That Was Then, This Is Now

"O.K.," she sobbed. "O.K." Then she reached over and held my hand. I took a quivering breath and looked at the ceiling. That hadn't been so hard after all. If I could do that, maybe there were a few other things I could take care of.

"Well," Cathy said finally, gulping back her tears, "your mother says you'll be all right in a couple of days." She sort of half-laughed. "You just look so awful, Bryon."

"You look great," I said. She didn't really, I guess, because you never do see a girl who looks good while she's crying except in the movies, but to me she looked good.

"I'll be fine in a day or two; then we can go find M&M. I got a lead on him," I said. My mind was clearing up.

"Really?" Like I hoped, this took her mind off me for a little while, and like I hoped, not much.

"Yeah. Mark says he's seen him at this hippie commune-house."

Cathy looked shocked. "One of those free-love places?"

"I don't think that's the right word for it." I couldn't help grinning. "Anyway, he's been staying there. I went over to look for him yesterday, I think"--I was still a little confused as to what day it was, or what time. "He wasn't there then, but maybe we can find him. Don't worry, the place wasn't that bad. He could have been in worse places."

"All right." She smiled at me like I knew everything on earth, like whatever I said went, and it really made me feel good. "We'll go look for him when you get better."

She reached over and gave me a quick, light kiss. Because of the stitches in my lip, this hurt. But not much.

*

I took a couple of days' sick leave from work--I didn't want to go to work looking like some prize fighter. But as soon as I was able I took the car and went for a drive by myself. I had been thinking about a lot of things. Cathy, Mark, M&M, and Charlie. I drove around for two hours before I finally made up my mind.

I drove out to the cemetery, the cheap cemetery where people who don't have money get buried. I hadn't gone to Charlie's funeral, but I knew where he was buried.

I finally found his grave. This was not easy since there wasn't much of a marker. There weren't any big headstones in the whole place. I went and stood in front of his barren grave. No flowers, no nothing. Just the place where what was left of Charlie lay. I said out loud, "Thanks for letting me use your car, Charlie. Thanks for saving my life."

This wasn't hard to do. I wished I'd done it when he could have heard me. I don't know, maybe it was a dumb thing to do, but I sure felt better.

I picked up Cathy two nights later and we went looking for M&M. Mark had gone out somewhere; he was spending more and more time away from home. Mom was worried about him, I could tell. By now she was also bugged about where he was getting the money he kept bringing home. I still figured he was doing some serious poker playing, but I didn't want to tell Mom that, as she didn't have too high an opinion of poker, or gambling in general. Me getting mixed up in that pool-hustling business hadn't done much to glorify gambling, either.

"I just love your mother," Cathy said as we left the house. She and Mom were getting along pretty good. This was fine with me, as I dug her parents O.K., too. Right now Cathy was hacked off at her old man; she blamed him for M&M's running away. But I liked the guy.

"Most people do," I said. "She knows everybody within twenty miles of here. The mailman brings her all the stray kittens he finds, and the neighborhood grocer gives her free cat food."

We were feeling real good driving to the hippie house. We laughed and kidded and horsed around all the way. I figured we had a pretty good chance of coming home with M&M this time.

There were two Volkswagen buses parked in the driveway of the old house; I knew they belonged to the hippies because of the flowers and slogans painted on them. One read "War Is Unhealthy for Children and Other Living Things." Really bright.

"This is where he is?" Cathy sighed. "I still can hardly believe that baby is living in a place like this."

I guess big sisters always think of little brothers as babies, no matter how old they are. "Maybe it was good for him," I said. "Maybe being on his own made him grow up a little." I only half-believed this; I had always had a good opinion of M&M's mind, but being smart ain't being mature, as I have often proved. "Anyway, we can't be sure he even wants to come home with us."

"If he doesn't, Daddy is going to call the cops and have them bring him home. He doesn't want to, but he keeps saying M&M has had his fling, and it's time he came home. This is my only chance to get him home without dragging the police into it."

