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Ramona hadn't predicted that dating Garrett would be such a big deal to everyone in Elston. She was used to the way the small town worked, and she knew that many people complained about what they called Elston drama. In a small town of any kind, people knew too much about each other, and they inevitably talked about people behind their backs. Ramona had talked to other people about this and had commiserated with them. What she hadn't realized was that she hadn't exactly ever experienced Elston drama before.
Ramona knew that she was what most people called a townie. In other words, she hung out in front of The Holy Grind in the morning and in The Brass Frog at night. She was part of a fairly tight-knit community of people who hung out in Elston. She also felt like she'd had to work her way into the community. That was the other thing about small towns. People weren't accepting of new people right away. They regarded them with suspicion. So it had taken several years for Ramona to get to the point where she was now.
Still, much of the time, Ramona still really felt like an outsider. And because she wasn't the most "popular" townie in Elston, she suddenly realized no one had ever spread rumors about her life before. Her first thought was one of pure elation. People had been talking about her when she wasn't even there! They knew she existed! But as time wore on, the elation began to fade. No one liked Garrett. Blair and her friends had done their work well. Garrett was a rapist and an all around terrible person as far as the Elston community was concerned. And apparently, Ramona's dating him was the most exciting thing that had happened in really long time in Elston.
When Ramona walked into The Holy Grind, the people gathered outside got quiet, as if they'd been talking about her. When she walked into the bar, people steered clear of her. When they did talk to her, they were all trying to "warn" her for her own good, to stay away from Garrett.
What made Ramona angry was that no one had taken the time to get to know Garrett. They had no idea what he was like. They had just decided that because everyone else was ignoring him, they were going to be sheep and do whatever it was everyone else was doing. She was disgusted. For a town full of free thinkers, this town was pretty crummy when it came to social interaction. Finally, she could hardly handle it anymore, so she decided if she were going to the bar, she wasn't going alone anymore. Her last two trips to the bar alone hadn't been any fun. She took Garrett with her, even though he said he didn't particularly want to show his face in The Brass Frog, especially on a Friday night. "Blair will definitely be there," he'd said. "And besides, no one will talk to us anyway. Why don't we just stay home and drink? It'll be cheaper."
But Ramona was sick of staying home and drinking with Garrett. She wanted a night out to socialize. But she wanted Garrett there too.
After some cajoling, he had come with her to the bar. Things had started out okay. Ramona had dragged Garrett to a table full of people she knew and sat down with them. She'd introduced them to Garrett as if they didn't know who he was. And at first, anyway, they'd been forced to be polite to Garrett. They didn't seem to be capable of being rude to his face. The table was in the midst of a heated discussion on the probability of a polar shift. Several of the guys, Tom and Mark, were convinced that it was going to happen within the next year, but that "they" were hiding it from the world. One of the more shrewd girls at the table, Olivia, was trying to get them pin down who exactly "they" were and what vested interest they'd have in hiding a polar shift from the world. "It's not money," she said. "Disasters are good for the economy."
Ramona had to take Olivia's side. The conversation was indeed enjoyable. It was why Ramona loved to live in Elston. Try to walk into a bar in Freeburg at eleven o'clock on a Friday night and engage someone in conversation about a polar shift. It would never happen. People in bars in the rest of the world talked about boring things.
However, as it got a little later, the night stopped going so well. First of all, people kept disappearing from their table. They'd go up to get another drink and never come back. Soon, Ramona, Garrett, and Olivia were the only people at the table. One of the things Ramona liked about Olivia was her frankness. She was a pretty honest person, but she didn't worry too much about sparing people's feelings sometimes. That was okay with Ramona. It was kind of refreshing actually. But left alone with the two of them, Olivia started talking to Garrett.
"So I bet you told my friend Ramona here that you didn't rape Blair?" she said.
Garrett looked startled. "Um..."
"She's not being rude, that's just the way she is," Ramona said to Garrett.
Olivia laughed.
