talia shrugged. “I was in there.”
“That’s completely different. You’re not dating Jerry.”
Darla peered down the hall. “Is there anything I need to prepare myself for?”
“Do you have a hazmat suit?” Talia shuddered.
“That bad?”
“See for yourself.” Talia pointed. “Room on the left.”
Mike held his hands in the air. “If Jerry objects, I’ll say you two overpowered me.”
Darla stood at the door to Jerry’s room and closed her eyes. He had yet to disappoint her. She could handle a messy bedroom, but if he were an out-and-out slob, she’d rethink their relationship. She pushed opened the door, took one step in, cracked open her left eye, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Hilarious, Talia!”
A navy-blue blanket covered a well-made bed. No piles of dirty clothes or empty pizza boxes on the floor. The desk was neat and organized, a few yellow Post-it notes stuck to the monitor. Posters, mostly related to the Philadelphia Flyers, covered the far wall.
In the center hung a single framed movie poster: The Outlaw Josey Wales. Darla sighed. More Clint Eastwood. Hanging next to Clint was a top-heavy blonde spilling out of her orange bikini.
Darla inspected the only bookcase. Textbooks and required reading filled the top three shelves. The next shelf was devoted to paperback science fiction. The bottom shelf was filled with hardcover books on World War II, acquired mostly from used bookstores, judging by the stickers on the books’ spines.
On the nightstand, Darla found a photo of Jerry and a woman. Darla couldn’t help but grin. Jerry had to be twelve or thirteen, and he was positively adorable. The woman had dark hair and friendly eyes. This must be Jerry’s mom. Darla’s heart sank.
How could Jerry deal with such a loss? If Darla lost her mom, she knew she couldn’t keep it together.
Darla lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, and recounting the last four days. Jerry was certainly cute. He had proven to be funny, clever, brave, and ambitious. Plus, he was a joy to tease. And he gave the most amazing foot rubs. Definitely a keeper. She nodded to herself, stood, and walked back to the common area.
Talia grinned. “Did he pass?”
“Uh huh. But I’m thinking a conversation about that Kate Upton poster is in order.”
“If it solves the problem, I’ll hang it in my room,” Mike suggested.
Talia glared at him.
“Or maybe not.” Mike smiled sheepishly.
Jerry burst through the door, red-faced and out of breath.
“Jerry! Where—”
“Turn it off! Turn it off!” Jerry ran to the jammer and flipped switches randomly.
Mike shoved him away from the table. “Dude, what are you doing?”
Jerry grabbed the jammer’s electrical cord and yanked it out of the wall socket.
“Stop!” Mike shook Jerry by the shoulders.
Talia yelled, “Hey, this is a delicate piece of machinery! You can’t just kill the power like that!”
Jerry broke Mike’s grasp. “It’s jamming all the calls.”
“That’s the idea,” Mike agreed.
“All the calls. Including 9-1-1.”
Mike frowned. “Oh, I hadn’t considered that. But what are the odds that—”
“About one thousand percent. I was with Miranda. She was choking. But I couldn’t call for help.”
“Miranda? Our Miranda? What happened?”
“She tripped. I thought something was wrong. She couldn’t speak. I gave her the Heimlich. But it didn’t work. A campus cop came by and called for help. Then Miranda started turning blue...”
Darla grabbed Jerry’s hand. “Come sit with me.” She led him to the sofa.
Jerry held his head in his hands. “The EMTs had to stick a tube in Miranda’s throat. They took her away in the ambulance.”
“Someone should tell Busby,” Mike suggested.
Talia and Darla looked at Mike.
“I guess that someone is me.” He pulled out his phone. “I should go to the hospital. Talia, can you give me a lift?”
“Sure, let’s roll.” Talia grabbed her purse and backpack. “Darla?”
She put her hand on Jerry’s shoulder. “I’m staying here.”
Mike and Talia raced out the door.
Jerry’s body shook. “I tried to save her, but I couldn’t.”
“It’s okay, Jerry.” Darla put an arm around him.
“It’s not okay! Don’t you see? I can’t stop my friends from dying. No one believes me. No one’s safe. I don’t know what to do.”
“We’re safe. We have our rabbit’s feet. Nothing is going to happen to me or you.”
“According to Professor Harding, it’s not enough.” Jerry blew out his breath. “Everyone’s going to die, and I don’t know how to prevent it. Noah, Cassie, Vince, Miranda.” He seemed on the verge of tears, but sucked in his breath and held it back.
Darla looped her other arm around Jerry and pulled close. In his ear, she whispered, “Don’t talk or think about that stuff. Just hold me. That’s all you need to do right now.”
“Okay.” He squeezed her and buried his face in the crook of her neck.
“It’s going to be all right.” She ran her hands up and down his back.
Darla held him for five solid minutes before he broke the embrace. Jerry made eye contact and forced a smile. “Thanks, I needed that.”
“I said you’d feel much better. Go clean yourself up. And brush your teeth.”
“Huh?”
“Your breath.”
“Oh yeah. When they stuck that tube in Miranda, I threw up.”
“Better than me. I would have passed out. Now go.” She waved him away.
Jerry went to the bathroom, and Darla grabbed a Coke from the fridge and a glass of ice water for herself. She set them on the coffee table and waited on the sofa for Jerry.
