The Girl Next Door by Jack Ketchum Page A

the frogs or crickets but now I was, a percussive drone in the silence. All you could hear was them and Eddie pulling hard on the cigarette and exhaling and the occasional creak of the birch tree. There were fireflies in the yard blinking on and off, drifting.
    “Time, ” said Kenny
    Eddie dropped the Kool and crushed it and then he and Tony ran over to the tree. A moment later they were up and Willie and Donny were down, back with us.
    The tree rested higher now.
    “See anything?” I asked.
    “Nothing,” Willie said. It was surprising how angry he sounded. As though it were Meg’s fault for not showing. As though she’d cheated him. But then Willie always was an asshole.
    I looked at Donny. The light wasn’t good back there but it seemed to me he had that same intent, studied look as when he’d been looking at Ruth talking about the hootchie-koo girls and what they wore and didn’t wear. It was as though he were trying to figure something out and was a little depressed because he couldn’t get the answer.
    We stood together silently and then in a while Kenny tapped me on the shoulder.
    “Time,” he said.
    We ran over to the tree and I slapped Tony’s ankle. He slid down.
    We stood there waiting for Eddie. I looked at Tony. He shrugged and shook his head, staring at the ground. Nothing. A few minutes later Eddie gave up too and slid down next to me.
    “This is bullshit,” he said. “Screw it. Screw her.”
    And they walked away.
    I didn’t get it. Eddie was mad now too.
    I didn’t let it worry me.
    We went up. The climb was easy.
    At the top I felt this great rush of excitement. I wanted to laugh out loud I felt so good. Something was going to happen. I knew it. Too bad for Eddie and Donny and Willie—it was going to be us. She’d be at the window any moment now and we’d see.
    It didn’t bother me at all that I was probably betraying Meg by spying on her. I hardly even thought of her as Meg. It was as though it wasn’t really her that we were looking for. It was something more abstract than that. A real live girl and not some black-and-white photo in a magazine. A woman’s body
    I was finally going to learn something.
    What you had was a case of greater priority.
    We settled in.
    I glanced at Kenny. He was grinning.
    It occurred to me to wonder why the other guys had acted so pissy.
    This was fun! Even the fact that you were scared was fun. Scared that Ruth would appear suddenly on the porch, telling us to get our asses out of there. Scared that Meg would look out the bathroom window straight into your eyes.
    I waited, confident.
    The bathroom light went off but that didn’t matter. It was the bedroom I was focused on. That’s where I’d see her.
    Straight-on. Naked. Flesh and blood, and someone I actually even knew a bit slightly.
    I refused to even blink.
    I could feel a tingling down below where I pressed against the tree.
    A tune kept running around and around in my head—“Get out in that kitchen and rattle those pots and pans ... I believe to m’soul you’re the devil in nylon hose ...” And so on.
    Wild, I thought. I’m lying here in this tree. She’s in there.
    I waited.

    The bedroom light went out.
    Suddenly the house went dark.
     
    I could have smashed something.
    I could have torn that house to bits.
     
    And now I knew exactly how the others had felt and exactly why they’d looked so mad at her, mad at Meg—because it felt like it was her fault, as though she was the one who’d got us up here in the first place and promised so much and then delivered nothing. And while I knew this was irrational and dumb of me that was exactly how I felt all the same.
    Bitch, I thought.
    And then I did feel guilty. Because that was personal.
    That was about Meg.
    And then I felt depressed.
    It was as though part of me knew—didn’t want to believe it or even think about it but knew all along.
    I was never going to get that ducky. It had been bullshit from the beginning.
    Just like Eddie