"Well," said Garrett. "I didn't rape her."
"So why does she say you did?" Olivia said.
"I don't know," said Garrett. "I've never even had sex with her."
Olivia shrugged. "That just doesn't really add up, does it? Sorry Ramona, but I can't believe Blair's making this up. Do you really think that?"
"There are a lot of things about Blair that I don't think anybody really knows," said Ramona. "For instance, last week, she locked me in the basement of the library all night."
Olivia almost choked on the sip of beer she was taking. "You're kidding."
"No, I'm not. And she said she did it because she was angry that I was making Garrett happy when he doesn't deserve it."
"Well..." said Olivia. "I mean, with what she's been through..."
"Why didn't she go to the police if Garrett raped her?" said Ramona.
"There are lots of reasons why girls don't want to go to the police after they're raped," said Olivia. "Rape is one of the most underreported crimes."
"Generally, that's because women are ashamed," Garrett said quietly. "Blair didn't seem to have any problem telling everybody except the police about it. All her friends beat the shit out of me that night, and I didn't even know why."
"Look, Blair's my friend--" started Olivia.
"I thought I was your friend too," said Ramona.
"I need another beer," said Olivia. Her beer was half-full.
Ramona sighed heavily as she watched Olivia head back to the bar.
"I told you we should stay home," said Garrett.
"That just means they win," said Ramona. "They aren't chasing me out of my bar. This place is just as much mine as it is theirs." She paused. "Besides, it's good. Olivia will tell other people what we said. At least your side of the story is going to get into the mix now."
Garrett shook his head. "I hate this town."
"Yeah," Ramona said. She needed to move away. Really. She should apply to grad schools or something. Except. All the deadlines for fall were in January or February. It was late spring. She was too late again. Did that mean she was stuck in Elston for another whole year?
She and Garrett finished their drinks in near silence. Ramona couldn’t think of anything to say. "I'll buy us another round?" she said, when they were done.
"You sure you wanna stay?"
"It's still early. Maybe the night will improve."
Garrett snorted, but he let her go.
Once she got to the front of the bar, Ramona realized that Blair and Owen had arrived. That sucked. As badly as the night had gone so far, it was going to get even worse now. Ramona tried to keep out of sight of Blair, but wasn't sure if she was successful. She bought two more drinks, one for herself and one for Garrett. When she returned to his table, she was surprised to see that someone was sitting with Garrett. It was Hayden, one of the older gay men who lived in town. Elston had a reputation for attracting the homosexual community. Hayden was an interesting guy. He was flaming, but he also had a nervous tick to his speech. He didn't stutter exactly, but it sometimes took him a long time to get out what he was saying. And he muttered a lot. Still, Ramona liked him okay. He was cool to talk to for a while, anyway. It looked as if she might be right. Maybe their evening was looking up.
She let Garrett and Hayden talk for a while without interrupting or even trying to follow their conversation. She just happily drank her beer and smoked her cigarette. Then Dawn and Cecelia wandered into the back and headed straight for her table. Inwardly, she groaned.
"Ramona," said Dawn. "Can we talk to you?"
"Sure," said Ramona. "Sit down."
"No, can we talk to you alone?" said Cecelia.
"Fine," said Ramona, getting up from the table. She followed Dawn and Cecelia further into the garden, to a small table underneath a huge, old tree. The three sat down. "What's up?" asked Ramona.
"We're just..." said Cecelia.
"...worried about you," said Dawn.
Worried about Ramona, her ass. They were just being bitchy. That was all there was to it.
"I mean, you know Garrett is a rapist, right?" said Cecelia.
"I don't know that," said Ramona.
"Oh yeah," said Cecelia. "He raped Blair."
"I meant that I don't think that's true," said Ramona.
"God, Ramona, you think Blair's lying?" asked Dawn in a horrified voice.
