Free Sleepwalk by John Saul Page A

eyes, indeed their whole appearance, had lost any semblance of innocence. They stood together, their posture slouched as if to send a signal to whomever might be watching that even here, at the funeral of one of their friends, they were still cool, still somehow detached from it all. With them were two girls, one of whom Judith was certainwas Gina Alvarez. Still as pretty as she had been as a child, Gina’s dark eyes seemed to sparkle with life, and her chestnut-colored hair framed a face that already had matured beyond the prettiness of a little girl and into the beauty of a young woman.
    Next to Gina stood a boy Judith recognized at once. Indeed, she would have recognized Jed Arnold by his eyes alone—those incredibly bright, almost turquoise-blue eyes, made even more remarkable by the crisp planes of his face and the bronze skin he had inherited from his mother.
    Those eyes were his father’s. Judith scanned the crowd, searching for Frank Arnold himself. A moment later she saw him, standing alone, staring at the coffin almost as if he weren’t entirely certain he should have been at the funeral at all. Was he remembering another funeral, when it had been his wife whose remains were being consigned to the ground?
    She was about to look away when Frank abruptly glanced up, as if he’d felt her eyes on him. His expression seemed puzzled for a moment, but then his eyes met hers and he shifted his weight slightly, straightening up to his full height. He offered her a small nod of recognition, and Judith felt herself flush, all her childhood memories of him flooding back to her.
    She turned away, falling in with Rita and Max Moreland as they made their way toward the Frederickses. As they came to the head of the receiving line, Judith extended her hand to Reenie Fredericks.
    “I’m so sorry,” she said. “You might not remember me, but—”
    “Of course I remember you,” Reenie said, taking her hand firmly. “You used to be Judy Sheffield!”
    “I still am,” Judith replied. “Except it’s Judith now. I never did really like ‘Judy.’ ”
    “I know,” Reenie said, her faint smile fading as her eyes wandered to her daughter’s grave. “Heather hated nicknames too. She even wanted me to start making everyone call me Renée.” For a moment she seemed about to dissolve into tears once more, but then took her emotions under control. “Well, I’ll remember to call you Judith. I can certainly do that for Heather, can’t I?” Her voice trembled, but then the person behind Judith spoke, and Reenie turned away, once more forcing herself to smile, determined not to break down again.
    Judith let herself drift away, moving through the crowd, stopping to talk briefly to some people, nodding to others. In a way, it was almost as if she’d never left Borrego at all. The same people were still there, doing the same things they’d been doing a decade ago.
    No surprises.
    An incredible feeling of familiarity.
    And then she came face to face with Frank Arnold.
    He was still standing by himself, but she hadn’t seen him approach until he put out a hand and turned her around. “I suppose everyone’s telling you you haven’t changed a bit, but I’m not going to,” he said.
    Judith felt her heartbeat speed up slightly, and prayed it didn’t show. “You mean you didn’t recognize me?” she asked, then wished she hadn’t. She’d never thought of herself as a flirt, and didn’t intend to turn into one now. “That was a stupid thing to say,” she went on without pausing, “since you nodded to me earlier.”
    “Oh, I recognized you all right,” Frank replied. “But you’ve grown up. What are you now? Twenty-five?”
    “Twenty-six,” Judith told him.
    Frank’s brows rose slightly in a dismissive gesture.“Same difference,” he said. “It’s not like when we were kids, and a couple of years’ difference in age put us into different worlds.” His eyes darkened slightly. “Have you seen Jed?”
    Judith