"I didn't know that. Well, let's hope he comes with us. Maybe I could slug him and carry him home."

Cathy laughed. "No, let the cops do it if it comes to that. I'd rather have him hate the police than you."

We walked up to the house. There were kids on the porch, just watching the street. I stopped to talk with a Biblical-looking guy.

"I'm lookin' for Baby Freak. He around?"

"Yeah, he is." The guy was staring directly into my eyes. He had friendly, trusting eyes. "Are you a friend of his?"

"Yeah, a good friend. This is his sister."

Cathy gave him the big smile she won me with. The guy smiled back.

"He's upstairs, I think." Suddenly the guy looked worried. "He's been floating for a couple of days now."

"Oh, no kiddin'," I said, keeping my cool, and Cathy followed my example.

"Talk to his travel agent," the hippie said. "He's the cat with the red hair, inside."

"Travel agent? What's that?" Cathy whispered as we went in. I didn't want to tell her, didn't want her to feel the sudden cold waves of fear that I was feeling, so I said, "I don't know."

We found who we were looking for--a big, heavy guy with fire-colored hair, beard, and mustache.

"We're looking for Baby Freak," I said. I was beginning to see why M&M had acquired this other nickname: most of the kids there were at least seventeen or eighteen, with a lot of college-age kids. It was a real crowded place, but now I can't remember what everyone was doing. At least some of the kids were smoking grass; you could tell that by the smell. I was hoping the place didn't get raided while we were there. You can get busted just for being at a place where people are smoking pot.

"Yeah?" Red said. "Man, that kid is on a bad trip."

Cathy made a funny, yelping little sound.

"Some of these freaks have been dropping acid. Baby wanted to try it, so I sat with him. Bad trip, man, really bad. He's calmed down a little now, but all day today me and some of these other cats been holdi

ng him, keeping him from jumping out the window."

I felt like I was going to throw up. Cathy was as white as a sheet. "Can we see him?" she said, in a tiny, expressionless voice.

"Sure."

We followed him up the stairs. He led us to the same room Mark and I had gone to the last time we were there. This time no one was there except the blond chick, who was curled up on the bed asleep, and someone huddled in the corner. To my surprise, Red walked over to the huddle. "Hey, man, there's people here to see you," he said softly.

"Are they spiders?" The person didn't raise his head, but the voice was M&M's.

"No, man." Red laughed gently. "They're squares."

M&M looked up, and I hardly recognized him. His hair was to his shoulders, he was a lot thinner, he was dirty, and the expression on his face was one I had never seen on him before--suspicion.

"M&M, baby, it's me--Cathy." Cathy kneeled down in front of him. He was staring at her, not seeing her.

"Square spiders?" he said, and his face was contorted in fear. "I don't want to see any spiders."

"It's me, Cathy," she said again. "Your sister. Don't you want to go home?"

"I went to my stomach," M&M said in a high, unnatural voice. He was talking too fast. "I went down into my stomach and all these spiders came out. I never knew there were spiders in my stomach. I was there ten years, and all that time these spiders kept chewing on me. They were big spiders."

Cathy choked back a sob. "Baby, what have you done to yourself?" she said in a whisper.

He seemed to see her. "Cathy? I screamed and screamed and screamed, but nobody came to help me." He was shaking. He didn't look right. He looked sick. "I kept trying to get back, but the spiders held me down. Held me down and chewed on me and the colors went in and out. I listened to the colors and they were screaming too. Red and yellow screamed loudest. The spiders were eating them too."

"He kept trying to jump out the window," Red said. "All day. We took turns holding him down."

What did the guy want, a medal? He had given him the stuff in the first place.

"Cathy," I said. "We ought to take him to the hospital."

She looked at me quickly. "Hospital?" Then she nodded. "Let me call Daddy first." She looked at Red. "Do you have a phone I can use?" She followed him out of the room.