"Why don't you guys just drop it?" Ramona muttered. "I know something weird is going on around here. I know you guys have something to do with it." She didn't really know anything, and she didn't know why she said it. She guessed she wanted to gauge their reaction.
The girls exchanged a look. "Listen, we just don't think it's a good idea for you to hang out with Garrett," said Cecelia.
"We're your friends," said Dawn. "We don't want anything to happen to you." But her voice sounded a little flat, and there was a funny way that she cocked her head. Like a house cat sizing up her prey or something.
"Garrett's not going to hurt me," said Ramona.
"Associating with Garrett might," said Cecelia. "I thought Blair had already made that clear to you."
Ramona felt chill run through her body. What the hell was that? That wasn't a typical friendly thing to say. She clutched her beer tightly. "You're threatening me?"
"We like you, Ramona," said Cecelia. "We wouldn't anything to happen to you."
"We don't especially like Garrett," said Dawn. "If you're always around him...well..."
Shit. She was right. She'd been right. There was something wrong with these girls. They weren't normal like other people. And they were threatening her. "What are you going to do?" she whispered.
Cecelia did laugh then, a hard bright laugh, throwing her head back, because apparently what Ramona had said was so amusing. "I thought you'd figured us all out," she said. "You don't know what we do? Well, good. Maybe it should stay that way."
"Whatcha reading?" asked Rick, depositing his bag and jacket on the table where Heather was sitting. Heather didn't understand how a guy who was such a Nazi about dishes didn't seem to have any problem dumping his stuff on the table. He did it every day when he came home from work. In Heather's mind, tables were for food and that was it. But then, of course, Rick wouldn't even eat at a table if it meant he could keep from dirtying a dish. Heather did not understand the guy at all.
"It's a book I got from the Elston library," said Heather, looking up. "I've been looking for it for a long time."
Rick reached down and lifted the cover of the book so that he could read the title. Heather glared at him. "Ghosts, huh?" he said.
She did not want to have this conversation with Rick right now. She just wanted to keep reading her book in peace. She hadn't realized it was so late in the day and that he would be coming home soon, because she'd been so engrossed in the book. Rick probably wouldn't understand anyway, because Rick didn't really read for pleasure. And he definitely didn't understand her fascination with ghosts.
"So what's for dinner?" Rick asked.
Heather rolled her eyes. Rick was on this weird kick now, since she was doing shift work at the restaurant. A lot of the times, she went in late, and worked until one or two, whenever they kicked the patrons out of the bar area and finished clean up after they were gone. If she was home all day and then left at six, Rick seemed to assume she should spend that time acting like a housewife or something. After all, it wasn't as if she should spend her downtime the way he did, watching TV and playing video games. No, she was the little woman. She should be cooking and cleaning. Sometimes, she wanted to strangle Rick. She smiled at him. "I don't know, sweetie," she said. "What were you thinking of cooking?"
He looked offended. "Look, I'm just saying that you've been home all day, and--"
"I slept until noon," Heather interrupted. "Just because I work late doesn't mean that I don't work, baby."
"If I had your schedule, and you had mine, I would cook you dinner," said Rick.
"Well, you're a sweetheart," said Heather. "Too bad you couldn't have married yourself." Inwardly, she seriously doubted Rick would do any such thing if their schedules were inverted. She went back to her book.
"Heather," Rick said. "Aren't you going to talk to me? I mean, we never see each other. You're going to have to go in to work in two hours. You're asleep when I get up. I miss you."
What Heather primarily wanted to do was read her book, not hang out with Rick, who she lived with, saw every day, and knew forwards, backwards, and inside out. But that seemed sort of rude, so she marked her page and closed the book. "Sure, baby," she said. "What do you want to talk about?"
But Rick was annoyed with her now. She could see it. God, why was marriage such hard work?
"No," he said. "You know what? It's fine. You read. I'll order pizza."
Heather sighed. "Well, when I was in Elston the other day getting the book, I ran into Garrett, who's apparently Ramona's new boyfriend."
