Bec3: It Ain't Over Til It's Over
Chapter 21: Just You Wait, Lance Jenkins!

Copyright© 2009 by BarBar

I crash into a gate. It bangs open. I glance over my shoulder – nothing!

Frantic! I run through the night.

Branches slap at my face – grasp at my ankles.

The same gate rattles. Footsteps thud behind me.

I gasp for air – run harder.

Blocked! A fence – six feet high – more.

Trapped! I look around – desperate.

Footsteps approach behind me – they stop.

Laughter – deep and coarse – shivers out of the dark.

I throw myself at the fence – climb. I scrabble to the top. I glance back.

He steps out into the moonlight. I freeze.

Lance Jenkins!

He smiles.

My heart thumps – once.

A single percussive beat in an otherwise silent symphony.

He steps forward.

I panic – push away from him.

I slide over the top of the fence – anything to get away.

I drop. I fall.

It’s a long way down – a cliff. Jagged rocks lurk far below.

I fall – and fall – and fall.

Naturally, I scream.

I scream – and scream – and scream.


I sat up – still screaming.

It took a moment to register the change.

I was on the sofa – our sofa.

I was in the living room – our living room.

There were others sitting around the room: Dan, Tara, Angie, Sam and Pearl.

They were all staring at me – startled by my sudden scream.

Embarrassed, I cut off the sound in mid-scream.

My mouth hung open. I gasped for breath. My heart thudded frantically in my chest.

I hiccupped and blushed.

They all stared – kept staring – at me.

Angie pushed herself off Pearl’s lap and came over to me.

“You went to sleep. Then you screamed. Did you have a bad dream?”

I was still trying to collect my scattered wits. My heart was still racing. I was still gasping for breath and my throat felt raw from screaming.

I gulped and nodded.

Angie climbed up onto the sofa and stood beside me with her feet on the seat. Then she pulled my head into her chest and rubbed my back.

“When I have a bad dream,” said Angie, “Mummy rubs my back like this. It makes me feel better. Do you feel better?”

I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a little squeeze. I buried my face against her chest – the material of her nightie felt warm and soft against my cheek.

“It’s not always Mummy,” said Angie. “Dan does it too. And you. I always feel better. Dan says a good hug chases away bad dreams.”

I smiled into Angie’s chest. Angie’s not the only one he’s said that to.

“I say it because it’s true,” said Dan. His voice sounded a bit strange.

I pulled my head part of the way out of Angie’s embrace. I peered around Angie’s arms and across the room to where Dan leaned back in Dad’s chair. He was wearing a pair of Dad’s long flannel pyjamas and Dad’s English-style dressing-gown. His voice sounded funny because he had a brightly colored bubble-pipe clenched between his teeth.

Tara saw me looking and rolled her eyes. “Dan thinks he’s turned into `Enry `Iggins. He keeps going on about the rain in Spain.”

“That’s H-H-Henry H-H-Higgins to you, my dear,” said Dan in his posh English accent.

He sucked on the end of the plastic pipe and pretended to puff smoke into the air.

“And, my dear fellows, it is important to know such things. Particularly if one were to visit the plains in Spain. Don’t you think?”

A little giggle ran through me at his silly impersonation.

I hoped Dan didn’t suddenly burst into song. My life was weird enough without it turning into a musical. Fortunately Dan’s comment did not cause a bunch of strangely dressed people to pour through every available door and burst into endless musical repetitions about the meteorological conditions of the Spanish flat lands.

I took a moment to silently thank the chorus line for their absence.

Angie let go of me and bounced down off the sofa. Another hand picked up the task of rubbing my back. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Sam sitting behind me. He had a cushion on his lap which still bore the dent from where my head had been while I slept. I gave him a little “thank you” type of smile. Then I twisted around and relaxed back into the sofa, sitting next to him.

“Speaking, as we were, of hugs that chase away bad dreams,” said Dan in his Henry Higgins accent. “It’s time for young Miss Angela to collect a hug from each of us and then head off to bed. Tally ho!”

Dan waved the bubble pipe at Angie and pointed it towards her bedroom. Then he stuck it back in the corner of his mouth and went back to sucking it – the bubble pipe, I mean, not Angie’s bedroom.

“I’ll take her,” said Tara, getting up off the floor from where she’d been sitting. “Come on, Ange. Hugs all around!”

“By George, she’s got it,” said Dan, without taking the pipe out of his mouth.

Angie made her way around the room, getting hugs from everybody. That gave me a chance to look at Pearl. I couldn’t remember her arriving so she must have come in while I was sleeping. She was wearing a pair of long silk pyjamas that were silvery with little gold flowers. Over the top of that, she was wearing a long black silk robe with matching gold flowers. She looked amazing – elegant and dignified in a mature sort of way. The contrast between her and the way Tara’s friends had looked last night was like chalk and cheese.

