Don't Come Home

by Bea Bledsoe

  She leaned forward, her voice clipped. “What do you mean it’s been gone for EIGHT years? “The sheriff spread his hands wide.

  “Leigh, the last time I saw you was when you were probably about ten years old, sitting on your couch reading a book too big for you.” He chuckled lightly, and she wanted to throw him across the room. “I came over for dinner and spoke with your daddy about his new Winchester .338. A year or so later, everyone packed up and left Blackriver, including yourself and your parents, remember? Leigh, that town’s been dead for almost a decade. I haven’t talked to you or them since.” He scooted forward, his eyes concerned. “Leigh, where do you think your parents are right now?”

  She rocked forward, her eyes on his. “No. NO. I left Blackriver in early August, when I left for school. LAST August, just about ten months ago!”

  Lacombie stared at her, his forehead furrowing. “No, Leigh - there’s been no town in that part of the Basin for about eight years now. Your parents moved to Teton County. I helped them pack up.”

  A dry laugh bubbled out of Leigh’s mouth.

  “Teton County? As if we could ever afford that.” When she looked up, both Henry and the Sheriff’s faces were echoing the same dark thought. “I’m not crazy,” she whispered. “I’m not.”

  As she pushed up to her feet, she felt doubt clouding her mind, like a slow-moving fog. She focused on what she knew, what she remembered, the jarring emotions like landmarks in her mind. “I left home on August second.” Her voice was hard now, carved with steel. “I watched my mother cry in the rearview mirror as I drove away. That date is something I won’t ever forget.” She clutched the memory like a life raft in her mind, and when she did, the implications of what was happening became terrifyingly clear. It felt like her heart stopped beating when she turned back to the sheriff.

  “You’re lying.” She said it quietly, and the words echoed in her chest.

  Lacombie made an uncomfortable noise. “Now, I want you to think about what you’re saying. What’s more probable, Leigh? That your entire town up and disappeared, or that you are in the midst of some kind of school-related mental breakdown?”

  Leigh shot to her feet and pointed at him. “You’re lying, Sheriff. You visited Blackriver the summer before last. My mother gave you a piece of pie.”

  The sheriff shook his head. “I’m sorry to say that I don’t remember that at all. Maybe you need to lie down for a while? We’ve got a guest bed upstairs that I could make up for you. But Leigh, I have to ask - are you on any medications?”

  While Lacombie’s face remained calm, there was a storm of anger behind his lashes. Henry was staring at Leigh, unable to hide his growing fear. The floor swayed underneath her, and she felt like the small gray pieces inside her were going to blow away. Instead, she pressed her feet into the floor, gritted her teeth, and held to what she knew.

  “There are 160 people missing and you’re going to lie about it? Tell me what happened!” Her voice climbed higher as she remembered the haunting emptiness that now filled their once-beautiful valley.

  Sheriff Lacombie shot to his feet before grabbing her roughly by the arm, squeezing hard. “You need to think very hard about what you’re implying.” He said gruffly, meeting her eyes. Leigh was surprised to see fear there. She twisted away from him.

  “And you have the nerve to lie about my family to my face?” she hissed. “My father was your friend. Tell me, where are they?” The sheriff shoved her back roughly and Leigh stumbled, her knee hitting the coffee table. This was getting out of control fast.

  Henry leapt up, putting himself between the two of them. “Why don’t we all just calm down,” he said softly, his hands out. She shoved Henry away from her, an unhinged motion that scared her after she did it.

  “I’ll calm down when I find my parents! How can you not care that an entire town has gone missing? Where is your honor? You were supposed to protect us.” She wearily raised her head to look at the sheriff, outlined in the light of a stained-glass window. Her eyes began tracing the rest of the interior of his house, taking in ornate woodwork and clean French doors. This is new, she thought. This is all new. She turned back around slowly. “Didn’t you live in an older house before? Just off Main Street, a small place if I remember correctly.”

  The patient expression on the sheriff’s face turned sour. “Listen here, sweetheart, don’t be talking about things you don’t understand….”

  “I’m not your sweetheart,” she interrupted. “And you’re a fucking liar.”