He came back, sat down, and kissed Darla.
“Minty fresh. Much better.” She handed him the Coke. “To settle your stomach. Don’t guzzle. Tiny sips.”
“Thanks again. I’m re-energized. Wait till you hear what I learned from Professor Harding.”
“No.” Darla crossed her arms.
“No?”
“Jerry, you’re pushing yourself way too hard. You’re emotionally and physically exhausted. How much sleep did you get last night?”
“Not much. I stayed up late doing research, and I had an early breakfast date with this hot cheerleader.”
“Oh sure, blame it all on me.” Darla pushed him in the chest. “Lie down.”
“What?”
She pushed harder. “I told you to lie down.”
Jerry gently reclined.
“All the way.” She tossed the end cushions on the floor.
Jerry stretched out. His head and feet were propped uncomfortably on the sofa arms.
Darla shook her head. “Such a tall boy. Get up.”
Jerry sat up. “Now what?”
She took him by the hand. “We’ll have to use your bed.” She pulled, but Jerry remained seated.
“You can’t go into my bedroom.”
Darla shrugged. “I’ve already been. Mike said it was okay.”
“He did?”
“Come on.” Darla pulled harder, and this time Jerry stood.
In the bedroom, Darla gathered up the blanket and hung it over Jerry’s chair. They sat on the edge of the bed. Darla glanced at the photo on the nightstand. “Your mother was a lovely woman.”
Jerry’s eyes welled up. He fought back tears. “I miss her so much. Sorry.”
Darla hugged him. “Don’t ever apologize for loving your mom.”
Jerry composed himself. Grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and blew his nose. He balled it up and launched it across the room; it bounced off the side of his desk into the trashcan. “Two points.” He smiled weakly.
“Better?”
Jerry nodded.
She reached down, then tried to untie his shoelace. “Great, it’s knotted.”
“No problem.” Jerry used the toe of each sneaker to slip off the heel, his shoes now half on. “Watch this.” He flicked his right foot, and the sneaker tumbled through the air and landed on an empty spot on his bookshelf. He repeated the same motion with his left foot and the sneaker landed next to the other one.
“How much time did you waste practicing that?”
“It won me twenty bucks from Mike the first week we roomed together.”
“Fantastic.” Darla rolled her eyes, then slipped off her shoes. She put her hand on his chest and gently shoved. “Lie down.”
“Darla, if you’re suggesting what I think, now is not the proper time.”
“Down.” She pushed harder.
Jerry lay back, his head resting on the pillow, stretched out on the bed. He crossed his hands and placed them over his stomach.
“Nope. Arms at your side.”
He lifted his head. “Why?”
“You’ll see.” Darla crawled onto the bed, pressing her body against Jerry. She looped one arm around his waist and rested her head sideways on his chest, ear over his heart. “I love tall boys, they’re the perfect size.”
“This is nice. Now what?”
“Now nothing. We’re going to lie here. Not moving. Not talking. Not even thinking. No worries and no troubles. They don’t exist. Just you and me. I can hear your heart. Feel it beating in your chest. We’re going to be so still and silent that you can feel mine.”
“Is this some kind of meditation?”
“This is what my mom did with me when I got frustrated with gymnastics. Take it from a family full of overachievers. Sometimes you have to zone out, or the stress will kill you.”
“That makes sense.”
“Good. Now stop talking.”
The room became silent. The only noise was the occasional rattle from the heating vents or the passing shouts of students outside the window.
Darla lay there, her eyes closed, focused on the rhythm of Jerry’s heart. Strong and determined. Jerry was full of ability and able to accomplish great things. And she’d be right there beside him to help.
Twenty minutes passed. Jerry’s breathing became shallower, more relaxed. Darla lifted her head. The tension gone from his face and neck muscles, replaced with a hint of a smile.
“Jerry?” Darla whispered. “Are you awake?”
No answer.
Careful not to disturb her sleeping boy, Darla eased off the bed. She grabbed the blue blanket and tucked him in. She padded to the common area and grabbed her phone.
Darla texted Coach Nightlinger that her ankle would keep her out of practice. An acceptable white lie under the circumstances. Her phone chirped.
She returned to the bedroom. Darla couldn’t help but smile at the peacefully napping Jerry. She framed the bed with her phone, snapped a photo, uploaded to Instagram, and captioned it: My Sweet Sleeping Boy.
Three sharp raps at the door. Darla rushed to answer before the pounding woke Jerry. She opened the door to a campus police officer.
The cop’s eyes flicked down for a moment, taking in Darla’s legs.
Ugh, really? The ends of her mouth turned down into a frown.
“Gerald Williams?” the cop inquired.
“Jerry?” Darla answered in a loud whisper. She raised a finger to her lips. “He’s asleep.”
The cop didn’t modulate his voice. “Give him this when he wakes up.” He thrust a folded piece of paper into Darla’s hand.
Before she could berate him, the cop turned and departed. Darla closed the door and unfolded the paper.
From the Office of the Chancellor of Van Buren University
The University’s Emergency Management Committee
requires the presence of
Gerald K. Williams SID# 556-42-0826
to give testimony and information on matters concerning the safety and well-being of the student body and staff. The Committee Meeting will take place in Room 202 of Landon Hall on Tuesday, October 10th at 11am. Your appearance is mandatory.