Time Line Read online

  1 Downright

  2 Absorb

  3 Forget

  4 Detail

  5 Racing

  6 Technically

  7 Behave

  8 Confirming

  9 Convinced

  10 Fooling

  11 Isolated

  12 Picture

  13 Dropped

  14 Summon

  15 Nasty

  16 Semi

  17 Thumb

  18 Bet

  19 Crossroads

  20 Impulse

  21 Rolling

  22 Aware

  23 Cells

  24 Meant

  25 Attention

  26 Indeed

  27 This

  Chapter 1

  “It’s almost as if,” Hannamaker said, “in another time and place this wouldn’t be happening.”

  Pike wasn’t sure what he meant exactly--and whether the guy even knew what he meant--but it was hard to argue with the bottom line.

  Pike said, “You got that right,” and Andrea and Eva and Dave laughed.

  It was the day after Christmas and they were in an 18-and-over club in Mesa, the warm-up band finished and the main act setting up, and Pike supposed you could be in worse circumstances.

  Yesterday had been his first-ever Christmas away from his parents, and it started off slightly bittersweet but the timing seemed appropriate given his dad’s increasing infidelity issues--and who the heck knows what his mom may or may not have been doing to counteract those, not that you cold blame her, but still.

  Lucy cheerfully cooked up another storm, this time a variation on Eggs Benedict followed by homemade pastries with blueberry filling, and Gertrude dropped in, and there were some presents passed around, luckily only one coming Pike’s way, since he unfortunately didn’t get anyone a darn thing.

  In fact it would have been downright embarrassing if Jack gave him something, since Pike was still ticked off at the guy and didn’t see why Dani needed to drive all that way backwards and rescue him at that fake old-western town where Pike ditched him.

  But Jack and Andrea did exchange a couple gifts, as did Mitch and Lucy and Gertrude, and admittedly Mitch’s one to Pike wasn’t the most exciting--it was a used edition of ‘More Psychic Discoveries Behind the Iron Curtain’--and frankly Pike needed this kind of overload on Christmas morning like a hole in the head, but you had to appreciate Mitch’s thought.

  Dave and Eva were the high school kids from Pocatello, who happened to pick up Pike hitchhiking not once but twice on Interstate-15, in northern Utah near the Idaho line.

  Pike of course had been trying to help Dani resolve the issue with Chuck--while he was still alive--meaning cut him off at the pass before he met Dani in the karaoke bar in Blackfoot, which would lead to his untimely demise a month later in the hot tub in Palm Springs.

  So Pike gave it his best effort and traveled back there, both times coming up dangerously short of any particular town--and fortunately it happened to be Halloween and Dave and Eva were cutting half a day of school and heading to a mall in Salt Lake City, and they spotted him looking kind of dazed standing in the weeds on the east shoulder of the interstate.

  It was clear to Pike that getting there in these trips was a bit iffy, in terms of pinpointing the location--he ended up in the water in Berkeley for example, in the middle of that swimming pool--and for whatever reason he had more success, accuracy-wise, returning, meaning typically to Beacon . . . but that wasn’t the important thing.

  The first time, Dave had a wrap-job on his arm, and he was cranky, Eva pointing out that he was one of the stars of the team, varsity basketball, and injured something in a meaningless pre-season scrimmage a couple days ago. So she did most of the talking and she was perky and fun, and Pike wondered if he stuck around for a while that maybe Dave would slide out of the picture.

  But Pike bought them lunch as a token of appreciation and by the end Dave was a good guy and Pike felt guilty thinking like that.

  Then of course Pike screwed it up the first go-round with Chuck, gave him the wrong time to meet the fake talent scout in Boise, and it didn’t play out well . . . and on Christmas Eve, instead of settling in watching football and eating Lucy’s turkey, Pike had to first drag himself back up to Idaho to re-do Chuck.