  The sheriff’s hand came to rest at his side, where Leigh could see his fingers tracing the outline of his pistol as he spoke. “This seems to be escalating quickly. I think what’s best for all of us is if we all just sit down, have a cup of coffee, and talk this through, like the kind-hearted folk we are. Leigh, I know a doctor in Casper - he works at the Wyoming Behavioral Institute – and he’s wonderful;. I’ve taken people who are having mental health issues there a couple of times, and the staff are incredibly compassionate. I think you probably just need some rest to get your head right; it pains me to see you this way. Blackriver has been gone a long time – and there’s no use dragging up old hurts. Why don’t I just give them a call and you stay here? I promise, we’ll get this straightened right out.” From this angle, Leigh could see the tiredness carved into his face, the dark plum rings that circling his eyes.

  The side of the sheriff’s mouth twitched as he gently wrapped his calloused hand around Leigh’s upper arm. Henry stepped forward with an easy smile. “You know what sir, I think you’re right. Leigh probably needs some rest – I’m sure she doesn’t mean to be disrespectful. She’s had very little sleep.”

  Leigh felt his betrayal like a knife in the chest. “Are you serious? Henry…he’s lying!” The boy from Boston wouldn’t meet her eyes. A hollow of loneliness filled the place her heart used to be. She had no one.

  He turned back to the sheriff. “Look, it’s been a while since Leigh’s been back here, and I think maybe it’s triggering some hurtful memories. We’ll head to Cody straight from here, and I’ll personally make sure she gets on a plane back East. There are counselors there that I’m sure will help her, ones that she is familiar with.” The sheriff nodded before pulling Henry aside, speaking quietly insistent words to him. Leigh heard murmurs of their conversation.

  “…Don’t really know her that well…back to Harvard…mental health…. who knows what meds. Nervous breakdown maybe?” Then, Leigh heard a sentence that froze the blood in her veins: “Stole two thousand dollars from me.” The world was spinning, and so as Henry spoke to the sheriff, making decisions about her like she wasn’t standing right there, Leigh focused on the picture of Yellowstone hanging above the fireplace: a bright acrylic of a deer walking across a fog drenched valley, Tetons framing the horizon. In the corner, the artist had signed his name and dated it. Moving slowly so as not to attract attention, Leigh leaned over and looked closer. The expensive painting was only about six months old based on the where the artist had dated it. She drove her nails painfully into her palm. The sheriff was part of whatever was going on; she could feel it, even if Henry didn’t believe her.

  Just underneath the painting was the sheriff’s gun collection; Leigh’s eyes lit up as they traced over the rack of handguns and antique rifles. The decision was made in a half-second. Stealing cash at Harvard had made her a quick grab, so she waited for the right moment; a second later, the sheriff shifted, and the wood floor beneath him creaked. In a second, Leigh had grabbed one of the pistols and shoved it into the back of her pants. Her shirt was back in place by the time they both looked over at her with judgmental eyes.

  Leigh straightened up, her gaze trained on the Sheriff. “Blackriver was there.” She said, stepping backwards. “I’m going to find out what happened and whoever bought you is going to have to pay.”

  He angrily pushed towards her. “You’ll do no such thing. Henry here is going to take you to Cody and then home to Boston. And Leigh, yo
u best watch yourself should you ever return to Tensleep. I’ll not have you stand in my own home and call me a liar.” He clenched his first before turning back to Henry. “Get her to the airport, young man...before something worse happens to you both.” The threat was clear. Henry wrapped his hand roughly around Leigh’s arm and began dragging her towards the front door.

  “Say their names!” Leigh screamed it as he tried to pull her away. She felt like a cornered animal, spitting and hissing. “Skip and Darlene Montgomery. You knew them! You knew them all!” They exploded out into the overcast light, the screen door slamming shut behind them.

  “Come on, Leigh.” Henry’s voice wasn’t kind, and Leigh struggled against him.

  “Stop it! You don’t know. Henry - he’s lying! You have to believe me.”

  Henry pulled her close, words pushed out through angry, gritted teeth. “GET IN THE CAR, LEIGH. We’re done here.” He yanked open the door open and roughly shoved her up into the passenger’s seat. She stared at him as he tried to buckle her seatbelt, his sudden change in demeanor like plunging into shockingly cold water.

  “Get your hands off me.” Leigh slapped his hands away from the belt and watched as Henry’s face turned from anger to desperation.

