'Monument High. A senior. Interested in drama. Played one of the leads in the senior class play.' Bunting paused, then added: 'She's really built. Stacked, like they say.'
Bunting hesitated, coughed, a bit nervous. He and Archie were alone on the front steps of the school, the entire student body and faculty inside at the special memorial mass for the soul of Brother Eugene. Bunting had approached Archie as the students had filed into the assembly hall, asking to speak to him later. Archie had motioned him outside.
'Now?' Bunting asked. 'This minute?'
The odor of burning candles filled the air.
'Why not?' Archie asked, a dare in his voice. 'They'll never miss us.'
Bunting had followed, swaggering, unwilling to let Archie see his apprehension about skipping the mass. He sat uneasily now beside Archie, unable to fully enjoy giving his report about Obie and the girl.
'Old Obie,' Archie mused. Was that fondness in his voice? 'I knew he was hooked, had it bad.' He said no more. He had dispatched Bunting to find out details about the girl, a test of Bunting's effectiveness as a gatherer of information. He was also curious about her.
Bunting studied Archie, wanting to play it cool: always had to play it cool with Archie. Archie was unpredictable, and Bunting had to always be on the alert, trying to stay one step ahead. You never knew whether Archie was pleased or pissed off. So Bunting walked a continuous thin line. But it was worth it, of course. His future was linked with Archie, for the remainder of the school year, anyway. His burning ambition was to succeed Archie as the Assigner of the Vigils, and he had the inside track on the job. Archie hadn't singled out anyone else for special attention, and he was relying more and more on Bunting. In fact, Bunting was slowly but surely taking Obie's place.
Bunting had always envied Obie's nearness to Archie, which meant being near the center of power. Now he had something else to envy Obie for — his involvement with Laurie Gundarson. She was too beautiful for somebody like Obie. The other night, while he and Harley and Cornacchio were bushwhacking, they had spotted Obie and Laurie clinging together in Obie's car. Bunting had started to burn with both lust and jealousy. He was a virgin, muck to his dismay and disgust, except in wild dreams in the privacy of his bed or the bathroom. He dreamed of girls exactly like Laurie, went weak sometimes with desire and longing. Yet when he came within range of a' girl, something went wrong. He was tongue-tied, blushed furiously, didn't know what to do with his arms and legs. So he kept his distance and, not wanting to betray himself with the guys, he maintained a sort of world-weary demeanor, as if he'd seen it all and done it all.
Bunting looked toward the doorway — was someone standing there? One of the brothers on the search for delinquents?
'They're all too busy praying,' Archie said, intercepting Bunting's glance. 'You're always safe when someone's praying for the dead. Go on. Give me some specifics about that Laurie Gundarson.'
So Bunting gave him specifics, a routine he'd learned observing Obie at the Vigil meetings, flipping open the pages of his notebook.
'Laurie Gundarson, straight
Enough specifics. Looking up, he added, confidentially: 'She's gone out with lots of guys, but I think she's one of those touch-me-not types.' Bunting was improvising now, letting himself be carried away by his vision of Laurie Gundarson. 'Stuck up, too. A teaser.' Bunting had given her a big hello once at a dance, after a half hour of summoning up his courage, and she'd looked at him as if he was transparent. Made him feel like a pane of glass. 'Under all that sweet stuff and the honor roll crap, she's a bitch.'
'Stick to the facts,' Archie said dryly.
'Hell, anybody can tell by just looking at her that she's a tease,' Bunting said. 'Stacked but acting like she doesn't know what she has, what it's all about. Poor Obie.' He chortled. 'She's probably driving him up a wall.'
Archie took his attention away from Bunting. That described his action precisely. He didn't merely look away or become distracted. He had the ability to shut a door in people's faces, dismissing them immediately, indicating his boredom or disinterest or indifference by a slight movement of his head.
Bunting realized that Archie had shut him out, leaving him alone, exposed here on the school steps.
'We saw them the other night,' Bunting said, needing to capture Archie's attention again. 'Making out at the Chasm.'
Interest flashed in Archie's eyes.
'How far did they go?'
Bunting shrugged. 'I don't know. I recognized Obie's car — he hasn't washed it for like ten years. It's lousy with dirt. We got a quick glance. They were close, maybe kissing, arms around each other.'
'That all?'
'Listen, for a tease like Laurie Gundarson, that's going a long way.'
Long pause, Archie thinking, eyes far away.
'You want us to do something about Obie and the girl?' Bunting asked. Gently, tentatively.
'What would you do?' Archie asked.
'Whatever you want.'
Archie chuckled, a sound as dry as rolling dice.
'An interesting offer,' he said, looking at Bunting again, amused.
Bunting smiled. Was that a look of admiration on Archie's face? Approval? He wanted Archie to know that he was loyal, that there were no limits to what he would do for Archie and the Vigils.
The doorway behind them exploded with bodies. Trinity students never simply left a classroom or school building: they stampeded, jousting for position, using arms and elbows, knees and thighs, to best advantage. Guys now swarmed down the stairs, swiveling, braking to avoid Archie and Bunting. Bunting leaped aside, but Archie remained on the steps, calm, unruffled, letting the tide of bodies flow around him. 'I'll see you later,' Archie called to Bunting, mouthing the words so that the sophomore would understand the dismissal over the noise.
Archie watched Bunting fleeing into the mass of bodies, glad to be rid of him. Archie disliked his know-it-all attitude, his smirks and strutting walk, his eager display of willingness to carry out orders. Oh, Bunting was smart enough, but he lacked style. He was gross and obvious and superficial. Not subtle at all. Subtlety was an element Archie considered precious, the most important commodity of all for the Assigner. He had never bothered to tell Bunting that.
If Bunting had been a proper pupil, Archie would have been willing to share his secrets. To tell him, for instance, how to pick victims and about the secrets of passion. Find out a person's passion and you have him in the palm of your hand. Find out what a person loves or hates or fears, and you can play that person like a violin. Find someone who cares and what he cares about, and he is yours on a silver platter. So simple, so obvious. But some people never saw this. Particularly Bunting. Bunting also wanted to generate excitement by physical means — setting up fights, crowding people, looking for blood. He had once, for crissakes, suggested loosening a banister on the third-floor stairs so that a kid would go crashing through space. Stupid. Dangerous. Not worthy of Archie Costello. Not worthy of the Vigils. When physical combat entered the scene, trouble came with it. The chocolates, for instance, even though the violence had been controlled. Yet it could have been a disaster. He could have told Bunting to remember the chocolates. But hadn't. He gave no warnings to Bunting.
'How can you stand that little bastard?'
Carter spoke directly behind Archie. He had seen Archie and Bunting leaving the assembly hall before mass, not surprised at Archie's lack of respect, his lack of guilt. Knowing that Archie was invulnerable, he focused his anger on Bunting. Somebody should be angry about what had happened to Brother Eugene.
'Bunting serves a purpose,' Archie replied, not turning, letting Carter do the approaching. Which he did, of course, sitting down beside Archie.
'Got a Hershey?' Archie inquired.
Carter shook his head impatiently. Some stooges always had Hershey bars in their pockets to keep Archie in supply. Thank God Archie didn't indulge in drugs.
'Bunting is such a bastard,' Carter said, flexing his arms, opening and closing his fists. 'He's another Janza, for crissake. A little smoother, maybe. Doesn't pick his nose or his ass. But another Janza, all right.'
Archie didn't say anything and Carter brooded, resting his chin in his hands.