"Oh yeah?"
"I don't like him. He's rude."
"Wait. Garrett? Garrett Hillard?"
"Yeah, that's his last name."
"He's back in Elston? That guy got run off a few years ago. He's a rapist."
Heather nodded. "Yeah, Ramona knows that. She doesn't think he is."
"So she thinks the chick...dude, what was her name? Claire or something?"
"Blair," Heather supplied.
"Yeah, Blair. Ramona thinks Blair is lying?"
"I guess so. She told me that Blair locked her in the basement of the library one night."
Rick made a face. Heather took some time to explain what Ramona had told her in more depth.
"Whoa," said Rick. "Do you believe her?"
"I believe her," said Heather. "I think. At least some of it is true. Ramona never out and out lies. There's always some truth to it, you know?" Rick nodded. "You know this Blair girl? What do you think about her?"
"Well, I sort of know her," said Rick. "I mean, I'd recognize her face. But you know I was never really what people would call a townie when I lived in Elston. I didn't really hang out in the same circles as she did. But, all those kids that lived on the river always struck me as a little weird. I guess I wouldn't put something like that past her."
Heather nodded. "I am kind of worried about Ramona. She seems so totally out of it lately. Maybe she's going a little crazy. The other day she tried to tell me that Blair was an alien, like in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or something."
Rick laughed. "Wait. They were ghosts, then they were clones, then they were demons, and now they're aliens? That's great. Really. Ramona is very imaginative."
"Or very insane," said Heather. "I don't know. What do you think I should do? Should I do anything? If it was your best friend, what would you do?"
"Probably just laugh it off," said Rick, shrugging.
"But she won't drop it. She's very serious about it."
"Well," said Rick. "I don't think you should tell her that you think she's nuts or something. Because that might just drive her off. If you keep telling her that you don't agree with her, she might just stop telling you about it to keep from getting a negative reaction." He paused. "Does she seem to be crazy in other ways? Like is she not going to work or spending too much money or drinking too much?"
"Not really," said Heather. "I mean, besides the aliens stuff, she's the same as she ever was. No one living in Elston is completely normal anyway."
Rick shrugged again. "See what happens," he advised. "Maybe it'll all just blow over."
Garrett locked the library, whistling. Blair hadn't been by to freak him out or make veiled threats in quite some time. He and Ramona were going hot and heavy. Everything there was awesome. And even though something fucked up might be going on in Elston, for the first time in a long time, he felt like his life actually might be looking up. It was the closest he'd felt to happy in years.
His car was parked behind the library on Water Street. Water Street went one way and was barely wide enough for a car to actually fit down. Garrett wasn't entirely sure why the street warranted a name. It was more a glorified alley than anything else. Still, the library staff spaces were there. There were two of them, but if two people were actually working at the library, it was a tight fit to actually get two cars parked there. Like most parking in Elston, the staff spaces weren't real convenient to the library. All of the parking around the library was metered or residential. If Garrett had lived in town, he would have just walked to work. But his parents lived outside town, in a planned community where all the houses looked sort of the same. It reminded Garrett of the street in A Wrinkle in Time, on the planet where everybody was controlled by the huge brain It. There was something sinister about planned communities.
It was actually kind of ironic, he thought later, because he wasn't going to his car to drive away that evening. He was just going there to pick up the beer he'd left in the trunk so that he could take it over to Ramona's. He'd just called her to make sure that they were definitely hanging out tonight. She hadn't shown up at the library after work, because she was apparently staying a little late that evening. Still, he was going to wait for her at her apartment. She'd promised to be there as soon as she could. If it hadn't been for that beer, he'd never even have gone to his car.
When he got there, they were waiting for him. Owen, Zane, Craig, and Mason. Half of Garrett wanted to run. He knew they weren't there just to have a friendly chat with him. Half of him knew that running wouldn't matter. They'd get him no matter what he did. And the part of him that had been socialized by American movies told him that it was really cowardly to run away. So he just walked up to them, a huge friendly smile plastered on his face.