  “Just stay in the car.” He hissed, before slamming the car door so hard that it vibrated her teeth. She shifted in her seat, feeling the cold metal of the handgun reassuringly pressed up against her back.

  “Where are you?” She whimpered to her parents, to the silent car. Sheriff Lacombie was outside now, talking loudly to Henry. After a second, he patted Henry on the back and they shook hands like weary soldiers. Leigh felt like she might vomit. After a second, Henry climbed into the driver’s seat beside her.

  “How dare you.” She said coldly. “You were the one that insisted on coming here with me, and now you’re…”

  “Leigh, I really need you to be quiet right now.” Henry said patronizingly. “That’s what I need you to do.” She sat back against the seat as they pulled away from the Sheriff’s house and began making their way out of Tensleep. Officer Thorne’s car follow behind them until they reached the outskirts of town. Thorne flashed his lights at Henry as he turned around, and Henry gave a friendly wave, signaling they were good. The hell they were. Leigh sat silently for ten more minutes, waiting for the police car to show again, and when it didn’t, she slowly unbuckled her seatbelt and reached her hand down her back.

  “What are you doing, don’t…” Henry’s voice stopped when she spun around in her seat and aimed the gun right at him.

  “Pull over.” Leigh said calmly. Henry’s eyes went wide. If he didn’t think she was unstable before, he certainly did now. That was fine. He could think she was an insane bitch.

  “Is that a GUN? Oh my God, Leigh, did you steal a gun?”

  She didn’t blink. “Yes, I stole a gun, and I need you to pull over and get out of the car. Right. Now.”

  “I’m not pulling over.” He said as he accelerated the car. Leigh held the gun steady.

  “PULL OVER!” She ordered, her fingers tracing the trigger. “I don’t want to hurt you Henry, but I won’t let you take me to Cody or to the Wyoming Behavioral Institute or anywhere else. I’m going to find my parents, with or without you.” Her voice softened a little, cracking at the end. “I’m not crazy, Henry. I’m not.”

  “I know, dammit!” Henry yelled, his eyes looking over at the gun. “Argh!” He pulled the SUV onto the side of the road, sending mud and weeds flying as the wheels skittered across the ground. The car came to a violent stop in the dust and he turned to face her as a cloud settled around them. She kept the gun leveled at his face as Henry turned to face her, his voice soft and familiar. “Leigh, I’m not taking you anywhere. I just needed to move us out of the sheriff’s house, and fast. It was a dangerous situation and it was escalating quickly. Giving him what he wanted was the only way to get us out.” The pounding in Leigh’s heart was quickly subsiding, but she kept the gun leveled on him.

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I believe you, Leigh.”

  At his words the hand holding the gun trembled slightly as her words tumbled out. “I know that there is no logical explanation for this, but I know that something terrible has happened to my town.” She lowered the gun as tears blurred her eyes. “I know that everything that made me is gone.”

  Henry was unbuttoning his seatbelt now, his arms gently finding hers, his hands tracing over her forearms as he leaned over the console. Leigh surrendered, leaning against his warmth, the gun by her side. Henry cleared his throat nervously. “Do you remember what that asshole Officer Thorne said just before we got into town? When he pulled us over?” Their eyes met as he raised an eyebrow. “He asked you how school was. And not just any school – “

  Leigh sat up, interrupting him excitedly. “Oh my God. He asked how my fancy East Coast school was. That means…”

  Henry clasped her arms tightly. “It means that somehow Officer Thorne knew you went to Harvard. Lacombie said that he hadn’t heard a thing from your family in years, since you supposedly moved eight years ago. So then how…”

  Leigh breathed a sigh of relief. “Then how would Officer Thorne know that?”

  “Not only that, but Lacombie recognized you immediately. Pretty hard to do for someone you haven’t seen in eight years. They were lying.” Henry put his hands on either side of Leigh’s face, cupping her cheeks in his warm, rough hands. “We’re going to find out what happened to Blackriver. I swear it. I wasn’t raised to let little men push me around. I’m a Champney for God’s sake.”

  For just a second, Leigh let herself float up and away from what was happening, to enjoy the feeling of her cheek resting gently against the cup of his palm. His touch stirred up the places where her worst fears had blocked out the sun. After a second, she forced herself to pull away. Who was she to enjoy the touch of this boy when one-hundred and sixty people were missing? Henry sat back in his seat and let out a long breath as he started the car again. “What now?” he asked.

