I was still visiting Dr. Wasser every week, and those fifty minutes were when I spent the most time thinking about Todd’s disappearance—and, yes, as far as Dr. Wasser knew, I still believed that Todd was missing instead of dead. Each time my mom picked me up she’d ask if I still thought the sessions were helpful, and I’d say no, not really (even though they were, sort of), and she’d ask me to stick it out for another week or two. I strongly suspected that she was waiting until she could meet Tina to release me from psychological analysis.
On the days where it occurred to me that I hadn’t thought about Todd much, I’d suddenly feel like an absolute piece of crap, like I’d given up on him. But I hadn’t. I still had every intention of bringing Mr. Martin to justice. Yet I had a lot of other stuff going on, too. Tina was a straight-A student, and though I’d always been a pretty good student, she made me want to do better.
I continued to do odd jobs around the neighborhood whenever I could. Dad had changed the combination of his safe, foiling my effort to sneak the occasional twenty-dollar bill in there, but the money I earned went into two piles. Half was for repaying the money I stole. (I hadn’t decided yet if I would confess, or if I’d just leave a stack of bills on his desk and pretend that I had no idea how it got there; sort of a Stolen Cash Reimbursement Santa Claus.) The other half was for dates with Tina, when we could actually start dating like a real couple.
I was getting a lot of exercise, and thus losing…a little weight, I guess? Not much. Chubbiness seemed to be my body’s natural state. Although I tended to be ravenously hungry when I got home, and I didn’t reach for a head of lettuce, so that might have had something to do with it.
“What are you doing for Halloween?” Tina asked, as we spoke on the phone one evening.
“I don’t know.” Until the sixth grade, trick-or-treating was the entire purpose of this holiday. Costumes tended to just be the kind that came in a box, with the cheap plastic mask that covered your face but not the rest of your head. If you were Spider-Man, the suit was not Spider-Man’s costume—it just had a picture of Spider-Man on the chest. I didn’t care. It was usually, oh, maybe fifteen degrees outside, so a Halloween costume had to keep you warm for a couple of hours of candy gathering. It was often worn over a snowsuit. Nobody was doing elaborate makeup, because your face would freeze off if it wasn’t covered.
I’d retired from trick-or-treating upon entering junior high, even though I didn’t really want to. I didn’t worry too much about society’s expectations, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to be the only Fairbanks teenager doing it. (I’ve also just admitted that upon becoming a teenager I stopped trying to protect myself from the cold weather, so, yes, I guess I was fully susceptible to being a dumbass to fit in with my peers.)
“What about a Halloween party?” Tina asked.
“Who’s having one?” Despite wearing only a jeans jacket in freezing weather, I wasn’t cool enough to get invited to Halloween parties.
“You.”
“Me?”
“What if you had a costume party, but only invited me and my dad? If anybody was spying on us, they wouldn’t know who I was. I could finally see your house and we’d get our parents off our backs.” She’d been whispering, but now she raised her voice. “My dad is starting to think that I’m making you up. Like I’m just talking to myself on the phone. At this very moment, making up an entire imaginary conversation just for his benefit.”
“Did your dad just walk in the room?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah. He’s staring right at me.”
“I think it’s a great idea. Maybe we shouldn’t call it a Halloween party, it’s kind of sad if we’re having a party that’s just us and our parents. We’ll call it a Halloween gathering.”
“Let’s do it.”
Over dinner, I shared this with my parents, both of whom loved the idea. That night, while I was brushing my teeth, my mom stood in the bathroom doorway and told me that if I wanted to stop seeing Dr. Wasser, that was fine.
Halloween was still more than three weeks away. Plenty of time to plan a very small party. Some snacks, some decorations, and whatever horror movie was playing on TV that night, if any. (Our channels consisted of CBS on Channel 11 and PBS on Channel 9, while Channel 2 was shared by both NBC and ABC. So horror movies on Halloween night weren’t a guarantee.)
Quite honestly, the whole “Tina cannot be seen with me for fear that she might become a pawn in my standoff against Mr. Martin” was starting to feel kind of silly. Could she really only come over if she was in a Halloween costume? It was getting extremely cold out. Where would Mr. Martin and his friend even be hiding to watch us? Wouldn’t he be worried that I’d go straight to the authorities if I caught him spying?
Maybe all of these precautions were ridiculous.
But maybe they weren’t. I didn’t know how Mr. Martin’s mind worked. Though I assumed that he was still going to his job, an insane child killer like him might indeed be watching me as often as he could. Maybe his friend was driving by my house every once in a while.
I had to stay vigilant, even if it might be a waste of time.
This wouldn’t last forever. Eventually I’d get him.
October always brought a few days of snowfall that melted away, but by Halloween the snow was there to stay for the rest of the winter and beyond. Each day we lost six or seven minutes of daylight, down to less
