Харлан Кобен - Found

I swallowed. “Is that how you felt, Troy?”

“What?” He put his hand against his chest. “No. Look, I’m telling you the reality. Truth is, I don’t need it. I’m a point guard. My game is more finesse. But I get it. Don’t you?”

“No,” I said. “I wouldn’t cheat.”

“Really? I’ve seen how much you love basketball. Suppose everyone else was taking a pill that made them bigger and stronger and you got left behind. You got cut from the team. You weren’t any good. And the only reason is, they were taking this pill and you weren’t. Are you saying you would never, ever take it? That you’d just settle for getting cut and watching others take your spot?”

I shifted in the seat. “That’s not the reality.”

“But that’s how some guys start to see it,” Troy said. “You’re a special talent. You don’t have to worry about that. Or maybe, look, maybe I’m trying to justify what a friend did. I don’t know.”

I tried to let all of this sink in. According to Troy, Randy Schultz dealt steroids. Was that true? How could I check on that?

Uncle Myron might know.

I thought now to the tense scene I’d witnessed a week ago at Schultz’s gym. What was going on between Uncle Myron and Randy? What help did he and his dad want from him that, as a lawyer, Myron couldn’t share with me?

“There’s something else,” Troy said.

I waited.

“I didn’t think much of it before all this happened and even after, I mean, whatever I was saying, Buck is still my best friend. I wouldn’t believe...”

“Wouldn’t believe what?”

“Do you know the shed behind the town circle?”

Kasselton had a town circle. On one side of it was the high school. On the other was a bunch of municipal buildings and the YMCA. “No, not really.”

“It’s behind town hall, near the Y.”

“Okay.”

“Anyway, a few days before they ran the tests, I was supposed to meet Buck at the circle. We were going to take a couple of laps.”

The circle was exactly half a mile in circumference. It was a popular jogging spot.

“I got there early,” Troy said, “and I spotted something weird.”

“What?”

“I saw Randy and Buck going into that shed.”

I was getting confused. “The one behind town hall?”

“Right.”

“What kind of shed is this?”

“Well, that’s just it. I looked it up. The property is owned by Schultz’s gym.”

“So it’s theirs?”

“I guess. So I followed them to it. When they saw me, they freaked out.”

“Freaked out how?”

“They pulled down the shades and came out and acted like it was nothing. But I saw something.”

“What?”

Troy took his time. Then at last he said, “Test tubes.”

I tried to make that compute. It wouldn’t. “Did you ask Buck about them?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I figured... well, I figured that they had something to do with the steroids. You know. Like it was his supply hut or something.”

“You don’t think that anymore?”

“I don’t know. But that was the last time Buck and I talked. Nothing was ever the same. Now he’s gone, and I got thrown off the team. So now I’m thinking about what you said. I’m thinking about that shed. And I’m thinking there’s some secret in there that could give us all our answers.”

Troy and I agreed to meet up that night at the town circle and check out the shed under the cover of darkness. I’d hoped to talk to Ema during lunch because I really needed her take on Luther and my father, not to mention what Troy had told me about Buck and his brother, but Ema had to meet with Mrs. Cannon, her math teacher, during lunch for extra help. She had a big test coming up.

Schoolwork waits for no teenager. Schoolwork doesn’t care about your problems.

Around 2:00 P.M., I got a text from Spoon: Found something huge. When can you get here?

Ema and Rachel had been copied too. I texted back that I would go right after practice. Ema wrote that she had some homework and would meet me there. Rachel said that she had play tryouts — she was going for the role of Éponine in the school’s production of Les Miz — so she wouldn’t be able to make it, but hoped someone could fill her in later.

Our team.

I thought about the four of us and wanted to shake my head. What chance did we have against guys like Luther? On the one hand, none. On the other hand, we had done pretty darn well so far.

As soon as practice was over, I showered, changed, and hurried to the hospital. The lady behind the desk had gotten to know me by now. She handed me a pass with a minimum of fanfare. I took the elevator up to his floor.

When I walked past the hospital lounge for visiting family members, I spotted Mrs. Spindel, Spoon’s mother, sitting in the corner. She stared out the window. Her eyes looked like shattered marbles. I stopped and swallowed. We had not spoken since my first visit after Spoon had been shot. She told me in no uncertain terms that she blamed me:

Oh, I know it’s your fault...

As though sensing my presence, Mrs. Spindel turned toward where I was standing. For a moment she just looked at me. I wasn’t sure what to do. Waving hello seemed foolish. I prepared for another dose of her deserved wrath. But she surprised me this time.

“Thank you, Mickey.”

“For what?” I asked.

“For being here. For being his friend.”

I shook my head. Her earlier anger had stung, but somehow this hurt more. I was Spoon’s friend? If so, some friend. “How is he?” I asked.

“No change.”

I wanted to say something encouraging, but that felt like the exact wrong thing to do. I nodded and waited.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was being too hard on you. I hope you understand...”

“You were right,” I said.

“No, Mickey, I wasn’t. It wasn’t your fault. I can see how much you care about him — and how much he cares about you. That’s rare and special. It’s just that since you’ve come to town...”

Her words faded away. She didn’t have to finish the thought. I got it. I had wanted to move back to the United States. I wanted to make roots in a town like Kasselton. I wanted to be in a real high school and play on a real team, and while I loved my life of travel with my parents, I had craved some normalcy.

So my loving parents had abided my wishes.

Now my father was dead. My mother was a drug addict. And my new friend was lying in a hospital bed, unable to move his legs.

I thought about what Bat Lady said, about how Spoon was meant for great things. I wanted to tell this woman about that, but I knew how stupid it would sound. I didn’t get Bat Lady or Elizabeth Sobek or whatever she was called. I always expected my old mentor to be kinder or sweeter or someone I could relate to. Bat Lady was none of those things. I always felt more puzzled after I left her than before. Sometimes I thought that she had special powers, but then something would happen that would bring me crashing back to reality.

There was no destiny here. No already-determined winner. We could indeed win. And we could indeed die.

Still, Bat Lady had told me Spoon was destined for greatness. She had told me that my father was still alive.

Did she know something?

Did she have some special powers? Or was she just a crazy do-gooder who saved some and lost others?

Mrs. Spindel turned back toward the window, dismissing me, I guess, or giving me permission to visit her son now. I stood there another second and felt a hand on my back. I turned. It was Ema.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey.”

We started down the corridor and opened the door to Spoon’s room. Two doctors walked out with grim expressions. It was another dose of reality.