Cast a Pale Shadow - By Barbara Scott Page 0,38

his unplanned expedition into the nether world for his little tantrum.

He'd slipped up again and naturally someone had been there to catch him at it. His life swam in the whitewash he had to use to hide his black times, but as always he managed to paint himself into a corner. And as always there was someone around to spot his tracks as he muddled his way out.

The air in the gift shop was pungent with roses and mums and the sweet smell of chocolate. Nicholas looked over the shelf of bouquets and picked one of pink rosebuds and daisies. He ordered it sent up to Trissa's room. He wondered if they'd arrived before or after Edmonds had talked Trissa out of trusting him. Before or after the police were called to haul him away.

He bought a sandwich in the cafeteria and ate it in the car after tilting the rear view mirror away so he wouldn't catch his reflection in it. The corned beef was tough and dry, pickled from some steer long past its prime, no doubt. It suited him. He remembered the bitter coffee from early that morning and decided this cup was brewed from the same old grounds.

From his spot on the parking lot he saw the third floor windows but he couldn't figure out if Trissa's room was on this side of the building. His odyssey through the subbasement had disoriented him.

What did it matter anyway? She was a lost dream, and he was suddenly too old to believe in happy endings. He washed down the last of his sandwich with the dregs of his coffee. Hunching down in his well-worn but warm navy blue jacket, he pulled his legs up on to the seat and went to sleep and dreamed of -- Janey?

As Nicholas circled the park, Janey nursed the last drops out of her Coca-Cola, tilting her head back and allowing her pink tongue to circle the rim and dart inside a time or two. She was hot and growing impatient. While he watched from the car, she unbuttoned the wide, white collar of her blouse, tugged her skirt up to mid thigh and rolled her socks down to the top of her penny loafers, patting the sweat from her sturdy legs and dimpled knees. The Coke she now cast aside so disconsolately must have long since grown tepid. But as the park melted into dusk, not even the disappearance of the sun diminished the steamy humidity that had made this day nearly unbearable. It was unusual heat for so early in May.

Janey lifted her heat-frizzled hair from her neck and fanned it with a piece of paper from her book bag. Her homework, no doubt. She was extremely heedless of it. She had left two folded sheets, covered with the essay he'd helped her struggle with, behind in his car the last time. It both amused and annoyed him to find she had inscribed "Nicky and Janey. Janey and Nicky" in her curly handwriting, dotting the i in his name with a heart, all along the margins. He thought she would be better at keeping secrets than that. Nicholas shook his head remembering it. He wondered how she'd explained the missing papers to her teacher. Probably with the same resourcefulness that enabled her to reach a belated senior year without anyone finding out she could barely read.

He parked the car out of her line of vision and approached her through the unmowed spring grass. Already, he thought he could detect the enticing scent of her, a blend of wildflowers and spice and Snicker bars that made his head hum with anticipation. Janey had the magic.

He heard her hiccup a sob and knew he had kept her waiting too long. It was hard to judge these things. The wait was important. He had to make sure she really wanted him. She had to prove it by waiting. He would never take anyone who didn't want him. Force was never involved.

"I'm here, Sweetheart," he said eager for that moment when she would turn and see him and the tears would dry from her eyes.

"Nicky! I knew! I knew you wouldn't forget me." In one self-conscious flurry of movement, she tugged at her skirt, brushed her tears from her cheeks and pushed her glasses up the sweat-glistened button of her nose. She licked her dry lips, and they trembled to a smile.

"Never," was all he could say, overwhelmed by her nearness, the need to touch

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