If I’d said that to him, he would’ve laughed in my face. He would’ve claimed he didn’t know what I meant.
One night, not long ago, he came by my house, so drunk I didn’t know him, lost and raging. He told me to stop encouraging Jennie to go to college. He clearly feared that if she went, he’d lose her. I mentioned this and he called me a liar. Before he left, he said some awful things. I wouldn’t have recognized myself from his description.
Now the principal, Dick Peterson, is telling the kids that Gabe would want us to carry on; that he’d want us to go back to class and work hard.
A reporter from the Ukiah Daily Journal called me this morning. He was interviewing some of Gabe’s teachers. He asked if I thought Gabriel’s death was a suicide. A large percentage of teenage traffic fatalities are subconsciously intentional, the reporter confided.
I told him Gabe’s death wasn’t a suicide; but who’s to say? If you asked Gabe, he’d deny it. It’s not like he took a gun and blew his brains out. It’s more like he turned his back on life and walked away. Some kids are like that. You can’t reach them, but there’s something about them that makes you keep trying. It’s like going after a drowning man who keeps swimming toward the horizon.
15
Gabriel McCloud
Guess who? That’s right yours truely with another thrilling story of life in the fast lane Starring SHADOW MAN!!!
One thing about him he doesn’t have any family getting in his hair all the time. See he was rasied on this distant planet and then he came to Earth and left them all behind. The people who rasied him did it right they taut him what he needs to know to survive. When he was just a baby they taut him to be tough like when he was cold his mother carved him a coat of ice and said “Put this on and draw warmth from it and you’ll never have to fear the cold.” So he did. And when he was to hot because the sun was so close his father held him over a fire and said “Take the heat inside your bones and you’ll never be burned” and so he wasn’t. And when he was thirsty and wanted some milk his mother took a knife and cut Shadow Man’s wrist and said “Drink yourself and you’ll never be thirsty” or something like that and so he wasn’t. And when he was hungry and wanted some food his dad gave him a stone and said “Eat this it will sharpen your teeth and if you can eat stones you’ll never go hungry.” So he’s not exsactly your average guy but it gives him the strength to fight evil (live spelled backward.) Not that he goes around like Superman or something that guy is such a wimp.
Nobody tells Shadow Man what to do he decides what to do and does it. He can read people’s minds and he knows what thier thinking and he helps a lot of people out of trouble.
If I was Shadow Man I’d change a lot of things like the way people treat Manuel. Its not his falt he’s Mexican. That’s how he is. People make fun of him when he talks in class because he has that aksent but at least he’s trying. That’s more then some people. I told James to shut up and leave him alone and we got in a big fight. (Ya! I won!) It isn’t right what Manuel has to put up with then I think well he might as well get used to it that’s life. You either get tough or you die.
Well I’ve gone way over my limit lots of words this time so next time I don’t have to write so many right?
SHADOW MAN
Gabe:
Wrong. Keep up the good work. You’re doing beautifully! P.S. I think it’s great that you’re speaking up for Manuel. The other kids look up to you, Gabe. They really do. Set them a good example.
C.S.
16
Jennie Harding
It is so quiet here. There is no sound. Even the waves are silent; as if I were lying on the bottom of the ocean, the water above me as blue as the sky, the gulls flashing by like fish.
I am suspended in stillness, on the crest of the wave, in the breathless hush just before the wish. I have pushed back the world. I have made a safe place for my baby and me.
If I try very hard and hold my mind tight, I can keep out the terrible pictures: the crying faces, the open mouths. The sea is motionless. Time is my prisoner. I have carved out a moment that does not exist; it’s now and no tomorrow.
And I see my lover, rising like the sun, then bending to kiss me, his breath a warm breeze, his blue eyes deep enough to drown my fear.
The rock is hot, but the water is cool. I dangle my toes. Waves come nibbling like fish. I feel Gabriel pressing kisses on my lips, his tongue as sweet as chocolate.
