Envious Moon(38)

“Yeah,” I said.

“So just go to the school there, pull up, find a couple of girls and ask them. Say ‘I have a package for Miss-whatever-her-name-is and can you tell me where I can find her?’ Bet they give it right up.”

“That’s not bad,” I said, thinking it over.

“Hell no,” said Terrence. “It’s good, what it is. That shit’ll work.”

I was actually grateful and showed it. I raised my beer to him and we clinked bottles. “Thanks, Terrence,” I said.

“Then you can do whatever it is you going to do to her,” he said.

“I told you I’m not going to do anything to her.”

Terrence drew on his cigarette and he looked away. “What you say, boy.”

I braced at this. I felt an anger come over me and when I looked at him, he had turned back toward me and his old face framed by his gray hair had a smug look on it. I could have smashed it with the beer bottle in my fist, that’s how I felt about it. I said, “I’m not going to tell you again about that.”

“Whoa, boy, relax,” said Terrence.

I lighted a cigarette, breathed in. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” Terrence said. “Have another beer.”

I swallowed the last of what I had and took the new beer from him. I drank it quickly. I was thankful for the idea and for the beer but I wanted to be away from him. I wanted to hit my bedroll and shut my eyes against the day.





The next morning I drove to Litchfield under steely skies and at the pharmacy I bought cigarettes, a big padded envelope, and a pen. Back at the campsite I saw that Terrence had once again left and I sat on the hood of my car and I wrote Hannah’s name on the envelope and below it I wrote, Miss Watson’s School. The day was cool and breezy but I didn’t mind. I was filled with anticipation for what I was about to do.

I hiked back through the woods and when I reached the clearing that was the soccer fields, I stopped and I waited. My heart was somewhere between my chest and my throat, to tell you the truth. There were no girls around and I figured they were in class. I waited until I heard the shrill of a bell and then I left the woods and boldly walked across the soccer field. I reached a pathway that cut between buildings and stood there, thinking that any minute the state police were going to come bounding toward me, telling me to put my arms in the air, to stay where I was. Instead I heard voices, girls’ voices, and from between the buildings came a knot of girls, four of them, and when they approached me, I did my best to look lost. I saw them taking me in, my jeans and my workboots, my flannel shirt, and I pretended to study the empty package in my hands. When they reached me, I said, “Excuse me.”

They stopped. Stared at me. I looked down at the envelope again. I gave it my best voice. “Can you tell me where I can find,” and I paused and looked down once more. “Ms. Hannah Forbes. Where her room is?”

Behind them I saw more girls coming. No sign of any teachers, though. Or security. I did worry that any moment Hannah would come around one of the buildings and see me there. I had no idea how she would react.

The tall girl in front said, “Hannah’s in Fuller.”

Next to her, a small blond girl said, “All packages go to the mail room.” She pointed to a low building to our left. “In there.”

I ignored her. “Do you know her room number?”

The tall girl said, “I think she’s in 104.”

“No, it’s 105,” a girl in the back said.

“Yeah, 105,” said a third girl.

“Great, thanks,” I said. A few more girls passed us and I turned and started to walk away. I stopped and studied the envelope until the girls I had talked to had moved on and I could see their backs. Then I took a right over the soccer field. I kept walking and when I was over a rise, I broke into a run and didn’t stop until I reached the safety of the woods.





That night was dark and without moon. The nights were darker here in the woods than they were at home, where the ocean, even on cloudy starless nights, seemed to hold some of the light of day. I ate a fast-food dinner and sat around the campsite wishing I had some beer. I was real jumpy and I chain-smoked and watched the night come on. The evening seemed to stretch on forever and when I took off through the woods, it was all I could do to keep myself from running.

I came onto the campus the way I always did now, across the soccer field and I ran in a half crouch crossing it, heading for the cluster of brick dormitories on the other side. I stopped behind a tree when I reached the pathways lined with streetlamps and I looked around. The place was deserted, as it always was at this time, the girls safely ensconced in their dorm rooms. No sign of the security guard. No sign of teachers. No cops. I ran across the small quadrangle and in between two of the dorms, stopping to rest with the brick of Fuller Hall, where Hannah was, behind my back.

Two floors of windows were next to me, most of them still lit. Behind one of them was Hannah. My challenge was to discover which one.

I could eliminate the second floor. Room 105. That had to be on the first floor. If odd numbers were on the right, and even on the left, it should be the third one in, I figured, a mere thirty feet or so from where I stood.

I went to this window and stood in front of it. The shade was drawn but on the left side there was a sliver of open space. I put my eyeball right to it and tried to look in. I saw a lamp on a desk and behind it I saw what looked like the metal headboard of a bed. But that was all I could see. I stepped away from the window. I thought about what I should do now. I couldn’t just knock on it, since there was no way of knowing for certain that it was Hannah’s room. I had only one bite of the apple, I figured. Behind me I heard a footfall, like someone stepping on a branch, and I froze where I was. I looked to my right and I saw the light of a flashlight. I went quickly to the side of the window and leaned my body as far as it would go into the brick. A beam of light danced across the space I occupied between the two dormitories. It flitted over my head and caught my boots in its light. Then it was gone and I heard whistling. The security guard doing his rounds.