"Hi guys," he greeted. "You looking for me?"
None of them smiled back. Their faces were stony; their arms crossed over their chests. Well, except Mason. Mason hung back, his hands shoved into his pockets. He stared at the ground and traced circles in the gravel of the parking lot with the toe of his shoe. Owen stepped forward. "I don't know what it is with you, Garrett," he said. "I guess you're just a stupid son of a bitch."
Garrett shrugged, still grinning. "Sometimes I am, I guess."
"You gonna get in your car, drive out of this town, and never come back?" sneered Zane.
"Don't believe I am," said Garrett. His grin seemed stuck in place. He couldn't wipe it off.
Zane and Craig moved forward with lightning speed. Zane seized Garrett's wrists and wrenched them together behind his back. Craig grabbed Garrett by the collar and slung Garrett against the closed trunk of his own car.
Garrett attempted to struggle for a second, but Zane was holding Garrett's wrists and pinning him against the car. Craig slammed Garrett's head against his back window and forced Garrett’s check against the glass. Owen lowered his own face until he was face to face with Garrett.
"Why are you staying here?" Owen asked.
Garrett didn't answer. He didn't owe them shit. They could beat him up as much as they wanted, but he wasn't talking to th--
Suddenly, Owen jammed his thumb against Garrett's eyelid and began pushing Garrett's eyeball into his skull.
"Why are you staying here?" Owen repeated.
"Ramona," gasped Garrett. Was his eye even going to work after they were done with him? Jesus.
The pressure on his eyeball abated, but Owen didn't move his thumb away, so Garrett could feel the heat of Owen's finger against his skin. His breath was starting to come in frightened bursts. Garrett was terrified he wasn't going to be able to see when Owen removed his finger.
"Ramona," muttered Owen. "What do you two talk about? What did she tell you about us?"
Garrett considered playing dumb, but he was so terrified about his eyesight, that he caved. He guessed that according to movie hero standards, he really was a coward. "She told me she saw Angelica after she died," he said.
Owen said something over Garrett's head to someone else. Garrett couldn't see because he was facing the wrong way, and anyway, both his eyes were squeezed shut against Owen's fingers. "I thought you took care of that. I thought you said she'd never say anything to anyone."
"Guess I was wrong," said one of the other guys.
Owen pressed on Garrett's eye again. Garrett yelled.
"Hey," said the same voice. "It's not his fault."
Owen removed his thumb. Garrett cautiously opened his eyes. He could see! His eye was aching, a dull thud in his head, but he didn't seem to be permanently damaged. He was so caught up checking his eyesight, that he didn't see the fist coming. It collided with his jaw. Someone yanked him up by the scruff of his shirt, and the blows rained down on him from all directions. Finally, when they were done, they tossed him on the ground, bleeding and bruised. "Just fucking leave town," Owen spat at him.
And then they were gone. Garrett wondered why he didn't just leave.
When Ramona's phone rang again, just as she walking out the door of the admissions office, she didn't even look at the phone to see who was calling. She just snapped the phone open and snapped into the receiver, "I'm leaving right now, okay?"
Garrett hadn't been lying about the fact that he was a little overly demonstrative. It was annoying. When she hadn't shown up at the library when she'd said she would, he'd called immediately. He did it all the time, calling her if she were even five minutes late. He said it was because he was worried about her. After all, Blair had locked her in a basement, and Dawn and Cecelia had threatened her. So it made sense that Garrett might worry about her safety. But Ramona was starting to feel a little suffocated. Maybe Garrett was right. There was something wrong with him. Sure, it was better to have a boyfriend who cared. But there was a line that Garrett was coming dangerously close to crossing. He was starting to seem, well, possessive.
"It's Mason," said the person on the phone.
Shit. "Oh," said Ramona. Had she ever given Mason her phone number? "I thought you were Garrett. I'm sorry. What's up?"