Put your hands on my belly. Can you feel the baby, swimming in the dark like a minnow? We don’t even know who’s in there, you said. Yes, we do, I said; it’s you and me.
The walls of my mind are stretching, shrieking. Hold on tight. Got to hold on tight. Imagine Gabriel’s face above me. Inches away. He is kissing my throat.
I have to use all my strength to hold this moment in place, to make a space for Gabriel and the baby and me. Together forever. I can’t keep out the sound. The roaring and pounding. Gabe is slipping away. Don’t leave me!
Clouds are gathering. Waves are crashing. The storm is coming. Can you hear the thunder? My God, it sounds like Gabriel’s truck, hitting and hitting and hitting that tree, over and over, until nothing is left.
Not even me.
17
Joey Hammer
I ran into Franny coming out of the liquor store. He looked terrible.
“How you doing?” I asked, a stupid question. But what was there to say?
“Pretty bad.” He looked at me sideways. That’s his way.
“I’m awful sorry about Gabe,” I said. Franny cracked open a fresh pack of Salems. He might’ve bought a bottle too, but that’s his business. What’s the point of staying sober now? So he can tell how bad he’s feeling?
People are saying this is a punishment from God, for all of Franny’s sins.
The hell it is. Fran’s been punished enough. Anyhow, God wouldn’t use Gabe that way. Gabe’s just a kid, he didn’t do nothing wrong.
“How’s Katherine taking it?” We were standing outside, leaning against the wall by the newspaper racks.
“Not too good,” Franny said. “The minister just left. She wouldn’t talk to him.”
“She must be pretty upset.”
“She hasn’t said one word since she saw Gabe this morning.” Fran’s face was the color of the newspapers.
“There anything I can do?” I started to reach out my hand, but he’s not the kind of guy you touch.
He shook his head. “Gabe’s girlfriend took off. Nobody’s seen her all morning. Her father called the house. He’s been looking. Guess I’ll drive around and keep my eyes open.”
“What about Katherine?”
“She wants to be alone. Anyway, David’s there with her.”
“You want some company?”
“No,” he said. “I mean, thanks anyway.”
“Maybe I’ll drive around too,” I told him. “Did she and Gabe have a place they liked to go, someplace in particular?”
“Not that I know of.” He rubbed his eyes. Franny looked like he hadn’t slept in a week and might never sleep again.
I got in my car and started driving. There’s way too much country to cover. I didn’t see Jennie. All I saw was Franny’s face and those sad eyes behind his glasses.
He was real good-looking when he was young. And Kat was so pretty. They were the perfect couple. And hungry for each other. You could see it in their eyes. Like they couldn’t wait to be alone.
We’d be over there a lot, years ago, playing cards, a bunch of us young married couples. Sometimes Fran would get out his guitar. We used to say he was the next Hank Williams.
That first baby they had, he was really something. Francis Timothy. They called him Timmy. Golden-haired and pink-cheeked. We teased Kat about that, ’cause she and Franny were dark. Sweet little boy. His daddy was so proud of him. Bought him his own little toy guitar. Couldn’t wait to take him hunting and fishing.
A bunch of us boys were there the night it happened, playing card
s and drinking beer. Katherine had walked down the road to some baby shower one of the gals was having. The little boy was sleeping in his crib. It was a real pretty night. The sun was going down, the sky was silver.
The next thing we know, we hear this terrible noise around front, where there’s this little pond that Franny stocked with catfish. When we get there, Katherine’s standing in it, screaming, holding up her dead baby boy.
It wasn’t nobody’s fault. He’d got out of his crib. But Katherine blamed Franny. She never forgave him. Sometimes I think she stayed with him all these years just to hate him. At the time it happened, she was pregnant with David, then the other ones came along. When Gabe was a baby he looked like Timmy. The other boys take after Fran.
It wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t drunk that night. Ask anybody who was there. It was one of those things. It was life, it could happen to anyone.
I drove around for an hour with no sign of Jennie, but I did see Gabe’s dog. He was heading toward the highway. He stopped when I called him, but then he took off.