  Not surprisingly Dave and Eva were barreling down the interstate again and spotted him, the other side of the freeway this time, a little more north toward Pocatello, and Pike had had to walk a while first . . . but once again they picked him up.

  And of course now Eva was the one with the arm wrap or cast, and she was the high school basketball player, not Dave, and she was in the bad mood.

  The only weird part was they knew him, they remembered picking him up the first time . . . and Pike had to wrap his head around this one, and finally figured out that he was arriving a day later now, where last time he had to spend a night in a motel to kill time.

  So yeah. They weren’t exactly the same Dave and Eva, and their car was different too, so on the one hand you threw out the logic but on the other it made sense that they remembered him. Dave even asked if he’d found the karaoke place in Blackfoot last time, that he’d been asking about.

  Pike had decided a few of these travel-trips ago that you’d better just go with the flow, that what you expect to be logical isn’t necessarily, and that sometimes you’re surprised the other way.

  Meaning . . . quit trying to figure it out.

  The second trip had worked better, he’d made a one-hour adjustment to Chuck’s itinerary, and all was well that ends well on Christmas Eve back in Lucy’s place in Anthem.

  Pike had thrown it out there, when Dave and Eva were dropping him off (round 2) that he’d be in Arizona for Christmas and why not come down. It being Halloween in Pocatello, they had almost two months to mull it over, and Pike figured he’d never hear from them again in a million years, that it was simply a polite gesture on his part--but son of a gun, they took him up on it, and here they all were rendezvousing at a place called Crouch 3-A, which on the outside looked like a warehouse but was pretty crazily alive inside.

  And dang . . . the women down here, and Pike could see Jack absorbing the field the same way--a little overdoing it in fact, where Pike started feeling sorry for Andrea.

  But she seemed fine, and was hitting it off with Eva, and Dave was laid back, enjoying the scene, and someone would crack a joke that wasn’t that funny, but they were in a good state and everyone would laugh out of proportion.

  The new band had a banner and part of it was obscured but it said Somebody and The Destroyers, and Pike figured their repertoire would be grungy, hard rock similar to the opening band, and the musicians had wild hair and sleeveless t-shirts and major tattoos including running up their necks.

  But their music was surprisingly light, and melodic and danceable.

  It didn’t take long for Jack and Andrea, and then Dave and Eva to get out there and bop around, which was in a squared off area with a slick floor below the stage . . . and just like that, Pike felt like the odd one out.

  There were a few slow dances mixed in which amplified the situation . . . and man, they’d switched it around by the third slow one . . . Jack was dancing slow with Eva, and Pike had to admit pretty dang close, and Dave was doing the same with Andrea. No harm, no foul, apparently.

  Pike went to the concession stand to get an iced tea, and there was a girl in line behind him. He figured what the hay . . . and asked her if she wanted to dance, and before she could answer, her boyfriend, standing there more or less right with her, gave Pike a look. And how could he have not noticed the guy?

  Luckily that’s all that happened, and Pike got his beverage--and a couple hot dogs now too, deciding, dang, the odd-man-out business makes you hungry, on top of frust
rated.

  He went back to the dance floor and stood on the sidelines until the festivities wrapped up, the band frontman announcing they were going to get down and dirty these last few songs . . . and those were a bit harder edged, but not much, though Jack and Andrea and Dave and Eva seeemd thrilled with the whole thing and came out of there sweating like dogs.

  On the sidewalk heading to the vehicles Jack said, “I hear they got an all-night Winter Carnival going on in Tempe. Near the college.” Meaning the U of A.

  “What,” Pike said, “you’re an expert suddenly on Phoenix nightlife?”

  “I’m just saying,” Jack said, “some dude mentioned it between songs. Whatever.”

  “I heard him too,” Eva said.

  “So did I,” Dave said. “And someone else added that they have ice skating.”

  “You’re kidding,” Andrea said, which made sense to Pike, that reaction, the overnight low last night feeling about 80 degrees, and Mitch relentlessly blasting the air conditioning in the little apartment that he was putting Pike and Jack up in.

