Lure of the Night Page 2

  “Excuse me, I have things to do,” Mrs. Andros said.

  She left us. I was struck by a sudden thought. “Why do you wear those thick glasses at school?”

  He seemed to think for a few moments. “It’s a condition, Claire. My eyes are kind of sensitive to daylight.”

  “You don’t have any problems with the darkness though, that was incredible the way you could see out there.”

  He nodded, didn’t look like he wanted to talk about his vision. But I wanted to talk, wanted him to talk, when he spoke to me I felt something really good deep inside me, a feeling of relief from the usual crap that people tell each other. His voice was like a cool shower on a hot day, it sort of built you back up when you felt like a mess.

  I heard a soft ‘yip’ from outside, the dogs, Mrs. Andros must have opened the door and let them in. They came into the living room, two beautiful, large dogs, some breed I’d not seen before. They were pretty big, with squashed faces that made them look funny. I remembered they seemed to have the same kind of night vision as Ethan.

  “Tell me about the dogs, how come they can see as well as you at night?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it, I suppose it’s in their genes.”

  I wanted him to keep talking, to submerge me in a torrent of poetic words from that beautiful face. “Those names you called them were weird, what were they?”

  “Scylla and Charybdis, they’re from the old Greek myths.”

  I vaguely remembered now, something from a school history class, or was it English?

  “Do you like living out here in the woods?”

  He smiled softly, as if he understood my need for him to keep talking. “Yes, I’ve lived here all my life, it’s quiet here, nobody bothers us.”

  “Except me,” I grinned.

  “It’s no bother, Claire, I’m quite pleased I found you out there, it was a pleasant surprise.”

  I shivered as he said that. So I was a pleasant surprise, was I, that was good to know. At least someone could be nice to me. And if someone was going to be nice to me, I was more than happy that that person would be Ethan Andros. I heard the sound of a car pulling up outside.

  “That’ll be my mom.”

  “Yes, I’ll show you out.”

  He got up and came over to me, put his hand on my wrist and helped me up. His touch was cool, strong, positive. There was no fifteen-year old boy gaucheness there, I guessed he was a teenager who knew what he wanted and how to get it. As we walked through the door into the hallway one of the dogs brushed past me and I stumbled. It was uncanny, he’d held me even before I tripped, as if he knew what was about to happen. I guess he was used to it with those large dogs dashing around the house, but his cool strength was a buzz. Mrs. Andros had opened the front door and Mom appeared there.

  “Honey, I was so worried about you, how did you get lost in the woods? I thought you’d been kidnapped.”

  The difference between Mom and Mrs. Andros was even more marked now. Mom was all stringy, edgy, almost neurotic. Her eyes were angry, her face all pinched and peevish. Mrs. Andros was so calm and confident, like some kind of a regal princess from an old black and white movie.

  “It just happened, Mom,” I mumbled.

  “Well let’s get you home and to bed, we’ll talk about it later,” she snapped.

  I turned to Ethan. “Thanks again for helping me out. I guess I may see you in school tomorrow.”

  “That would be nice, Claire. I’ll look forward to it. Take care now, Stella and her people could do you a lot of harm.”

  The way he said my name was awesome, it had a kind of musical ring when he said it. It was weird, I mean, a simple name, one syllable, ‘Claire’, but he made it into almost a tune. As he spoke, he looked at me directly with those beautiful, sincere eyes. I wanted him to tell me when to meet him, maybe for us to sit together at lunchtime and talk things over, I waited but nothing happened, he was silent. Then I suddenly thought, how the hell did he know it was Stella and her friends that had bullied me? Had I told him? I must have, I guessed, but I didn’t remember saying anything about Stella.

  “Come on, darling, let’s get you home,” I heard my mom say.

  I said goodnight to the Andros’s, mother and son, and got into Mom’s car. She started up and drove away. “What the hell happened?” she snapped almost before the wheels had started to roll. “Was it some boy, was it that Andros boy? Did you go to meet him?”