I wish there was something I could do for Fran. He seems real tough, but this has broken his heart. And Katherine not talking. Somebody’s got to do something. Unfortunately, they ain’t running over with friends. I asked my wife to go talk to Kat, but she wouldn’t; she was too scared.
I saw Tom Dawson coming out of the post office. I pulled over, but he wouldn’t come up to the car.
“You hear about Gabe?” I asked. I figured he had.
He nodded. “I went out there.”
“To the house?”
“To the wreck.” He wanted to get away, but I wouldn’t let him.
“I ran into Franny at the liquor store,” I said.
He looked real scornful. “That figures.”
“He was buying cigarettes. Anyway, who could blame him if he took a drink now?”
Tom shrugged and edged toward his car.
“Franny says Katherine won’t talk,” I said.
That got his attention. He stopped walking.
“Won’t talk?” he said.
“She’s too upset. You’ve got to go over there, Tom.”
He shook his head. “That’s got nothing to do with me.”
“I know how you feel, but that’s the past,” I said. “This ain’t the time to hold a grudge. For God’s sake, Tom, she’s your sister.”
18
Tom Dawson
I wasn’t sorry she married him. I grew up with Franny. If anyone could handle him, it was Katherine. They’d gone together forever, so there wasn’t any question that they’d get married.
Fran was slick, he was a wheeler-dealer. He always had a piece of every game in town. He’d show up with something brand-new and expensive—a shotgun, a chain saw, a truck, for God’s sake, and you had to wonder: Was it hot?
None of that mattered to Katherine. The shadows added to his charm. He was handsome and smart, and he could make people laugh.
It’s hard to picture that Franny now.
Of course, he could turn on you in a minute, with a wit that cut like a knife. Sense your weak spot and shove the blade in it. When he was drinking, he fought all the time. He’d kick, bite, whatever it took, even jump you from behind. He left me alone because I was bigger than he was and in those days I had a bad temper. Now things make me sad instead of mad. It’s no improvement.
Years ago we were over there a lot, Kay and me, playing cards. I was there the night the baby died. Katherine blamed Franny, but she wouldn’t leave him, she wouldn’t leave him no matter how bad things got. It was like they were locked in a fight to the finish and neither one was going to cry uncle.
The boys were a mess. Look at David and Gerald. I’m ashamed to admit they’re my flesh and blood. Gabe was the only one—what’s the use? I had to pry him out of that truck, his blood on my hands, my sister’s blood. I feel like smashing all the windows in this store. Customers come in and pretend to shop. They buy nails or a package of sandpaper. But what they really want is the gory details: Did Gabe go through the windshield? Was his head cut off? As if the truth weren’t bad enough.
Becky’s offered to go over and see Katherine, but it’s not her responsibility. It’s been eight years since I set foot in that house. Ever since the car deal. Fran shafted me.
I called the twins to tell them that their cousin is dead. Randy said, “Dad, you’ve got to go over there. You have to forgive and forget.”
I can’t. That house is so full of hate that you can feel it when you walk through the door. Why do people want to live like that? Katherine and Franny should’ve gone their separate ways. It was different in the old days. Before Timmy died. They were happy. Fran was making good money in construction and quite a bit on the side. He bought that Chevy pickup, the one he’s still driving. He even wears his hair like he did back then, too long for a man his age.
I’ve picked up the phone a couple of times. I even started dialing. But it’s been too long. There’s too much to say. And nothing to say at all.
19
Gerald McCloud
I can’t find James. He must be hiding. I stopped by the Lockhorn for a quick snort. Inside, it was as dark as a cave.
I sat at the bar. Everybody was watching me. Then I said, “Anybody seen James?”
If they had, they weren’t saying. Bunch of old losers, sitting around getting tanked all day. One old boy—Fritz—said, “Better go home, Gerald, before you get yourself in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” I gave him the look Frank used to give us just before he started swinging.
