being surveyed, at least in kindergarten and the first couple of grades. But there are only four. So there was something special about those four, and the Children’s Health Institute for Latent Diseases knew about it.”
“And what about Julie?” Sally asked, her voice quivering. “Was there something special about her too?”
Lucy reached across the table and squeezed Sally’s hand. “Oh, Sally, I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m trying to figure out what might be going on. And—and maybe there was something about Julie that nobody knows about.”
“And maybe there wasn’t,” Sally replied. She stood up and began gathering her things together. “Maybe we’re both a little bit crazy, Lucy. Maybe I’d better go home and do what everyone wants me to do—forget about Julie and go on with my life.”
“And what about Jason?” Lucy countered. “Julie’s dead, and Randy’s missing, and Jason’s part of that study too! What about him?”
Sally’s eyes suddenly blazed. “What about him? What about all the other children in the survey? Apparently nothing’s wrong with the others, at least not the ones here in Eastbury.” And then, as she saw the hurt in Lucy’s eyes, it was Sally’s turn to apologize for her hasty words. “Lucy, forgive me. I didn’t think—I just let loose. Of course I’m worried about Jason. Ever since Julie died, I’ve been worried sick about Jason. I’m edgy all the time, and I can’t work, and half the time I think I’m losing my mind. But I don’t know what to do next.”
“Then don’t do anything,” Lucy said. “Don’t do anything at all. Wait until Monday. I’ll go to Boston, and I’ll talk to the people at the Institute. Then we can deride what to do next. Okay?”
Silently, Sally nodded her head. A few minutes later, as she and Jason were on their way home, Sally found herself glancing over at her son.
Was there something about him that made him special?
Deep in her heart, she hoped not. All she really wanted for her little boy right then was for him to be just like all the other little boys.
Certainly, he looked just like other boys.
But was he?
For Steve and Sally Montgomery, the evening was like a play, with each of them trying, as best as possible, to pretend nothing was wrong between them, or within their home.
And yet the house itself seemed not to have recovered from the loss of its youngest occupant, and there was an emptiness to the rooms of which both Steve and Sally were acutely aware.
Steve tried to fill the void with three martinis, but even as he drank them, he knew it was useless. Instead of feeling the euphoria that ordinarily enveloped him with the second drink, he was becoming increasingly depressed. As he fixed the third drink, his back to his wife, he heard himself speaking.
“Aren’t you making dinner tonight?” There was a cutting edge to his voice and, as the words floated in the atmosphere, he wished he could retrieve them. He turned to face Sally, an apology on his lips, but the damage had already been done.
“If you’re in such a hurry, you might start fixing it yourself.”
Jason, sprawled on the floor in front of the television, looked up at his parents, sensing the tension in the room. “Why don’t we go out?” he suggested.
“Because money doesn’t grow on trees,” Steve snapped. As his son’s chin began to tremble, he set his drink down, then knelt down to tousle Jason’s hair. “I’m sorry, sport. I guess your mom and I are just feeling edgy.”
Jason squirmed uncomfortably. “It’s okay,” he mumbled. A moment later he slipped out of the room and Sally heard him going upstairs. When the sound of his footsteps had disappeared, she turned to Steve.
“They’re studying him too, you know,” she said. “It wasn’t just Julie, They’re watching Jason too.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Steve groaned. He’d listened to Sally’s recital of the day’s events earlier. As far as he could see, none of it meant anything. It was all nothing more than coincidence. Why wouldn’t she drop it? “For Christ’s sake, honey, can’t you leave it alone?” he demanded, but remorse at his own words immediately flooded over him.
It had been that way ever since the funeral. It was as if, with her burial, Julie had thrown him off balance, had somehow disturbed the symmetry of his life, drained away the joy he used to feel. Now he felt as though a stranger was living in his body, an angry, mournful stranger who had