"Where are you?"
"I'm coming out of the admissions office," said Ramona. "Why?"
"Okay, I'm across the street. I'll come over and meet you."
"What?" But Mason had hung up. Ramona looked around, trying to locate him. In a few seconds, she saw him walking across the street. She waved, but he didn't wave back. Once Mason was at her side, he took her by the arm and led her down the street a few feet. He pulled her into a small space between two buildings. They stood on the sidewalk between them.
"What's going on?" Ramona demanded. She wrenched her arm away from him and rubbed it. His grip had been a little tight.
"You told Garrett about Angelica." Mason's eyes flashed.
Ramona backed into the wall of the building. "Well..."
"You promised me you wouldn't tell anyone about that."
"I didn't for a really long time. What's wrong, Mason? Why--"
"Did you tell anyone else?"
Well, she'd told Heather, but she didn't know if she should tell him that. He seemed so angry. "No?"
"Is that a question?"
"What's going on?"
Mason ran his hands through his hair and looked away, sighing heavily. "I'm doing my best to keep you from finding that out, Ramona. Good God. Do you have any idea how much danger you're in?"
"Well..."
"Don't answer that. Listen to me. You must tell me the truth. Have you told anyone else?"
Okay, she'd tell him the truth. "I told my best friend Heather."
"Heather? Do I know her?"
"She lives in Freeburg."
"Oh," said Mason, visibly relieved. "Good, good. You didn't tell anyone else in Elston besides Garrett?"
"No. No one would believe me, anyway."
"Please don't ever mention it again to anybody." Mason shoved his hands into his pockets and fixed Ramona with his gaze. "You really need to be careful, Ramona. Things are not what they seem to be around here."
"You mean there aren't a bunch of monsters of some kind wandering around in Elston, pretending to be river hippies?"
"Monsters?" Mason raised his eyebrows.
"Well, I don't know what they are. But they aren't exactly normal, are they? And you know something about it."
"Stop asking questions, Ramona. You have no idea what could happen to you. We're not talking getting locked in a basement or being knocked around a little by Owen and Zane. We're talking your life, okay. Do you understand? Your life could be in danger."
"Who's getting knocked around by Owen and Zane?" Ramona asked.
Mason swallowed and looked at his feet. "I tried to stop them." He looked back up at her. "I'm not entirely sure what it is you see in that guy anyway."
That guy? "What happened to Garrett?" Ramona demanded. "Why do you care what I see in him, anyway?" Was Mason jealous?
"Listen, Ramona, it's a message. They're trying to tell you to stay away. To leave it alone. You need to promise me that you'll stop trying to figure this out. Just let it go. Let it go."
"What happened to Garrett?"
He sighed. "I'll take you to him."
She followed Mason to Water Street, to the spot where Garrett's car was parked. Garrett was lying in on the gravel parking lot, beside his car. She knelt by him, tentatively touching his face. Was he unconscious? God. But Garrett turned his face to her. She gasped. Blood was pouring from his nose. Both his eyes were swollen and red. His lip was split open. She looked up to ask Mason if she should take Garrett to a hospital, but Mason wasn't there anymore. Wonderful.
"Hi," said Ramona, and she realized that she was crying.
Garrett reached up to touch her face, to brush away her tears. "Don't cry," he whispered.
He was lying there all ruined and beaten up, and he was telling her not to cry? How could someone care so much about someone else? About her?
"Can you stand?" she asked.
"It's not as bad as it looks," Garrett said, moving to stand up. But when he stood, he winced. And when he tried to take a step, he groaned.
Ramona rushed to support him, putting his arm around her shoulder.
But Garrett moved away. "No," he said. "It's really okay. I just need to get cleaned up. I'm fine."
"You aren't fine," said Ramona. "Those fucking bastards." She looked at her boyfriend's bloody face. They were going to pay. No way was she going to take this lying down. No fucking way.
Copyright (c) 2010 Valerie Chambers