Fritz looked so scared I almost laughed. He stared down inside his drink, mumbling.
The bartender, a fat broad, says to me, “We don’t want no trouble here.”
“I was just asking Fritz what kind of trouble did he mean! In case you haven’t heard, my brother’s dead!”
“Have another drink, Gerald,” Fritz said. “On me.”
“I don’t want another drink! I want to find James! That bastard killed my brother!”
Susie Richards was down at the end of the bar. She’s thin and witchy with long twitchy legs. I used to picture them wrapped around me. Then Gabe came along and screwed that up.
“I’ll buy you a drink,” I said to her.
“Hell, no.” She stuck another cigarette in her mouth. I used to picture putting my mouth on her mouth and kissing her so hard she couldn’t talk.
That ticked me off, but I didn’t show it. “I know how you feel,” I told her.
“No, you don’t,” she said. “I’m glad he’s dead. Now he’s dead for everybody, not just me. Comes around acting like he loves me so much, then dumps me like I don’t mean nothing. The hell with him. The hell with you!” She’d been holding down that barstool for a while.
“Maybe we could go for a ride,” I said. “I’m looking for James. You could help me.”
“What good’s that going to do?” she said. “It’s not his fault your brother couldn’t hold his liquor. Besides”—she looked right in my face—“I wouldn’t ride with you if you was the last man in the world. You can go straight to the devil.”
I started toward her.
“Hold it, Gerald.” The bartender opened a drawer that I happen to know holds a gun.
I said, “That bitch better quit bad-mouthing my brother!” Everybody was staring at me. I knocked over some chairs on my way out.
He’s dead and he’s still getting me in trouble. We got in a big fight last week. He walked in while I was slapping David around. I work hard for my money and David always takes it, getting in my wallet and my dresser drawers. He blows it on booze and buying drinks for everybody, playing the big man at the Elbow Room and the Lockhorn. Let him work for a living. It don’t grow on trees. I sell firewood, meth, abalone out of season. Anyway, I wasn’t hitting him hard; I was just making a point.
Gabe runs into the living room and jumps over the couch like he’s Superman or something. He’s always showing off.
&nbs
p; “What the hell are you doing?” he says.
I let go of David. He slumped on the floor, blubbering. It was just a big show; he was too drunk to feel a thing.
“Butt out,” I said. “This is none of your business.”
David said something, but you couldn’t tell what; the words were all slobbered up.
“He steals my money and gets drunk,” I said.
“I don’t care what he does. Don’t hit him,” Gabe said.
“Who’s going to stop me?”
“I am.” Gabe’s chest was all puffed up. He thinks he’s really something.
“Just run along and play with your girlfriend,” I said. “From what I hear, she don’t put out. I guess that’s why you keep Susie on the side.”
I knew that would get him. He said, “Shut your dirty mouth!”
“I hope Jennie don’t find out,” I said. “That would break her little heart.”
It was almost a relief when we started punching, like our hands was finally doing the talking. David was lying on the floor, hollering. Then like magic a knife was in my hands. Gabe saw it and started laughing, like it wasn’t for real, like I was some big joke. I wanted to rip his smile wide open. David was yelling, “Gerald, don’t!”
Then Ma was in the room. She threw groceries at me, out of a paper bag she was holding. She kept hitting me with a long loaf of bread. You wouldn’t think bread would be that hard.
“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” she said. “Get out of here and don’t come back! All of you! Go ahead and kill each other! Just leave me alone!”
She went into her room and slammed and locked the door. Gabe knocked and knocked, but she wouldn’t answer.
So I left the house and drove around. Sometimes it seems like I live in this truck. Like it’s the only place that’s really mine. I listen to the radio. I hate the talk shows. People blabbing on and on.
I find some song I like and crank up the volume until the music’s screaming in my mind. The windshield’s rattling and the steering wheel’s shaking, I go faster and faster, and it’s like anything could happen, the truck could blow up or the world could explode.
Shadow Man Page 4