The Tower

An eight-by-ten picture of Allander lay on the desktop. The music box covered part of it, but Allander's brown eyes leered up at Jade as if tracing the lines of his face. They were alive, his eyes. Even here, even now.

Jade ran his hands over his face and through his hair. The pain was not subsiding. He couldn't remember it ever lasting this long. He closed his eyes tightly, pressing his thumb and finger to the top of his nose.

The circus tent on top of the little music box spun to him in the darkness. Sounds echoed in his head.

The bang of a screen door as the thirteen-year-old boy ran from the house. A crying mother collapsing against the door frame.

He's going. He's going to see Mr. Hollow.

He ran down the street.

The retarded boy finally reached Mr. Hollow and he stepped over the neat circle of rocks to see him, reaching his hand to touch the golden hay sticking out from under the loose clothes. He was mesmerized by the scarecrow-so much so that he even forgot about the boys from whom he was fleeing. Mr. Hollow would protect him from anything, he thought. His mouth hung open as he paid homage to the great scarecrow. The pounding of footsteps stirred him from his trance, and he turned to face the four boys who circled him menacingly.

The thirteen-year-old boy sprinted down the road holding on to his cap so it wouldn't fall off. He turned off the road into a large field of waving foxtails and cursed as he saw the trampled trail leading through the high weeds. Running full speed, he disappeared into them.

Hurwitz, Gregg

The Tower (1999)

Eenie meenie minie moe

In the crack of a gunshot, he was back above himself, sprinting through the waving field of foxtails. He ran with quick, expert steps, leaping over furrows, weaving past dirt mounds and gopher holes. His arms pumped furiously at his sides, and the sun fell over his shoulders.

Catch a retard by the toe

He could barely make out the chanting of the children, but as his vision cut ahead and he saw his younger brother still holding dumbly on to the straw that he probably thought was a hand protruding from Mr. Hollow's sleeve…

Make him holler blow by blow

… the sound rose and his brother turned, remembering again the boys who had been chasing him, and terror crept back into his face. He heard him yelling, "Jade! Jade!," over and over as the boys circled him…

Hurwitz, Gregg

The Tower (1999)

Eenie meenie minie moe

… and closed in, and Jade heard their voices now and remembered the rhyming lyrics that his brother would recite in his slurred voice as he stumbled home after school, crying, and they were his call to duty, his incitement to fists and swings. Jade ran faster through the high weeds when he heard his name shrieked; a foxtail caught him across the left cheek, cutting deeply, but he didn't notice, he just ran faster; but the four had closed in and one stepped firmly over his brother's foot…

Hurwitz, Gregg

The Tower (1999) by the toe

… and his fist reared back to strike above the loosely blubbering lower lip.

The clock struck the hour, breaking Jade from his vision. It tolled gloomily, filling the house. Jade slid the photograph of Allander from under the music box and lifted it to his eyes.

In the living room, the phone rang.

Chapter 46

" I enjoyed your little ruse earlier this evening. I can't believe they actually pay you for paltry efforts such as that. So obvious. Plus, Mother hates Orson Welles. Wouldn't be caught dead at one of his films. So to speak."

Jade's entire body tightened when he heard the purring voice. His shoulders and neck tensed, his chest flexed, his stomach grew taut.

The voice sounded like two pieces of silk rubbing together. It was low, smooth, unrushed. Jade felt a tingling in his stomach as the voice calmly continued, the voice from the audiotapes and the videos, the voice he had heard rise from the written transcripts as if they were so many burning bushes. He sat down on the couch, slowing his descent by leaning on the cushion with one arm.

"I'm glad to see I caught you speechless. I've heard that's quite a feat. Are you enjoying having your miserable life falled with me? Pictures? Tapes? Files? You're consumed with me, Marlow. I've seen how you work. With my own eyes, in fact. I'd almost consider it flattering if you weren't such an amateur." Allander chuckled. "I must say, I find the title 'Tracker' a bit overblown. You're more like an errant chaser."

"I'm getting to you."

"Yes, you're just waiting at home to… what? Gather your strength?"

Jade strained to identify any background noises, but the line was quiet. He picked up the map of Woodside from the floor and glanced over it. "Something like that."

Another chuckle. "Yes, yes, I see."

Jade was desperately thinking of how to get a rise out of him, some way to make him angry so he'd slip up. Deny his individuality, he decided. "You think you're smarter than the rest, but you work in patterns. You all do."