Cory sat in the space of her silence, felt the crushing weight of it as she peeled the label off her water bottle and dropped pieces that spiraled down like snowflakes into the dirt.
He wanted to know what she did, and who this Donna was, but decided to save that for later. A more pressing question was lined up and ready to go. “How long have you been doing this thing with Harvey?”
“This thing? It’s abuse. Don’t be a dick, Cory Bic.”
He blinked at the heat of her sudden fury. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“The answer is this thing has been going on too long.” She stood and said, “I’m tired of this fucking view. Let’s change it.”
Cory followed her down a short graveled trail that led to the south-facing side of Flat Top. As they rounded a bend he saw an ocean of windmills with shimmering white blades rotating slowly in the light of an emerging sun. The closest one was maybe a mile away, but they still looked huge. There was a wooden bench covered with graffiti that looked out over the view. Instead of sitting there, Kayla climbed down through some bushes and around a small outcropping to a rocky ledge big enough for two people to sit on if they dangled their legs over the lip. It was quiet here, sheltered from the wind and the world. Cory got the sense that Kayla had been here many times. Unlike a few minutes ago, she looked peaceful. She pulled a joint out of her pocket and lit it. She inhaled deeply, offered him a hit.
He declined and said, “All that stuff you talked about with Harvey. Why do you do it?”
“It’s not what I do. It’s what he does. It’s not stuff. It’s abuse. Get your terms right.”
Cory felt his face turn crimson as the sting of her words sank in.
“I’m sorry. What I meant is why…I mean, what is…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
She said, “You mean why am I giving the future senator hand jobs in the front seat of black sports cars?”
“Okay. Let’s go with that.”
“My mother came down with a neurological disorder two years ago. It started in her extremities and her face but now it’s everywhere. Her muscles get all knotted and feel like they’re on fire. Sometimes she goes fetal and is like that for hours. At first they thought it was central pain syndrome. One night the pain was so bad she was medevacked to Portland. A specialist there thinks it may be something else, but we’ve heard that before. Anyway, I had to cancel babysitting at the Motts’ that night. The next day Harvey called me into his office at the hardware store. He said he heard my mother was medevacked and wanted to know what happened. I told him everything. That my mother was sick, that my father was unemployed and we didn’t have any insurance. That he was selling the house, we’d go bankrupt and move in with his brother in Bellingham to be closer to Seattle. Harvey said not to worry, he’d take care of everything. But I had to keep it between us.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.” She exhaled a cloud, looked at him. “Until now.”
“You left that necklace on purpose.”
“You’re quick, Cory Bic.”
“How did you know Ty would find it?”
“The guy with the bad mustache in the detail shop—he used to be my gymnastics coach. I asked him to make sure that Ty got the Civic coupe.”
“You assumed Ty would know who it belongs to and give it to me.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not even going to try to explain how many ways your plan could have failed.”
“Karmic forces are at play,” she said. “Never underestimate them.”
“So I guess this means you wanted me to see you with Harvey.”
“Yes. But I didn’t want you to show up with a fucking zoom lens. Speaking of which, where are the pictures?”
“Harvey has them.”
“All of them?”
“Do you mean did I make copies? That answer is no.”
Kayla studied him for a moment, looked like she was going to respond, then turned to face the windmills. He watched her take a hit off the joint. After the exhale he asked, “Why me? Why am I the chosen one?”
“I needed to tell someone I could trust. Someone that wouldn’t run to Harvey. After you put all that energy into saving a rubber torso, I decided you had trustworthy potential. So I asked you a question at the gazebo.” She took another hit. “I liked your answer.”
“Which answer? As I recall you asked a lot of questions.”
“I asked you to tell me one true thing about yourself. You said you wake up scared every morning. I figured we had a lot in common. So I anointed you.”
Cory nodded. While he could understand the logic, there were still gaps in her story. “What about your parents? You had to tell them something after Harvey started paying the bills.”
“I told them that Harvey called a guy that called a guy and got Mom on the company insurance. All she had to pay was a twenty-five-hundred-dollar deductible and POOF, the bills were gone. They think he’s a hero, just like the rest of this ignorant town.” Kayla looked at Cory and shrugged. “Like it or not, I consulted with the karma gods and they pointed at you.”
“Then I show up with a fucking zoom lens. Definitely not my finest hour.” Cory shook his head at the memory.
Kayla nodded. “I had a long talk with the gods after that. They were not pleased.”
“So what now? Am I hopelessly absorbed?”
“You have that enzymie smell about you. But I’m here, so that means there is still hope.” She showed him what was left of the joint. “Do you know how I get this excellent weed?”
“No. Other than you said the future senator was involved.”
“He buys all my mother’s medical marijuana. He says it’s for her pain. I figured if it works for her pain, then it should work for mine.”
They locked eyes for a moment. Cory saw the hurt in there, deep and raw and unsettling. He ached to help but didn’t know how other than to listen to her story. “Speaking of weed,” he said, “I heard a rumor that your babysitting services were terminated because Charlene caught you smoking a joint on the deck while the kids, so the story goes, were in the kitchen eating tuna sandwiches.”
