Janie: And?

Cabel: And. I have a full-ride scholarship.

Cabel is pushed violently from the beanbag chair. And pounced upon. And told, repeatedly, what a bastard he is.

Janie is told that she will most certainly get a scholarship too, with her grades. Unless she plays hooky with drug dealers.

And then there is some kissing.

December 10, 2005

The weekend is shot. Cabel is back to courting Shay, and Janie is working Friday night, and Saturday and Sunday first shifts at the nursing home.

But Carrie finds Janie. And Janie, worried that the drug bust will go down over the weekend, really doesn’t want Carrie mixed up in it. She asks Carrie if she wants to study for exams sometime. They reluctantly agree on Saturday night at Janie’s.

Carrie shows up around six p.m., and she’s already loaded. Janie makes her haul out her books and notes, anyway. “Are you gonna go to college or not?” she asks sharply.

“Well, sure,” Carrie says. “I guess. Unless Stu wants to get married.”

“Does he?”

“I think so. Maybe. Sometime.”

“Do you?” Janie asks, after a moment.

“Sure, why not. Get me away from my parents.”

“Your parents aren’t that bad, really. Are they?”

Carrie grimaces. “You should have seen them before.”

“Before what?”

“Before we moved in next door to you.”

Janie hesitates. Trying to decide if this is the right time to ask. “Hey, Carrie?”

“What.”

“Who’s Carson?”

Carrie stares at Janie. “What did you just say?”

“I said, who is Carson?”

Carrie’s face grows alarmed. “How do you know about Carson?”

“I don’t. Otherwise, I wouldn’t need to ask.” Janie is walking a thin line here. One she can’t see. Carrie, obviously troubled, paces around the kitchen. “But how did you know to ask me about him?”

“You said his name once,” Janie says carefully, “in your sleep. I was just curious.”

Carrie sloshes some vodka in a glass. Sits down. Starts to cry. Oh, shit, Janie thinks.

And then Carrie spills the story.

“Carson…was four.”

Janie’s stomach twists.

“He drowned. We were camping by a lake…it was…” Carrie trails off and takes a swallow of her drink.

“He was my little brother. I was ten. I was helping Mom and Dad set up the campsite.”

Janie closes her burning eyes. “Oh, shit, Carrie.”

“He wandered down to the lake—we didn’t notice. And he fell off the dock. We tried…we tried…” Carrie puts her face in her hands. Takes a long, shuddering breath. “We moved here a year later.” Her voice turns quiet. “To start over. We don’t talk about him.”

Janie puts her arm around Carrie and hugs her. Doesn’t know what to say. “I’m so sorry.”

Carrie nods, and then whispers in a broken voice, “I should have watched him better.”

“Oh, honey,” Janie whispers. She holds Carrie close for a moment, until Carrie gently pulls away.

“It’s okay.” Carrie sniffles.

Janie, feeling completely helpless, fetches a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom. “I don’t have any

tissues…Carrie? Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Carrie wrings her hands. Blows her nose. Sniffles. “I don’t know, Janers. I thought it would go away. I was so tired…so tired of being sad. I couldn’t stand any more silent, pitying looks.”

“Does Stu know?”

Carrie shakes her head. “I should probably tell him.”

They are quiet for a long time.

“I guess maybe,” Janie murmurs after a while, “the bad stuff never goes away. And it’s nobody’s fault.”

Carrie sucks in a shivery breath and lets it out slowly. “Ah, well. We’ll see, huh?” She smiles through the tears. “Thanks, Janers. You’re a really good friend.” She pauses, and adds in a soft voice, “Just keep being normal now, okay? One sad look and I’m outa here, I swear to God.”

Janie grins. “You got it. Kiddo.”

December 11, 2005, 2:41 a.m.

When Carrie dreams, this time Janie knows what to do.

The forest, the river, the boy, drowning. Grinning.

Carrie, looking at Janie. Only a few minutes before the shark comes. Carrie, crying out, “Help him! Save him!”

Janie concentrates, staring Carrie in the eyes. “Ask me, Carrie. Ask me.”

He’s bobbing and sinking, that eerie grin on his face.

“Help him!” she cries again to Janie.

Carrie! thinks Janie with all her might. I can’t help him. Ask me. Ask me to help…you.

In the morning, Carrie remarks at breakfast, “I had the weirdest dream. It was one of these nightmares that I keep getting about Carson, but this time, it all changed and turned into this strange little…something. It was surreal.”

“Yeah?” munched Janie. “Cool. Must be the feng shui over here or something.”

“You think?”

“I dunno. Try rearranging your room, and then at night, tell yourself that you’re going to change the nightmares from now on to work with your new harmonious surroundings.”

Carrie gives her a suspicious look. “Are you yanking my chain?”