  “No, it wasn’t him, he helped me out. I got lost that’s all.”

  “I don’t know whether I can trust you next Monday, I might have to cancel my class.”

  I sighed loudly, it was always her, her, her. “I’ll be ok, Mom. Say, do you know the Andros family, Mrs. Andros seemed to know me?”

  “No, I don’t know that family!”

  We drove the rest of the way in silence, when we got home she sent me straight off to bed. I didn’t need to be told, I was exhausted, almost before my head hit the pillow I was awake again and getting ready for school. As usual, Mom had put out my clean uniform. I looked at the skirt.

  “Mom,” I shouted down the stairs. “What the hell is this you expect me to wear?”

  “Those short skirts don’t keep you warm enough, especially if you’re out late,” she said.

  So what, I was going to make a habit out of getting lost in the woods? The skirt was my older tartan school skirt, longer and thicker wool. She wanted me to look like a total nerd, it was crazy. I stormed down the stairs in my bra and panties.

  “What the hell are you doing making me wear that long skirt, they’ll laugh at me if I turn up wearing something stupid like that?”

  “Well I don’t care,” she hit back. “If you’re going to walk around in the dark and cold weather, getting lost in the forest, you need to wear something warmer.”

  Of course, this was the punishment for last night, thinly disguised as ‘caring’ for me I was about to really argue when I let loose with a huge sneeze, I mean, really huge. Within minutes I’d gone from healthy kid to sick kid.

  “Claire, you’re not well, get back to bed, you’d better take the day off school and stay in bed. And get your long nightgown on, you need to stay warm. I’ll fetch you a hot honey and lemon drink.”

  Ok, so maybe it wasn’t all bad. A day off school, a day away from the misery, the bullying, the boredom. “Right, Mom, if I have to.”

  “You do, darling, go on, I’ll be up to see you before I go.” Suddenly she was all sweetness and caring, she could be like that, my mom. Weird. I went back upstairs and struggled to get into my long gown. It was thick, brushed cotton and came down to my ankles, then buttoned up to the frilly neck, which matched the frilly cuffs at the ends of the long sleeves. I hated it, Mom made we wear it to bed when I had a cold, to keep me warm. Which I guess it did, but I think she made me wear it because it was so vile, to make sure that I wouldn’t stay off school unnecessarily. I felt like an old grandmother when I was forced to wear it. If anyone saw me in it I would be forced to leave the country, or maybe join the marines. Did they take women, these days, I wondered. Whatever. The one thing I would miss today, though, was seeing Ethan at school. I just wished I’d been able to go to school today of all days, I knew that I desperately wanted to see him again, to feel his strong presence wash over me, it was such a safe feeling when he’d found me and took me home, hard to explain. I was certain he wanted to see me again too, it was like we were mutually attracted to each other. Was this love at first sight? I could live with that. Oh Ethan, I wish you were here now. He seemed to know me, saw through the armor that I wore on the inside to protect me from the world outside.

  She brought me a tray with some breakfast and a hot drink, her patent cold remedy, hot honey and lemon. Then she kissed me and said goodbye. Mom was some sort of a salesperson, she sold real estate or insurance, I wasn’t sure which, maybe both. I knew she was big on power dressing and went to people’s homes with a leather briefcase, but the rest of it was
a bit of a mystery. After work, she picked me up from school and often then went out to hang around with her friends, other salespersons maybe. They went to each other’s houses when they weren’t out at restaurants or meetings, the gymnasium or the country club. I’d met the kids of some of her friends on occasion, they looked the way I felt. Crap. I thought about it briefly, how did I really feel? Lost, yes, I guess that was it, I was totally lost, didn’t know where I was going. Crap as well. Yep, that’s the way they looked too. Is that the way the kids of salespeople all over the world looked I wondered? What if my mom was a teacher, how would I look then? There was Amy Weinstock at school, her mom was a teacher. Amy was a bit overweight, spotty, lank hair. Christ, no, I didn’t want to look like that. I was still trying to work out who I wanted to be like when Ethan poked his head around my bedroom door.

