Jake and Quentin have the path to the Fyfield House Res to themselves.
Gesturing, Jake says, “Lets check this one too.”
The side path Jake is pointing at isn’t groomed with wood chips, it’s just worn into the undergrowth by students creating their own shortcut. Jake has no idea where it goes although Quentin knows it leads to his circle’s favorite clearing, surely littered with roaches. Still, they need to check it. His friends won’t have been back since it got so cold.
“Liz is probably being a bit alarmist,” Quentin tells Jake. “Nat’s probably just out buying shoes or something.”
Jake nods, not really believing it.
Natasha has never struck him as one of the girls who buys truckloads of shoes. She’s willing to get dirty if it’ll get her a good picture. She never seems to care what she wears or if it’s a mess. He doesn’t quite get the bond with Boris, either. Boris is the one he can see maxing the plastic buying new clothes to make himself feel better. Bo always makes him aware of how tattered his own off the rack wardrobe is. Boris generally looks like he just stepped out of GQ or something, but Natasha’s favorite couturier is Goodwill.
“Natasha!” Jake calls. They stop and listen but hear nothing but the distant sounds of the creek.
“I hope you’re right.” They follow it to the clearing where they find lots of trampled grass, cigarette butts and roach ends. But no Natasha. No anybody.
Quentin peers into the bushes as he does a circuit of the clearing. “Natasha!” he calls, but gets no response.
On the opposite branch of the path Ethan and Liz walk toward the parking lot. Periodically Liz calls out “Natasha!” but there’s no sound beyond the rustling of leaves in the trees.
Liz says, “We have to find her. I have such a bad feeling.”
“We’ll find her.” Ethan gives her hand a squeeze, then looks into the woods.
Most Christie students are off somewhere eating, or studying, or whatever, leaving the walkways nearly unused as night falls.
As it gets darker the sensors activate and the lights mounted on the poles lining the path wink on, one by one. They’re losing light fast so it’s getting harder to see.
Ethan says, “Let’s just check the parking lot.”
Liz nods and they hurry up to where the footpath widens into the lot that’s used by day students with cars. Unless something’s scheduled in the Arts Centre, its pretty empty nights, so now only a handful of cars are flung across a space large enough to accommodate a few hundred.
Although the bus shelter looks empty, Liz crosses the lot to check while Ethan starts peering in car windows.
Approaching the residence, Jake rubs his hands together vigorously, then stuffs them in his pockets. “I’ll just be a minute.”
Quentin nods. “Go on up, Jake, I’ll keep looking around down here.”
“Why don’t you come up with me. Warm up.”
Quentin laughs. “Then it’ll just be harder to come back out. I’ll keep moving thanks. Bring flashlights, that’ll help.”
Jake nods and keys his way in the side door.
Walking around the back of the building Quentin peers through the trees. Although the forest is thinner here it is almost dark. No sign of anyone, certainly no one taking pictures. He doesn’t want to scare Jake, but he is starting to get worried. Maybe it’s just because Liz is so worked up.
But.
Turning it over in his mind, Quentin knows hiding out is terribly out of character for Natasha. Or shoe shopping for that matter. The Natasha Quentin knows would have gone to the shoot and taken a bunch of fantastic photos of antique cars. When she came back she’d either apologize to Bo or knock him down again.
Rounding the building he comes to the residence parking lot. A quick scan of the cars tells him they all have Christie parking stickers. He doesn’t think Natasha has a car, but he looks in car windows just the same. Maybe she’s catching a nap or something.
Nothing. Looking back at the building, he notes a line of dumpsters backed up against the lower wall. The higher floors all have windows, but most of the lights are out. Students seem to resist going into their tiny cells until they have to to sleep.
Quentin looks at the dumpsters, but isn’t sure he really wants to even think about them, let alone look. Back home in Ottawa his brother is a cop, and he’s heard too many grisly dumpster stories.
Please don’t be in a dumpster, Natasha.
Upstairs Jake lets himself into the residence, passing through the common room where Elsie is curled in a chair eating a cream cheese bagel. Elsie smiles at him. She always smiles at him. That’s part of what scares him. Jake knows other guys think she’s hot, and he’d probably think so too if she wasn’t so frightening. She’d make a great Lady MacBeth or a wild haired Boudica leading a charge on the Romans. But in real life she’s a bit much.
“Have you seen Natasha?” he asks heading to the kitchen.
Elsie watches Jake, clearly amused at the reaction she always provokes in the boy. “I’d expect her to lay low a while.”
Opening the junk drawer Jake roots around until he finds a couple of pencil flashlights. Then he decides they really need a big one, too. Coming back through the common room he asks Elsie, “You haven’t seen her, have you?”
Elsie laughs. “No, just the results of her handiwork.” Jake looks confused, until she adds, “I had to ice Bo’s eyes and put him to bed.”
Elsie makes eye contact with Jake, who’d momentarily forgotten how uncomfortable this woman makes him. But when she smiles and runs her tongue suggestively through the cream cheese Jake mutters, “Oh” and turns and escapes to his room.
Watching Jake flee makes Elsie smile. God that little one is too easy. Maybe she should take him to bed. Been a while since she’s had a virgin. Then she chastises herself. Stop it. She’s already made a mess in her nest, better not compound it.
Safe in his room Jake slips into his coat, wondering if he should wake Boris. Better not, probably wouldn’t be a good thing to have him there when they find Natasha. She’ll probably be mad.
He reaches into the night table drawer for the lantern flashlight his mom gave him. He pockets spare batteries fresh from the charger, since it eats batteries ridiculously fast, but it’s bright.
Locking the room Jake wishes Q had come up just to get him get past Elsie. Bracing himself for the gauntlet, he’s relieved Elsie’s not in the common room this time, and he hurries to the stairwell.
Jake hopes Liz is over-reacting, but he’s afraid she’s not.
