The Long Sleep by Caroline Crane

let go.”
    Falco reached across the table and put his
hand over mine. “How could you know? Guys like that can be very
charming.”
    “Psychopaths.”
    “I thought the newer term was sociopath,” he
said.
    “I just happen to like the word psychopath.
It sounds so—psycho. My mom’s a psychologist. I keep asking her how
they get that way. She doesn’t have any easy answers.”
    He smiled. “Does she have any un easy
answers?”
    I laughed. “My mom’s too careful for that.
She wouldn’t say anything she can’t prove.”
    As we left the cafeteria, he rested his hand
on my back. It was a comforting gesture and felt a lot better than
when Mr. Geyer did it. I wondered if Hank and I would ever be able
to touch one another. If he’d ever so much as wake up.
     

Chapter Eight
     
    Hank came up behind
me in the hospital—or was it at school? —and put his arms around
me. All the bad thoughts vanished from my mind as we stood hugging.
And kissing. I couldn’t taste him the way you usually can when you
kiss somebody. Maybe he had no taste because he’d been asleep so
long. I was about to ask him, when the dogs started
barking.
    That woke me. I didn’t want to wake because
it meant Hank was still in the hospital, still unconscious. Before
I had time to think about it, a shower of rain hit my window.
    Not rain. It was more like sleet. The first
time I heard it was back in October when sleet wasn’t so likely,
although sometimes you can get a winter storm as early as that. But
this was November, when you could have sleet, but I knew it wasn’t
that. It was pebbles.
    Evan had done it before. He did it the time
in October when he broke into our house. He’d made a point of
cutting a hole in the glass in the mudroom door so he could reach
in and turn the lock. He threw pebbles to make me go downstairs,
and I fell for it. I was such an idiot.
    I would put that in an article I planned to
write on how obsession isn’t love. I would put in all the times I’d
done something stupid, so other girls could learn from my
stupidity.
    Rule number whatever: Girls, THINK TWICE!
Don’t follow your first impulse and rush downstairs to see what’s
going on.
    I hadn’t actually rushed that October night.
I had tiptoed. But it got me where he wanted me, right by the
door.
    Stupid, stupid. As I lay there reliving the
whole thing, another shower hit the window. Did he really think I
was dumb enough to fall for it a second time?
    I turned cold all over just knowing he was
out there. Not in New Hampshire, but right outside my window. How
long had he been home? Was he back here to stay?
    I lay not moving, not even getting up to get
my cell phone. I couldn’t trust Evan not to see me, even though the
room was dark and the blinds were closed. It wasn’t that I thought
he had superhuman powers, only a sharp, malicious mind.
    The red digits on my clock said 2:20. Even if
I had the phone, Rick would be sleeping. Unless he had night duty.
I could have called the station, but Evan would be gone before they
ever got here.
    I was never going to fall asleep in that
lonely room. I crept to the head of the stairs and called softly,
“Petey! Pumpkin!” They were comfortably snoozing on their cushions
in the den, or more likely on the living room sofa. But they came
when I called.
    “Good dogs.” I should have brought up their
cushions, but I didn’t want to go downstairs. He might be right
outside.
    I invited them both onto my bed. It left
scarcely any room for me, but I felt safe. I didn’t care what Rhoda
would have to say about dogs on beds.
    * * * *
    In the morning, I went out to see if there
were pebbles in the back yard under my window. I couldn’t help
hoping it was all part of my dream, although it seemed very
real.
    It was real. The pebbles were there, the kind
of gravel people put on their driveway. I wanted to call Rick right
away, but it was too early. The pebbles weren’t going anywhere.
    I called him in mid-morning. He got back