Rocking the Board: Excessive rocking of the board by rising up on the toes to get the board moving and create more spring merely increases the diver’s chance of losing balance.
I CUT the lights and engine when we approach Iris’s house, letting Bumblebee roll down the gravel driveway until I have to apply the squeaking brakes. There aren’t many lights on this road and her broad, imposing house emerges like a mountain in the pitch darkness.
“Are you sure about this?” Chip asks. “It’s past midnight.”
“Trust me. She needs to come with us. I know what I’m doing.” I get out of my truck and shut the door as quietly as possible, shifting my eyes to the house. “But listen, if Iris’s dad walks out here with a shotgun, we might want to haul ass.”
“Are you for real?”
I nod and pick some gravel from the driveway, weighing the stones in my hand against the insanity of my actions. If I pick the wrong window, and her dad comes out here and finds me flinging rocks, I’ll probably never see Iris again.
“Which one is it?” Chip asks.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
He gives me his you’ve-got-to-be-shitting-me face. “How do you know she’s even home? I’m not down with getting shot just because you’re being an impulsive jerk-off.”
“We’re here now, so let’s do this. I’m tired of questioning and explaining everything, to her, to you, to GP. I want the truth out in the open.”
I slink up to the house thinking about which room I’d give my daughter if I were an overprotective dad. I wave for Chip to follow and we move along the side yard to the back, dead leaves crunching beneath our feet.
“Do those curtains look purple to you?”
“They look dark,” Chip says. “Could be purple. Could be old-man navy blue. Fuck if I know. Just don’t get me shot, bro.”
We keep moving farther around the house until we’re almost all the way around. And there, on the far corner, is a room with Christmas lights strung around the window.
“I bet that’s it.” I hold my breath and throw the first rock, hitting the house with a dull thud.
“You’re a lousy shot,” Chip says. “Here, let me.” He takes the smallest rock from my hand and hauls off, hitting the glass with a sharp peck. “Want me to do another one?”
“No, I got it.” I pull my arm back and throw, hitting the window this time.
I elbow Chip when the curtains part and Iris appears. She points to the front of the house and we retrace our steps. Three-quarters of the way around we hear a screen door creak. I stop moving and throw my arm in front of Chip, just in case her dad heard us and is coming out first. Shotgun at the ready.
Chip clenches the back of my jacket in his hand. I don’t need to see his face to know he’s scared. Hell, so am I. Her dad’s warning to stay away was clear as day. But the figure coming around the corner is wispy, and moving on light feet.
“Are you out of your minds?” Iris whisper-yells. She throws a quick glance at the house.
“Can you come with us to my grandfather’s house?”
“I can’t leave. My dad flipped out after he picked me up from the Blue Belle and double-grounded me, which was bad enough. But then Curtis Jacobs and your grandfather showed up and told him they’re trying to help you sort some stuff out about your parents and that my dad should keep me out of it. It sounded like there was way more to the story about my mom than I ever imagined. I overheard my dad telling them he thinks Dr. Maddox caused my mom’s car accident. I mean, intentionally caused it.”
A pang of pure horror stabs my chest. And then, like a fucking dog that’s been conditioned to trust, I slip into sad disbelief. “That’s insane. Phil Maddox isn’t who I thought he was, not by a long shot, but murder? Jeezus, Iris. Please, just come with us.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Iris says. “It’s just my family’s involvement with Dr. Maddox is complicated. I’m not even sure I understand it. My dad made it sound like he was obsessed with my mom. Not in a sexual way, but as his patient. He wanted to include her in some paper he was writing, and she refused.”
“Because she was gifted?” I ask.
Iris nods.
“All the more reason for you to come. We can find out the whole truth together.” I offer her my hand in the darkness, but she hesitates. Sneaking off with me in the middle of the night is guaranteed to land her in a heap of trouble. Infinitely grounded.
She stares at her house; conflicted by the truths she’s already heard.
I inch closer, looking into her midnight-blue eyes. “Please, Iris.”
She flicks a glance at Chip, standing a few feet away.
“Don’t look at me,” he says. “I’m out here ready to take a bullet for the guy. This goes way beyond the no matter what of our original bet, by the way, Theo.”
Chip’s loyalty gives me an idea that puts me short of begging. “We’re partners in this Iris, remember? Big Mack and French Fry. I need you beside me on this.”
Iris takes me by the arms and spins me a quarter turn so she can see me better in the light from the porch. “You’re afraid.”
“I am,” I tell her. “But I have to do this anyway.”
Iris throws a quick glance at her house and sighs. “Okay. I’ll go. I gave you my word.” She spins me toward my truck. “Please don’t make me regret this.”