The rest of us were in more ordinary sort of sleepwear – except for Dan, I guess.

Pearl and Dan had started talking quietly so I turned to Sam.

“Hey!”

My voice came out in a whisper, but it was loud enough for Sam to hear.

“I’m sorry I went to sleep all over you. I feel kinda weird about that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Sam. “I didn’t mind. I’m sorry you had a nightmare.”

“It wasn’t really a nightmare. It was more like one of those dreams I have when my brain wants to tell me something important. Sometimes the message comes through loud and clear. Other times the dream can be kind of obscure. I think this one had layers.”

I frowned.

“At least, I hope it had layers. I’m not too impressed with the surface meaning. It was mostly about Lance Jenkins, the boy I kissed yesterday. He’s my first ever proper boyfriend but I spent most of the dream trying to get away from him. I don’t like the idea that my brain is telling me to avoid Lance. I shall have to give my brain a severe talking to. I don’t want it meddling in my social life like this.”

I frowned again.

“But anyway, the dream finished with me falling. That’s why I screamed.”

“I hate it when I dream about falling,” said Sam. “I feel like I have to wake up before I hit the ground or I’ll die in my sleep and never wake up. But it’s like my eyes get glued shut and I can’t open them.”

“Yeah!” I said.

Sam leaned his head against my shoulder and we shared some friendly silence for a while.

After a bit, Tara came back and told us that Angie had gone to sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Tara had closed all the doors between Angie and us so we should be able to play on the Dance Mat without disturbing Angie.

It was time for the grudge match or whatever you want to call it between Dan and Sam. They took their places and started the game while the rest of us watched. It was pretty intense. Both of the boys can get pretty competitive. No way was Dan going easy because he was twice the age of Sam. In fact, I think Sam had the advantage because he was lighter and more agile. Despite all that, they weren’t totally serious all the time. They both kept making jokes and stuff – except maybe sometimes the jokes were designed to put the other guy off by making him laugh.

About halfway through, I suddenly sat up straight and muttered “Oh drat!” under my breath. Then I quietly stood up and left the room. I had something to do and I’d completely forgotten it. My stupid brain is usually so good at remembering things and it had let me down.

I went into the kitchen and picked up the phone. I had to look up the number for the DiMartino house. I guess that means I hadn’t actually called their house before.

A young voice answered with a “Hello!” I figured it was one of the younger brothers – either Frederick or Benjamin but I couldn’t tell which one.

“Hello! This is Bec Freeman. Can I please speak to your father?”

“Oh, sure! I’ll get him. Hold on.”

The phone clunked and I heard him calling in the background. I bit my lip. I probably should have thought about this more before I made the phone call. I had no idea what I was going to say. My intestines started to turn themselves inside out as I thought about what I was about to do.

A moment later, the phone rattled again and a deep voice spoke.

“DiMartino speaking. How can I help you?”

“Hello, sir. It’s Bec Freeman. I wanted to speak to you. Um!”

“Yes?”

“Um! I wanted to say I was looking forward to seeing you and your family at the Davidsons’ place tomorrow.”

“Is that so? I’m afraid we may not be attending. After last night, it simply doesn’t seem appropriate.”

“That’s just it, sir. That’s why I called. I think it’s important for you and your family to be there. Especially after last night.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, sir. The thing is, Melissa and Liz and I are good friends – best friends. We’re going to keep being best friends. We’re going to want to keep seeing each other. We’re going to want to keep visiting each other. And for that to work, you and Mrs DiMartino need to know our parents and our parents need to know you.”

“That doesn’t necessarily follow. I can’t say that I know the parents of all of Laura’s friends.”

I bit my lip. I wanted to say that maybe he should, but I knew I couldn’t say that. I was still feeling pretty nervous but now that I was talking, I felt a bit better.

“I’m not talking about Laura. I’m talking about Melissa. And I’m not talking about Laura’s friends. I’m talking about Liz and me. We kind of have our own rules about stuff like this. And one of those rules is that our parents have to meet up.”

“That’s all very well but I suspect after last night, your father may not want to socialize with me. Did he ask you to make this call?”

“No, he didn’t. But I know my dad pretty well. I know that he would be pleased to see you there tomorrow.”

“Why is that?”

“It’s that thing that men do. I see it all the time when my brother plays football. They play really hard against each other and even sometimes get into fights or whatever. Then when the game is over, they get together and have a party. They shake hands and drink beer together and laugh about what happened during the game and slap each other on the back.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Except, of course, that what they drink couldn’t possibly be beer because they’re all under age.”

“Of course,” said Mr DiMartino with a really dry voice.

“That’s what you and my dad need to do. You and he had a kind of fight, so now you need to shake hands and drink beer together and tell stories and slap each other on the back. And tomorrow is perfect because it will be at the Davidsons’ place and that’s like, um...”