  Leigh started straight ahead, attempting to form a plan in her mind. “Before we do anything, I think we need a shower and something to eat.”

  Henry let out a long groan. “Thank God you said that. I’m starving, Leigh. I can’t even see straight I’m so hungry.”

  Leigh thought for a moment. “I think there’s one of those big truck stops about an hour north of here. We can get our bearings, regroup. I need to buy some things.” Henry gunned the engine as they flew up and away from Tensleep. “Is it potato chips? Because that’s what I’m buying. All of them.”

  Leigh looked out the window, where she could see some dark blue clouds gathering over the mountain peaks. “I’m buying bullets.” She said softly. “And a shovel.” She ignored the alarm on his face at her words, and turned to the window.

  8

  Needles of hot water ricocheted off her skin as Leigh stood underneath the shower in the truck stop. She let the water run over her face and shoulders, trying desperately to cleanse herself of everything that was happening. She hoped it was a nightmare while knowing that it wasn’t; her mind, the thing that had both betrayed and saved her, wasn’t capable of creating this kind of hell. She ran over each event in her mind: The postcard. The dead phone lines. The sheriff’s lies. And finally, Blackriver, an entire town missing.

  The bland smell of ivory soap rose in the shower as Leigh ran it up and over her neck, her arms. Her body was aching from all the driving and the plane ride, and under the heat she could finally feel her muscles relaxing. Then, without warning the nozzle gave a sputter and the hot water that had been so comforting quickly faded to cool. Her paid time was up.

  Leigh wrapped the towel – roughly the size of a postage stamp – around her and made quick work of wiping herself dry. Out of her suitcase she pulled her favorite pair of jeans and a long-sleeved dark red Henley, a hand-me-down from Imogen. She twisted her hair up in a loose bun on the top of her head be
fore staring at herself in the dingy mirror. What if she was mad? How would she know? Leigh thought of home, of the way the hallway creaked when you walked down it, of how the sun burst aggressively through the round eastern windows, painting the inside of the house a pretty amber hue. Of her mother, standing at the stove.

  Without warning, Leigh’s first shot out and smashed against the mirror. The glass cracked into a spider web. She yelped in shock as she stepped back, horrified at her own action. A sharp pain shot up from her hand and she looked down to see blood dripping off her knuckles. Shit. Shit. What had she done? When she looked up, the mirror was destroyed, and in its fractured glass was the reflection of a girl like a rabid coyote. Desperate. Deranged.

  “Get it together.” She whispered to herself, rinsing off her hand and wrapping it in a paper towel before grabbing her suitcase. Harsh florescent lighting greeted her. The enormous truck stop and market was mostly empty, save Henry, who was intensely inspecting a shelf of snow globes in the corner. She watched as he turned each one over before putting it back onto the shelf, turning a shelf of neglected crap into a winter wonderland.

  “Hey.” She whispered as she neared him. “We need to go.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay here? At four o’clock they have fresh churros.” He glanced over at her. “Wow, you look nice. A true Crimson, I see, even during a major life crisis.”

  A smile pulled through her. “If by nice you mean clean, then yes, I look nice.”

  His eyes traveled to her bloody hand and before she knew it, he had it in his own, his touch so gentle that it stirred something in her belly. “What happened?”

  “Shhh…don’t worry about it. Nothing happened to me. I happened…to something.” Ignoring his quizzical look, Leigh turned away from him. “You grab the food, I’ll grab the supplies.” With a concerned look, Henry headed for the chip aisle. Leigh began grabbing items and piling them on the counter. Now that they only had a car to live in, they would need a lot of things before they returned to Blackriver: Two sleeping bags, gloves, a map of Wyoming, a shovel, two electric lanterns, knit hats, a rope, matches, and an expensive, heavy flashlight. Henry began piling food up next to her like it was the apocalypse: protein and granola bars, canned food, trail mix, chips, some dodgy bananas and finally, a giant bar of dark chocolate. Leigh was liking him more each second. Behind the counter, the teenage clerk watched with wonder as the pile grew. Henry came back carrying some clothing for himself and finally, Leigh threw a box of bullets on the counter.