The History Student

He walked over and entered without ringing the doorbell. Kate lay on the sofa under a gray cabled afghan. Bedroom pillows propped up her head. “What are you watching?” “‘The 39 Steps.’ Just think about being chained to someone for all that time.” “No, thank you,” said Bobby. “What can I get you from the kitchen?” She pointed at the cup on the end table and the empty bag sagging on the saucer. “Chamomile, good for you. You’ll get some sleep that way,” said Bobby. “I always wondered if that was a myth.” “Probably on a per-teabag level.” He went downstairs and found a bottle of Bordeaux in the cobwebbed wine rack in the cellar behind the solarium. “I don’t know your parents’ tastes,” he called as he thumped up the stairs and returned to the living room. “Please tell me this is under twenty dollars.” Kate sat up and put on tortoise-shell frames. “You’re safe. Dad won’t kill you.” He uncorked the bottle and poured it into the first glass that he found in the kitchen. He patted her knees and she drew back her legs. She talked about the movie and he was content to sit mute. Her words passed through his ears with no comprehension and the sound of her voice, even in its congested state, charmed him into closing his eyes. “Hey there, sleepyhead,” she teased. “By the way, that’s a pinot noir glass. I’ll teach you the different kinds.” “Oh God! It was like hearing a bedtime story. I was just resting my eyes,” he said. “It’s 11 and you’ve been up far too late. Let’s get you to bed and I’ll take the dog out.” Kate stretched her legs over Bobby’s thighs. “I’m going to conk out here, I think,” she said. “I’m comfortable for the first time today.” He scooped her calves under the blanket and stood. “That’s Alfred Hitchcock for you. Sending kids to bed with sweet dreams for the past hundred years. You close your eyes. I’ll be back in a little while. Bucky! Come on, girl!” Bucky lifted her head from where she lay on a round corded throw carpet before the fireplace. “Do you know what a W-A-L-K is?” Bobby said. Bucky’s stump threatened to shake itself loose. She barked once and ran in little circles in front of Bobby’s feet. He put on his coat and took the leash from the kitchen counter. He chuckled at the sound of her nails skittering on the floorboards. He walked Bucky to his house, and she jumped into the car through the open driver’s-side door. They drove to the Crows Woods parking lot. He took his flashlight from the glove compartment and walked the dog down the path toward the rope swing. The ring of his phone interrupted the singing of the crickets. “Larry!” said Bobby. “Burning the billable hours?” “Hello, young man. I am at the office as a matter of fact. I was thinking about you. That is to say, I was thinking about Gary. You should see him. He’s dressing right, he’s presentable, I don’t know how else to say it. And he’s acting like an adult. Pleasantries and whatnot. I thought you should know that I appreciate what you’ve done for him. I even hear he’s got a prom date. Did you put her up to this?” Bobby’s heart jumped. “He did it all by himself!” Larry laughed. “Gary says she’s a hot one. He confessed only under torture. Well, thanks Coach. I’ll find a way to compensate you. Maybe I can give you some Mom-management lessons.” “Lord knows I could use some.” “Hell, I could tell you exactly what to say to her.” Bobby turned from embarrassed to uncomfortable. “I don’t want to, uh, get involved or anything.” “Coach, don’t sweat it. I couldn’t do that anyway. Damn law. Listen, come out to the club one day and we’ll play a few holes and eat some steaks.” Bobby heard laughter. He looked around and thought he was dreaming. “Hey, let’s do that,” he said. “I need to hop now, but we can make a plan.” Bucky’s panting reassured him an irrational way about what was not in the woods — no ghosts or demons, no Yamadan. All he heard was the distant traffic on the interstate and the resumption of the cricket’s song. Bucky led him into the woods as she pulled against her leash and sniffed at the ground. His flashlight revealed a newly fallen tree. They would have to clamber over it. The dog squatted to pee. He picked her up when she finished. A single female voice cried out. Whoops and laughter followed. He and Bucky advanced over a gentle slope and brushed against spider webs and dead leaves clinging to low branches. Bobby stepped forward into the open space near the swing and put down the dog, who sank to her haunches next to him. A dozen kids holding cans and bottles of beer sat on logs sawn in half to form benches. A fire burned in a shallow pit, coolers sat near the edge of the light, cigarette tips glowed orange and red. A sound came from behind him. There were more in another group, lurking in the dark and, by the smell of things, sharing a joint. A girl in blue jeans and a denim coat lined with fleece turned her face toward him. “Coach! Oh my God, what are you doing here?”