Kayla laughed. He wondered if it was his delivery, or the marijuana. “Those kids hate fish. They don’t even eat those cheesy goldfish crackers. So the tuna sandwich rumor is obviously fake news. What really happened is the future senator and the future senator’s wife had an epic fight. I couldn’t hear most of what they said but I did hear my name a few times. And some crying. The next day was Thanksgiving. She met me at the door and said that my services were no longer needed—ever. She gave me a check for five thousand dollars and asked me not to talk to anyone about why they were letting me go. I asked her why she was doing this. She said, You know why, and slammed the door. As if it was my fault! Then you showed up the next day.”
Cory remembered their arrival. “I saw you in the window that night. Why were you there?”
“I had a few personal items to pick up. Plus, I wanted a good look at the replacement nannies before they got absorbed.” She checked the time on her phone. “This place will be crawling with runners soon. We’d better go.”
“Wait. I have one last question. You said that when you’re in the car with Harvey, sometimes he would tell you to do what Donna did. Who is Donna and what did she do?”
Kayla looked at him. There was no sign of the marijuana now. The pain had morphed into something hard, something with an edge. He steeled himself for a stinging rebuke.
Instead she whispered, “This is where it gets really sick, Cory Bic.”
“I can handle it.”
“He had a black Mustang in high school. Donna was his girlfriend. They were on the debate team together. She would meet him in the Mustang before a competition. He’d pull it out and she’d jerk him off. He said it helped him clear his mind so he could debate better.” Kayla stubbed out the joint, crumbled the remainder, and sent it flaking off into the wind. “It must have worked. They won the national championsh
ips.”
“Why does he set a timer for eight minutes?”
“Why do you think?”
“I don’t even want to guess.”
“Obviously you’re not up on competition protocols. That’s how long a debate lasts.”
Cory shook his head at the sickness of it all. She stood and he joined her. They watched the sea of turbines spinning white under a risen sun. Clouds had gathered to the east. It looked like rain was on the way. She said, “Thank you for listening to my story of woe.”
“You’re welcome.”
Kayla turned and headed for the trail. Cory took one last look at those storm clouds, then followed her off the ledge.
STUMPTOWN
NOW
52
I sit up for the tenth time since the coyote left. The gray light of dawn finally leaks in under the tarp. I crawl out of my sleeping bag and peer out a porthole window. The forest is wet but I don’t see any signs of falling snow or rain. It’s time to go.
I put on my cargo pants, my boots, my coat. Then I pick up the water bottles, gag down the sludge, and almost puke. She asked me to wake her before I go, but I think she needs the sleep more than she needs to say good-bye to me. I head for the door.
Her voice behind me whispers, “Hey. I asked you to wake me.”
I stop and turn. “Busted.”
“Forgiven. How long will you be gone?”
“About an hour.”
“Are you taking a weapon?”
“Like what?”
“The hammer?”
I think about the supreme irony of me using a hammer to defend myself from Tirk. “No. I’m going to leave it here with you. If someone comes in that door and it isn’t me, pound his head like a rusty nail.”
“What if it’s Ty?”
I hadn’t even considered that possibility. How could my brother be more alive to her than he is to me? If I answer that question now the pain will consume me. All I say is, “You’d better miss.”
“I’m going to worry. What shall I do while you’re gone?”
“Read the Playboy magazine in the chest. Then you can entertain me with fun facts about Marilyn Monroe while we hike out of here.”
She smiles faintly. “I’d like that.”
I raise the flap and crawl out of the stump.
LUSTER, OR.
THREE MONTHS AGO
53
“So this whole deal is about that twisted fuck living out some old high school fantasy?” Ty slammed a fist into the heavy bag. The impact echoed inside the gym.
“Yup.”
Ty started to bob and weave as he ducked imaginary punches. He spoke between jabs. “I know she’s got a few screws loose, but seriously, dude? Why does she do it?” He unleashed a flurry of left-right-left-right punches, his hands taped and his sweat-soaked T-shirt clinging to his torso. Cory stood on the other side of the heavy bag, leaned into it. He felt the shuddering impact of each blow and was grateful that he had thirteen inches of sand-filled canvas between him and Ty’s fists. When his brother finally stopped and toweled off the sweat, Cory scanned the gym. A man was bench-pressing a huge amount of weight with a woman in a sports bra spotting him. Luckily they were on the other side of the gym and the ambient rock music playing on the sound system was loud enough to keep them from listening in. They would not be a problem. Ty on the other hand—he was getting riled up. That could be trouble. Cory had to play this just right.
Ty asked, “Why didn’t she just stop?”
Cory heard the tension in his voice. Benny mode was around the corner. The jabs were increasing in force. He had to be careful with the next dose of information.
“Her mother is sick and Harvey is paying the bills. If she says no, then the Harvey money train stops.”
Ty switched from jabs to punches. “Why doesn’t she go public? Just sink his sick ass.”
“He checks her phone and deletes all the texts. He said it would be her word against his. No one would believe her, and he’d sue them for libel. With the legal bills on top of the medical bills—it would be too much for their family. She said just the guilt of knowing what she had done would kill her mother.”
