Duncan - Ransom

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for Robin Dale

THE KIDNAPPING TOOK PLACE on a Thursday.

If it had been Friday, Jesse said afterward, I wouldnt have taken the bus at all. I would have stayed in the library and read until Mother picked me up after her committee meeting.

There were a lot of ifs.

If my car had not been in the garage, said Glenn.

And Marianne Paget thought: If I had taken that ride with Rod when he offered it to me, when he drove all the way over to the high school just to pick me up.

But, she had not. She had climbed onto the bus with the others, holding her slim shoulders defiantly straight beneath the blue suede jacket.

I have hurt him, she thought, and the knowledge was strangely satisfying. I have hurt him, and by hurting him, I have shown Mother and all of them.

When she took her seat, she leaned forward and looked out the window to where Rod was standing beside his car, staring in a defeated way at the door she had just entered.

What can she see in him? Marianne asked herself bitterly. He is so dull, and his hair is goingit wont be long now before he is completely bald. Imagine Mother having a bald husband! How can she like himhow can she even stand himafter living with Daddy?

The man by the car was still standing there, still watching the bus door as though half hoping that she might change her mind and get off again.

You would think he would begin to realize, thought Marianne, but no, he will go home and tell Mother, and he will be just as hurt and surprised as though it were the first time. And Mother will say, Give it time, dear. Its just a phase. She hasnt adjusted yet. It will be all right in time. But it will be one more thing, one more wedge between the two of them. And it will not be long before they will have to know that time will make no difference. Time will not change a thing.

The bus filled quickly. From her seat near the back, Jesse French watched the other students pouring in, laughing, shoving, tossing their books about. They crowded into the double seats, and Jesse, sitting alone, felt the empty space beside her becoming more and more obvious as it was ignored by first one person and then another.

There was a moment when she thought Glenn Kirtland was going to sit there. He seemed to hesitate for an instant, and then his eyes went ahead, and he moved forward and took the seat next to Marianne.

I should have known, Jesse thought, that he wouldnt sit hereand she let herself relax again, not certain whether the sudden caved-in feeling was relief or disappointment. If he had sat next to her, she would have had to talk to him, and what could one say to a boy like Glenn, the president of the student body and captain of the football team? Jesse, who could speak to adults with ease and graciousness, who could discuss art and history and politics with Frenchmen and Germans and Italians in their native tongues, found herself weak and tongue-tied at the idea of talking school and sports with Glenn Kirtland.

If he werent so popular, she thoughtbut, of course, that was only an excuse, for popular people were popular because they were easy to talk to. There was Marianne now, chattering away to him already, turning in her seat to face him, letting her soft blond hair fall forward across her cheek. But then, Marianne was popular, too. She was pretty and pert and bubbly and had undoubtedly never had a moments self-consciousness in her life.

May I sit here?

Jesse glanced up and nodded, and Bruce Kirtland took the seat that his brother had not occupied. Bruce was only a freshman, a thin boy with glasses and a nervous, overeager, puppy-dog look. He sat down too quickly, and several of his books tumbled onto the floor.

Im sorry. Dammit, there goes another!

Here, let me hold those others. Youre going to lose them, too.

Jesse reached over and steadied the remaining two books, wondering, as she did so, how someone like Glenn could possibly have a brother as awkward as Bruce. At the same time she felt a wave of sympathy for this boy, who would have to live, always, in the shadow of Glenn.

Do you have them? she asked kindly as he bobbed up from the floor, his face flushed with exertion.

Yes, I think so. Im sorry.

Thats all right. She had her own books piled neatly on her lapmath, which she detested, and chemistry, and a French novel which she was reading for pleasure. Normally she would have opened it the moment she was settled, but now, because it was Bruce next to her and because he was so obviously embarrassed about his clumsiness, she felt duty-bound to make at least a few minutes of conversation.

Its really turning cold, she said. Yes, it is. Bruce leaned across her to gaze out the window. It looks kind of like snow, doesnt it? Its coming late this year. His voice was hopeful. If Glenn gets his car out of the shop this afternoon, we may be able to go up to Taos.

To ski? Jesse asked politely. That should be fun. Do you like skiing?

I like it fine, but I havent gone too many times. Glenns usually got a bunch of his friends going. Boy, hes goodmy brother! You ought to see him come down Snake Dance!

He sat back in his seat, and Jesse, nodding, realized that her sympathy had been misplaced. There was no jealousy here, only a glow of pride in his brothers accomplishments.

Glenn can even take jumps. You know the ski pro at Taos? He says Glenn is one of the best skiers who come up there. He paused and then added politely, Do you ski? and Jesse answered, I havent skied here in New Mexico. Weve been here only since summer.

Youll learn, Bruce told her consolingly. There are lots of beginners, and Jesse, who had been about to add the fact that the last time she had skied it had been in the Swiss Alps, left the words unspoken and smiled at him instead.

Im sure Ill like it, she said.

Dexter Barton was the last one to get on the bus. His sixth period was gym class, and it always made him late because he didnt like using the community showers. He hung around the gym, bouncing balls and putting away the exercise mats until the first rush was over, and then went into the dressing room just as most of the other guys were leaving. If he was lucky and the shower was empty, he used it; otherwise he yanked his clothes on as quickly as possible, trusting to the general rush and confusion of late dressing to cover the omission of bathing. By the time he was clothed and had put away his gym clothes, it was a matter of luck whether or not he was able to make the bus before it pulled out of the lot. Sometimes he didnt, and it meant hitchhiking, something he did not particularly mind when the weather was warm.