The Guardians

Randy steps out of the dark. The words that come out of his mouth aren't his, but the boy's.

'Look at you, Mr. Shaky,' he says. 'But an old Guardian could never let down a damsel in distress, could he?'

My arms rise in front of me. A reflex. The limbs seeking counterbalance against faling backwards. It makes me feel like the Frankenstein monster from the after-school movies of my youth.

But Randy's attack doesn't come. He stands ten feet from where I stand over Tracey. Arms at his sides. His face falsely animated, as if he's trying to appear engaged by an anecdote he'd long stopped listening to.

A choking at the back of my throat, and I smel the smoke. Folowed by the first tendrils of grey reaching down the stairs from the kitchen.

'We have to get out of here, Randy.'

'I'd like you to stay.'

'There's a fire'

'I know. I started it.'

'Jesus Christ.'

'Stay where you are,' he says, though I'm not moving.

'You took her.'

'You couldn't understand.'

'Try me.'

'It was apart.'

'Part of what?'

'I told you you couldn't understand.'

Through the veils of smoke, Randy's freckles appear enlarged. Spreading over his face like a hundred darkening bruises.

'How did she end up down here?'

'I wasn't fuly committed.'

'Committed to what?'

'The part.'

'What the fuck are you talking about?'

'It was a performance. For once I had an audience that was realy watching. And you know what I did? I messed it up. Mailed it in.'

'Are you saying you were acting?'

'It's al I've ever wanted to do. And the boy knew that. The house knew it. And it asked me to show everything I had. To do one remarkable thing once in my life.'

'To kil her.'

'But I didn't. There was too much of me getting in the way of the character. Too much interference.'

'Who did you think you were playing?'

'The lead.'

'Roy.'

'Who else?'

I've had rooms spin on me before. Boozy carousels or sickbed see-saws. But what's happening now is of a different order altogether. The celar spinning, along with the house, the earth loosed from its axis and wobbling off into space.

'When did it start?' I manage.

'Sometime after Ben's funeral, I guess. That's when I heard his voice. First time in twenty-four years. Then it got so loud it was al I could hear.'

'That night. You went back to Jake's after we left?'

'It was closed, so I waited. And when she came out I offered her a joint. I'm an old friend of her dad's. She said sure.'

'She trusted you.'

'I'm fun, remember?'

'So you decided to have a party.'

'I asked her if kids stil went to the old Thurman place. She couldn't believe I knew about it, that this freckly, balding guy used to get up to no good in here the same way she and her friends did. So she figured it couldn't hurt to smoke another joint for shits and giggles before heading home.'

'Except you didn't smoke another joint.'