“Just having a hoot. But that time of night, you never know. You wanta be ready for anything.”
It was pretty clear that the kids were up to no good. You didn’t sneak out of your house and meet at Funland at one A.M. just to stand around and talk. He’d wanted to ask more, but feared that Cowboy might think he was worried. Besides, it didn’t really matter what they’d be doing. He wanted to be with them.
One of them.
Whatever it was, he planned to join in.
Jeremy slipped into his underwear and dark blue corduroy pants. He patted the front pocket to make sure his keys and knife were still there. He put on his shirt and tucked it in. He put on his blue windbreaker. He carried his socks and sneakers.
At the bedroom door he peered down the dark hallway toward his mother’s room.
In the other house, when he’d crept out at night sometimes to wander the neighborhood and look in windows, he’d had to sneak right past her door. In this house, her bedroom was at the end of the hall. A much better arrangement.
Jeremy made his way slowly to the front of the house. He slipped the guard chain off the door. It rattled a little, but not much. The door opened without a sound because he’d oiled the hinges before supper while his mother was taking a bath.
This house had a screened-in porch, another thing that made it better than the last house. His bicycle stood in a corner, ready to go. At the old place, he’d had to keep it in the garage, so he’d never bothered to use it on his prowls.
Leaning against the door frame, he put on his socks and shoes. Then he lifted his bike, carried it to the screen door, pushed open the door with his back, and hurried down the three porch stairs to the walkway.
The neighborhood was lighted by streetlamps and the moon. Deep patches of darkness hung under the trees. A few of the nearby homes had porch lights on, but most of the windows were dark. He saw no one.
The wind felt chilly on his face and hands. It had a wet fresh smell that made him uneasy with its hints of lonely distances. A feeling of gloom began to smother his excitement, and for just a moment he wished he were still in bed.
I’ll be with the kids pretty soon, he told himself. It’ll be great.
Shivering, he set his bicycle in the street, pushed it along with one foot on a pedal until it was gliding fast, then swung himself onto the seat. As he coasted down the lane, he checked his wristwatch. Ten till one.
Soon Jeremy found himself on Ocean Front Drive, pedaling alongside Funland. He spotted a wino sprawled between bushes in front of the wall, but farther up, near the entrance, there was nobody.
Maybe I’m the first one here, he thought.
Or maybe they’re gathered on the boardwalk, out of sight.
He glided to the bicycle rack, hopped down, slid his bike between the bars, and chained it there. He walked toward the archway. He trotted up the stairs. Standing beneath the face of the clown, he scanned the darkness ahead. He saw the ticket booth and the boardwalk beyond it, but nobody was there.
He checked his wristwatch. Two minutes after one.
He strode forward into the shadowed tunnel of the entryway, past the ticket booth, past the salt-water-taffy shop on his right and the souvenir shop on his left. Standing in the middle of the boardwalk, he looked from side to side. He had a clear view of Funland from one end to the other—except where shadows tore out patches of blackness—and he saw no one.
Where are they?
Not here, that’s for sure. Unless they’re hiding, planning to sneak up and scare me.
Jeremy waited. Nobody appeared.
What if it’s a trick? he thought. Suppose they never planned to show up, and this was just a rotten trick to stick it to the wimp?
He leaned back against the main ticket booth. Off in the distance, a sea gull squealed. Combers, pale in the moonlight, tumbled onto the beach. He felt cold and small and alone.
Should’ve known it was too good to be true, he thought.
Probably Tanya’s idea to stand me up like this.
Tanya.
Jeremy sank down and hugged his knees to his chest.
Big joke. Set up the nerd. All the time, they were laughing at me behind my back.