Twisted

What can I say? He’s the marryin’ kind after all.
    “I went to the credit union and borrowed five hundred bucks and bought this diamond ring. Then I asked her out to dinner on Friday. I was going to give the ring to the waitress and tell her to put it on a plate and bring it to the table when we asked for dessert. Cute, huh?
    “So, Friday, I was working the P.M. shift, three to eleven, for the bonus, but I ducked out early, at five, and showed up at her house at six-twenty. There were cars all over the place. Allison came outside, looking all nervous. My stomach twisted. Something funny was going on. She told me her mother was having a party and there was a problem. Two maids had got sick or something. Allison had to stay and help her mother. I thought that was weird. Both of them getting sick at the same time? She said she’d see me in a day or two.”
    I saw the exact moment that the thought came into his mind; his eyes went dead as rocks.
    “But there was more to it than that,” Manko whispered. “A hell of a lot more.”
    “Allison’s father, you mean?”
    But he didn’t explain what he meant just then and returned to his story of the aborted proposal. He muttered, “That was one of the worst nights ofmy life. Here, I’d ditched work, I was in hock because of the ring, and I couldn’t even get five minutes alone with her. Man, it was torture. I drove around all night. Woke up at dawn, in my car, down by the railroad tracks. And when I got home there was no message from her. Jesus, was I depressed.
    “That morning I called her at the hospital. She was sorry about the party. I asked her out that night. She said she really shouldn’t, she was so tired—the party’d gone to two in the morning. But how ’bout tomorrow?”
    A gleam returned to Manko’s eyes. I thought his expression reflected a pleasant memory about their date.
    But I was wrong.
    His voice was bitter. “Oh, what a lesson we learned. It’s a mistake to underestimate your enemy, Frankie. You listen to Manko. Never do it. That’s what they taught us in the Corps. Semper Fi. But Allison and me, we got blindsided.
    “That next night I came over to pick her up. I was going to take her to this river bluff, like a lover’s lane, you know, to propose. I had my speech down cold. I’d rehearsed all night. I pulled up to the house but she just stood on the porch and waved for me to come up to her. Oh, she was beautiful as ever. I just wanted to hold her. Put my arms around her and hold her forever.
    “But she was real distant. She stepped away from me and kept glancing into the house. Her face was pale and her hair was tied back in a ponytail. I didn’t like it that way. I’d told her I liked it when she wore itdown. So when I saw the ponytail it was like a signal of some kind. An SOS.
    “ ‘What is it?’ I asked her. She started to cry and said she couldn’t see me anymore. ‘What?’ I whispered. God, I couldn’t believe it. You know what it felt like? On Parris Island, basic training, you know? They fire live rounds over your head on the obstacle course. One time I got hit by a ricochet. I had a flak vest on but the slug was a full metal jacket and it knocked me clean on my ass. That’s what it was like.
    “I asked her why. She just said she thought it was best and wouldn’t go into any details. But then I started to catch on. She kept looking around and I realized that there was somebody just inside the door, listening. She was scared to death— that’s what it was. She begged me please not to call her or come by and I figured out she wasn’t talking to me so much as saying it for whoever was spying on us. I played along. I said okay, if that’s what she wanted, blah, blah, blah . . . Then I pulled her close and told her not to worry. I’d look out for her. I whispered it, like a secret message.
    “I went home. I waited as long as I could then called, hoping that I’d get her alone. I had to talk to her. I had to hear her voice, like I needed air or water. But nobody picked up the phone. They had an answering machine but I didn’t leave a message. I didn’t get any sleep that weekend—not a single hour. I had a lot to think about. See, I knew what’d happened. I knew exactly.
    “Monday morning I got to her hospital at six and waited just outside the entrance. I caught up with her just before she went inside. She was still scared,looking around like somebody was following her, just like on the