  “She’s good,” Jack said, referring apparently to Andrea’s skating prowess--something Pike never knew about in the brief time he was dating her.

  Then again, he never asked her. Andrea had showed up at Hamilton this year out of the blue, and Pike at first wondered if she was connected to the Milburns’ disappearance--as a bizarre substitute for Audrey--but he put that out of his head.

  He did ask her where she lived previously and he couldn’t remember her answer, but he figured it must have been somewhere cold now that he was hearing this. Maybe someplace with frozen lakes.

  “Well I’m down for that,” Eva said. And they all said they were, except Pike, who was pretty tired at this point and had had enough, but you went along with the herd.

  They’d closed off a couple of downtown blocks for the carnival. It was a creative setup for down here in the southwest, you had to give them credit. They had a version of that weird sport called curling, there was a competition involving ice blocks, and they even had a mini ski jump, where you climbed a tower and snowboarded down a ramp that looked like it was packed with actual snow that they must have manufactured somehow, and you landed in a big foam pit.

  And yeah, there was an ice rink, the main attraction, and most of the skaters were in shorts and t-shirts, and the quality of the ice didn’t look that great--and how could it--but still, a winter carnival in the southwest, where people flocked to get out of the cold weather in their part of the country, and it was definitely Christmas-time turned upside down.

  He and Jack were shaky out there but Dave and Eva weren’t bad, on account of living in Idaho, Pike figured . . . but wow, yeah, here came Andrea, effortlessly gliding around the rink and passing up most of the other skaters. And then when she leaned forward a couple times and really cranked it out, not slowing down one bit around the turns, she had the body position and mannerisms of the Olympians you saw on TV.

  There were two girls skating together and they were wearing identical ASU baseball caps and giggling as they passed by.

  “They’re flirting with us,” Jack said. “You think?”

  “Hard to know,” Pike said. “They keep lapping us, so they might be laughing at us, rather than flirting with us.”

  “That’s a good point.”

  “I know. I’m more perceptive than you. More grey matter in the front of the brain.”

  Jack said, “You’re saying though, I used bad judgment in following you down here?”

  “No,” Pike said, “I used poor judgment inviting you.”

  You could see Jack felt bad, and even though Pike wanted to rub it in, that was admittedly a low blow. Pike said, “I was joking. Sort of.”

  “I thought we got over it in Palm Springs . . . my little screw-up. Once we helped Dani and all . . . No?”

  “Okay,” Pike said, “you put it that way, your eyes getting all fluttery like you’re going for an Academy Award . . . forget it. You’re right, I’m past it.” Not quite the case, but good enough. Pike told himself to stop being an ass.

  “Tell you what,” Jack said. “I’ll make it up to you.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Those two girls? Which one you want to skate with?”

  Pike thought about the question. Not so much which one he was more interested in, but what Jack had in mind exactly. This could be entertaining, so Pike said the shorter one.

  Jack nodded like he was a waiter who’d just taken someone’s order and was heading matter-of-factly back to the kitchen--Pike thinking, what a cocky attitude on the guy--but son of a gun, it did play out pretty dang simple, and a minute later here came the shorter one skating over to Pike, extending her hand, big grin, and identifying herself as Heather.

  Pike was afraid to shake it actually, because he thought he might end up off balance and fall down, but he took a chance, and it was fine, and he said, “I’m going to level with you upfront . . . I’m from a dusty hick town in the Central Valley--that’s California . . . not sure what that guy told you, but I can’t skate worth beans.”

  “I noticed,” Heather said, and there was a gleam in her eye, a little friendly mischief to it, and Pike figured okay, this might not be overly-embarrassing.

  So Heather took his hand again and they did 3 or 4 laps and they got the essentials out of the way . . . she was a freshman at Arizona State and she lived in the dorms, but her family lived in Glendale, which was why she was still around during Christmas break.