  I nearly had a heart attack. “Christ, Ethan, what are you doing here?” A terrible thought struck me then. “Are you some kind of a weirdo, are you here to molest me or something?”

  He looked anxious. “No, no, Claire, not at all. I was just worried about you, after last night when you weren’t in school, I didn’t know what to think. I thought they might have…” he trailed off.

  I was reeling, like, my brain had gone fuzzy around the edges. He was a boy, here, in my house, in my bedroom even, well, standing at the door, it was as good as actually being in the bedroom. I should have dialed 911 and called the cops. But I didn’t. I really did feel like crap, what with the cold and everything, if there was one person who could have cheered me up, he was standing right there, his dark, liquid eyes shining with warmth and concern.

  “How did you get in the house, Mom always locks the door?”

  “She must have forgotten to do it this morning, it wasn’t locked.”

  I looked at him hard, I knew she never, ever forgot to lock the door. It was like her life depended on it.

  “You broke in didn’t you? Did you pick the lock or something?”

  “Something like that, yes,” he said.

  I was glad he was now being honest, at least there was that. Well, no, there was more than that. He was totally gorgeous. And he liked me.

  “Well, I’ve just got a cold if you must know, I expect I’ll survive.”

  “Do you want me to do anything for you?” he asked.

  I wasn’t sure how to answer. I’d got over the shock of him being here, almost in my bedroom. Then I decided I had to spend some time with him, I’d be stupid to miss this opportunity. “Look, I’ll come downstairs, we can have a chat, it doesn’t seem right you being outside my bedroom door.”

  “Ok,” he said.

  I got out of bed and oh, shit, I’d forgotten that I was still wearing my awful pink nightgown. But he didn’t even stare. I pulled my robe on over it, then he went ahead down the stairs. We sat down in the living room in opposite each other. He’d sat down first, what if he’d sat down on the couch?

  “Well,” he said.

  “Well,” I said.

  We just sat there saying nothing. I didn’t mind, I liked looking at him. He had the thick, plastic glasses on today, like I remembered he always wore at school, he’d said his eyes were sensitive to light. They had a slight tint to them and looked a bit dated, but now I knew what his eyes were like without them, I could make out the beauty and richness of them behind the ugly plastic frames. He was wearing jeans, tapered, narrow jeans. Sneakers on his feet and a floppy black t-shirt underneath a beautifully cut jeans jacket. Very cool, very casual. Not school uniform, though. In fact, it was the way I liked to dress when I wasn’t in uniform and wanted to wear something nice. We obviously thought along the same lines, in terms of clothes. That was promising.

  “You weren’t going to school today anyway, were you?”

  “How did you know?” he asked, surprised.

  I laughed inside, boys, what did they know? It was cool being one up on him. But what was really cool was that he was here, the boy I wanted to visit and cheer me up had miraculously appeared. But of course I knew, whatever he was doing roaming the woods in the middle of the night when he found me, it wasn’t likely he’d be up in time for school. So how did he know I wasn’t in school, maybe he’d reasoned it out the same way? Or maybe someone told him.

  I went to the icebox and poured us some juice, gave him a glass. He smiled his thanks, his teeth, like the rest of him were oh so perfect. He looked like he had just walked off a film set, and yet he was here, to see me of all people. Claire Winter, small town punch bag, the girl they loved to be hateful to.

  “You’re sure you don’t mind me being here?” he asked.

  “I would have wanted you to come, Ethan. I was so grateful for last night.”

  “Yeah, no sweat. Any problems, Claire, just call me again, I’ll be there for you.”

  “Excuse me? What do you mean, call you again? Did I call you, I don’t remember that?”

  “No, right, of course not.”