Ty stopped punching. He stared at Cory for a moment, then ripped the tape off his hands. His eyes filled with suppressed rage. “And this asshole wants to be a senator! I’m gonna kill that lying two-faced motherfucker. End of story.”
This was the moment Cory was waiting for. He had to pull Ty back from the edge. “Hold on a minute. I need you to stay calm. Don’t go all Benny mode on me.”
“Too late.” Ty picked up his gym bag and towel. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“The ski lodge, the dealership. Wherever the fuck that snake is hiding.”
“Not until you calm down.”
“This is calm. I’m saving angry for later.”
Cory pointed to the heavy bag. “Tell you what. We’ll go, but first I want you to show me what you’re going to do him.” He stood behind the bag, leaned into it.
Ty smiled. “Good thing you weigh a lot.”
He unloaded on the bag with a fury of punches, side and front kicks. Then he launched himself into the air and executed a perfect 360-degree roundhouse strike. The impact sent Cory reeling backward. Ty wiped his face with the towel, left behind a streak of red on his jaw. Cory noticed that his bare knuckles were raw and bloodied, and the bag had a dark wet stain.
Cory said, “Whatever that was, I have a better way.”
“Not possible. Where’s the car?”
“Shower first. Better make it a cold one. Then we’ll talk.”
Cory explained his plan in the Volvo on their way to the ski lodge. He finished just as Ty turned in to the driveway. He stopped halfway up, left the lights on and the engine idling. Cory could see the house through the trees, heard Pavlov barking at the door.
Ty said, “I’m impressed. It could actually work.”
“It’s going to take some patience.” Cory was relieved. He expected more of a fight, since twenty minutes ago Ty was out for blood.
“You’re okay with stealing the Volvo?”
“I don’t think he’ll press charges. Not with what we know.”
“When do we leave?”
“Three months from now. We need to store up provisions, get our ducks lined up. And I need to lose thirty pounds. No way I could hike the blood trail that many times. Especially with a pack.”
“Give me a specific date. Something I can look forward to.”
“October 20.”
“It’ll be cold by then.”
“Stumptown has a stove. We can handle it. The question is, can you handle three more months at the ski lodge?”
Ty thought for a moment. “That might be a problem. But, hell, if you can, I can.”
Cory hated to ask this question. But he had to. It was the only big problem with his plan. “What about Tirk?”
“I can handle him.”
He studied his brother for a moment. Ty sounded confident, but there was something in the way that he avoided Cory’s eyes that left him less than convinced. “Are you sure?”
“Dude! I got it covered. Trust me. Now back to the plan.” This time Ty found Cory’s eyes and stayed there. “People will get hurt your way, you know. People who have been very good to us.”
Cory winced. This was another flaw, but he didn’t see a way around it. “I’ll do my best to limit the damage.”
“My way is cleaner. Only one person gets hurt.”
Cory resisted telling him about Portland and Harvey’s threat. Ty’s solution wasn’t as clean as he thought. “We need to do this right. If you hurt him, he’ll just bounce back.”
“Dead people don’t bounce.”
“Point taken. But you have to stop talking like that.”
“Hey, I’m jus’ sayin’….”
The front porch light turned on. Three seconds later Chloe’s face appeared in the living room window, no doubt looking for them. Cor
y remembered he promised to help her figure out a new fashion app after dinner. He said, “Harvey uses his power to create weaknesses; then he exploits them. He’s a predator. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. We’re going to expose him for what he is. That’s how we take him down.”
“That’s all true. But you gave Harvey the evidence. We don’t have any pictures of what happened. And he’s got Kayla too scared to tell her story.”
Cory smiled. He’d been waiting all night for this moment. “I didn’t give him everything.”
“What else is there?”
“Harvey asked for all the pictures. He didn’t ask for the video.”
Ty blinked. “You shot video?”
“Twelve seconds of pure Harvey highlights.”
“But how…?”
“I uploaded the video file to my iCloud account, then deleted it from the card. I snapped some stills while the video was recording, and I left those behind. When he sees the content, he won’t suspect that anything is missing.”
Ty said, “My bro the badass ninja chef. This is genius.”
“So you’re good with my way?”
“Oh, way more than good. You got a name for this op?”
Cory had already given this question a lot of thought. He wanted something symbolic, something that reminded him of an empire crashing to the ground. “Operation Rome Burning,” he said.
“Well, here’s to Operation Rome Burning.” They bumped fists.
Ty drove up to the house.
Harvey opened the front door as they climbed out of the car. He looked at them for a moment, then smiled as wide as the day they first arrived. “You’re just in time. Dinner is on the table. I hope you’re hungry!”
STUMPTOWN
NOW
54
My first move after exiting the stump is to check the immediate area to see how bad the damage is from our struggle two days ago. There are still some snow patches and a few have recognizable prints. It looks natural enough to be missed by most people unless you look closely. And even then, the stump gives nothing away. I walk down to the remains of the tracks from yesterday’s visitor. There is enough snow left to see part of a boot heel. It looks like they are headed south, maybe toward the creek.
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