  Pike explained that he was going to Fresno State, also living in the freshmen dorms, and his parents didn’t live around here but he and his friend Jack were taking up another friend on an invitation to come down for the holidays . . . so what do you know.

  “How’s the food in your dorm?” Heather said. “Ours is kind of snarky.”

  Pike was thinking she used the wrong word but he got the idea. “Ours isn’t bad. I mean as far institutional stuff goes.”

  “Do you have a meal plan, or what?”

  “Uh, yeah. I do.”

  “What’s your roommate like?” she said. “Mine, we’re close. It took a while, and she had this boyfriend, and he kept coming over, but then they broke up.”

  “Where’s she from?” Pike said, hoping not to answer any more questions about his fake college experience and fake dorm life. He was thinking he at least should have used one of the JC’s . . . Jeez.

  “She’s from Andalusia, Illinois,” Heather said.

  “Sounds complicated,” Pike said. “Or at least small.”

  “It is. I was curious, I had to search for it on a map. It’s right against the border of Iowa . . . Effie says there’s a place that sells hot dogs on a stick? Where you cross a street to get there? When you do, you’re eating in Iowa.”

  “I like dogs on a stick,” Pike said, and Heather looked at him a little funny for a second and then she smiled and nodded, and Pike thought this could get interesting, you never know.

  “You still haven’t told me about yours,” she said.

  Uh-oh.

  Pike started to say, “Well, how would you put it . . . he was one of those guys that blended in . . . except at meals, I mean there, he could really put it away . . .” And he was trying to come up with a name for the fake roommate, and this really was getting ridiculous--though obviously you couldn’t reverse yourself and tell Heather you were still in high school. Honesty definitely not being the best policy there.

  Heather was listening intently and Pike unfortunately felt a bunch more questions coming on, but then Heather was looking past him and said, “Hey, isn’t that your friend?”

  Pike turned around and across the rink there was Eva, down on the ice, Dave helping her, and Andrea noticing what was going on and getting over there quick, and one of the rink attendants was on his way as well.

  Eva was sitting up but you could hear her crying, which wasn’t good, and worse, unless someone had spilled something red, which would be a huge coincidence, it
sure looked like blood on the ice.

  “What the heck,” Pike said.

  “I know,” Heather said. “Did someone, like, run over her with a skate?”

  “No idea,” Pike said, but it was kind of shaping up that way as he took in the whole scene, Eva appearing to be clutching her left hand and some older guy with a baggy sweater and a big gut standing there off to the side looking pretty helpless.

  Dave and Andrea and the attendant got her up and they skated her off the rink and into the little DJ booth next to the snack bar, and a few minutes later Eva emerged with her hand wrapped up in gauze, and trying to smile it off like it was no big deal, though Pike figured no matter how you spin it, it couldn’t feel good getting run over by an ice skate.

  Dave said, a little shaky, “The manager says we should take her in. That she might need some stitches. Which I’m tending to agree with.”

  “Most definitely,” Andrea said. “Good to make sure of everything.”

  There were benches, and everyone, including Jack, was taking off their skates and changing to their street shoes. “I saw you go down,” Jack said to Eva, “but I didn’t see what happened next.”

  Which Pike could understand, Jack emerging as the worst skater of the group, even worse than he was, and when you were doing all you could to just stay on your feet your scope of what else was going on was limited.

  “It was my fault,” Eva said, “I looked over my shoulder for some silly reason and I stumbled and put out my hand to brace my fall . . . The gentleman couldn’t help himself.” Meaning the helpless-looking guy, who Pike noticed now was still out there skating, which kind of ticked him off, but you couldn’t control people.

  Someone pointed them to an urgent care place that was open late and did the job quicker than an emergency room, and Dave tried to joke that who knows, we may even make it back for the second session. Though Dave looked kind of white as he said this, and Pike figured he’d gotten a good look at Eva’s hand before they wrapped it and it must not have looked great.