  I’d sometimes heard about people that were so close to each other, lovers, usually, that they seemed to enjoy some kind of telepathy between them. Could it be that? No, not likely. We were quiet again and I let myself relax in the calm strength of his presence. I thought about what he’d said, was it a slip or what?

  “Do you believe in telepathy?” I asked him.

  He looked a bit guilty then and I began to suspect.

  “What do you mean, telepathy?”

  “You knew I wanted you to be here, didn’t you?”

  I was waiting for him to say yes he did, that some thought wave connected us. He didn’t answer me, though. I was embarrassing him.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

  “No, it’s ok,” he said. Then he touched my hand, just the tips of the fingers, but it was like a charge of electricity running from him across to me. I heard him say, “But I’ve got to go now, I’ve got things to do,” and it was like a cold wind blowing towards me.

  I didn’t want to lose the touch, but I let him withdraw his hand. “Right, thanks for coming.”

  He looked at me, was that warmth or sympathy I could see? Well don’t be sorry for me, buster, no matter how good looking you are. But I looked into his eyes, deep into his eyes, and what I saw there wasn’t sympathy. It was sorrow. Sorrow for what? Just as he was going through the door, he turned back to look at me.

  “Claire, those people, they’re dangerous, I mean it, you be careful.”

  “Those people? You mean the bullies,” I laughed, “they’re just idiots, I can deal with them.”

  “No, it’s more than that. They’re dangerous. Very dangerous.”

  I opened my mouth to ask him what the hell he meant, but he had gone.

  Chapter 2

  “You sure you’re ok to go to school this morning?”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  I was eating the stuff that tastes like shredded cartons soaked in milk that she gave me every morning. Packed with every vitamin your kid needs, they said on the package. Yeah, right. Packed with garbage. I was wearing the long skirt, she wouldn’t take no for an answer. I knew the kids would have a good laugh at my expense, but what was new? I swigged down my juice and picked up my backpack.

  “You need to wear a coat today, you haven’t been well.”

  She’s holding my long, thick, warm lined raincoat. Oh, my God. “Mom, no, I can’t wear that, I’m ok, really.”

  “Claire, you’re not ok, you’ve got a cold and I want to make sure it doesn’t get any worse.”

  “Mom, I don’t want to go to school looking like Orphan Annie.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, it’s a perfectly good coat.”

  She wouldn’t take no for an answer, of course not. Mom’s mission in life seemed to be to make my life even more difficult than it already was. I got out of the car outside school and went in. Of course, I walked straight into Fiona Merriweather. Fiona was part of the tennis club set from the other side of town, Stella’s crowd. She was one of those girls you would
hate on sight, long, straight blonde hair, healthy and shining. She was tall and slim and where I was a bit pale and pasty, her skin glowed with tanned health. Her school clothes were cut to perfection, I guessed that if a single thread pulled on her blouse she’d throw it out and buy a new one. She’d come to school once wearing a pair of Jimmy Choos, a typical show off. She was the kind of girl for whom the word ‘bitch’ was invented.

  “Nice coat, Claire,” she said with a grin. Of course, these kids always delivered the killer blow with a pearly white five hundred dollar smile.

  “Right, thanks,” I said as I hurried past her.

  “You can do so well at the thrift shop these days,” I heard her add. Thanks. It was pointless to argue, more than once I’d felt like giving her a good slap, but a stand-up fight in the school wasn’t a good idea. I walked through the main door and was heading for my locker when Mrs. Granger the Principal, stopped me.

  “Where were you yesterday, Claire?”

  “Er, I was ill, Ma’am.”

  “So why wasn’t the school informed?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It won’t do, Claire, it’s not good enough.”

  I said nothing. She knew perfectly well that if I was laying ill in bed my mom should have called the school, not me. So why was she hassling me? Why not speak to Mom? But what was the point, I said nothing. I guess if I died, she’d expect me to resurrect myself from the grave to report it.