“Neutral territory?”

“Yeah! The Davidsons’ place is neutral territory so you’ll both be kind of equal.”

There was a bit of silence. All I could hear was the faint buzzing of the phone line and what sounded like a TV program playing softly in the background.

I nearly spoke again but I decided to stay quiet and let him think. This was so much harder to do over the phone. I really needed to see his face so I could know what he was thinking. Talking over the phone was totally guesswork.

“Young lady, you continue to surprise me,” said Mr DiMartino. “I didn’t expect this at all. Very well! My family and I shall attend tomorrow. I look forward to shaking hands with your father and burying the hatchet – so to speak. Naturally, Laura won’t be attending – all of her privileges are currently revoked.”

“Oh!” I hadn’t thought of that. “Um! That’s obviously completely up to you, sir. But I suspect Laura wouldn’t consider being forced to hang out with us much of a privilege. As you might have guessed from last night, she doesn’t like us very much.”

I think I actually heard a faint chuckle from Mr DiMartino.

“I should tell you that Tara will be there,” I continued. “Even though she’s in trouble, she’s still part of the family and she’s expected to be present at family events. She’ll probably be told to do a lot of fetching and carrying and washing dishes and stuff like that, though.”

“Hmm! I shall think further on that. Perhaps Laura could be made responsible for her two brothers – keeping them entertained and so forth. That’s a task Laura usually prefers to avoid.”

Again, I heard a faint sound which I’m sure was Mr DiMartino chuckling.

“Very well, Miss Freeman. Was there anything else you wish to discuss?”

“No, that was it. Thank you, sir. I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.”

He said, “Good bye!” and ended the call.

I put the phone back on the wall and heaved a big sigh. That had gone about as well as it could have so I was pleased – and a bit relieved.

I slid back into the living room and reclaimed my place on the couch. I was in time to see the end of the game. The scores were very close but Sam ended up winning. Dan made us all laugh because he knelt in front of Sam and bowed down before him.

Sam bowed and spread his arms and did his best Elvis impersonation. “Thank you! Thank you very much!”

The two of them grabbed glasses of water from the kitchen and then came back and flopped into the chairs.

“So what should we do now?” asked Tara.

I scratched my head. To be honest, I’ve never actually been involved with a proper girly type sleepover party. I mean, sure, I’ve slept over at Liz’s place a bunch of times and she’s slept over at my place just as often but they don’t really count. My entire experience of party type sleepovers came from hiding in my room and listening to Tara’s friends carry on.

I guess I’ve watched my share of Disney movies. Teen sleepovers in the movies often seem to involve slow motion pillow fights amongst curtains of slowly falling feathers. The other thing I remember from movie sleepovers is that the girls often seem to end up with their faces caked with thick layers of facial cream and with slices of fruit over their eyes while someone paints their toenails.

“I brought along my makeup kit,” said Pearl. “I figured it might be fun to paint each other’s nails.”

Apparently Pearl watched the same movies I did.

Dan put on the tape of My Fair Lady and we let it play in the background while Sam painted my toenails and Pearl did Tara’s. Dan puffed on his pipe and declared that he would supervise the operation. We chatted about stuff and sang along with the songs from the movie and munched on snacks for a while.

Then I started yawning and that set off Sam, and Dan told us to go to bed. I thought about checking up on Mum and making sure she was okay down in her studio but Dan said he would do it. He said he’d checked on Mum while I’d been sleeping and she’d been painting furiously.


In my bedroom the two of us quickly got ready for bed. Sam asked if we could leave the door open a bit so there would be some light but I offered to do better. I went and grabbed the spare night light we keep for Angie and plugged it in beside my desk.

I looked at the thin mattress on the floor and decided to take pity on Sam.

“Hey, you can sleep in here with me if you want. You’ll probably be more comfortable than on the floor.”

Sam looked at me for a moment and then nodded. “Thanks!”

I shifted back against the wall and he crawled in beside me. We ended up lying on our sides, facing each other. Because we were both a bit curled up, our knees were touching and our faces were about 6 inches apart but there was more of a gap between the rest of our bodies.

Once he was in, I reached over and switched off the main light.

I lay on my pillow and looked over at Sam in the soft light of the little night light.

“Hey!” I whispered. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Are you okay about what happened today?”

“What?”

“Are you okay about what happened in Mum’s studio – with Tara being tied up and you posing like you were hitting her and everything?”

Sam screwed his face up in a little facial version of a shrug and then relaxed.

“You’re forgetting Mama Ally is a photographer,” whispered Sam. “I’ve been posing in front of a camera all of my life. Some of the time she gets me to do normal stuff but I’ve done so many weird things – today was like, nothing.”

 
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