Seeing the photos stirred an emotional pandemonium. She stared for a long while, tracing her finger over the photos. “I wish I’d had pictures of us.”
“I stuck copies in one of the letters I sent.”
“Yeah…the ones I never got…”
“We could scan them for you, right, Mom?” Edy offered.
“That’d be awesome,” Riley said. “I’d really appreciate that.”
As if picking up on a shift in Riley’s mood, or maybe just a change in countenance, Fiona returned her attention to the turtles. “Hard to believe they’re twenty years old, isn’t it? Look at them smelling you!”
Gomez sniffed her like a dog as she climbed up, balancing on her thigh, while Morticia ran her nose along Riley’s bare knee. Riley stroked their necks. “They can’t possibly remember me.”
“I wouldn’t think so. But they’re always cautious around new people. If they see a face they don’t recognize, they withdraw into their shells.”
“It’s true.” Edy glanced up at her mother and giggled. “But look how cool they are with Riley. They must remember her.”
“I was seventeen years old the last time they saw me. Judging from these pictures, I’ve changed a lot since then.”
“But your scent, the chemistry of your skin hasn’t changed.” Fiona smiled. “Who knows? Somewhere in those reptilian brains they obviously sense something familiar about you.”
“I like to think so.”
Edy laid the album in the grass and jumped up. “You wanna feed them?”
“Honey, no, not now,” Fiona said. “They just had tomatoes and grapes. Riley is hungrier than they are. Another time, okay? Put that album back where you found it and get your life jacket.”
“Okay, Mom.”
“I have three vests in the car,” Riley said, “but if Edy has her own smaller one, that would be better.” She handed Morticia to Fiona, got up with Gomez, and helped put them back in the pen, wondering where they’d been the other night. “Do they sleep indoors?”
“Yep. I take them in at dusk. Even though they’re too big to be carried away, I don’t trust the foxes or raccoons not to gnaw on them. Or the coyotes,” she added.
At the mention of coyotes, Riley guiltily averted her eyes.
“My coyote wouldn’t hurt them,” Edy said as she went into the house.
Fiona rolled her eyes at Riley. “I’m not too sure about that.”
Riley waved good-bye to the turtles and followed Fiona back inside. “Thank you for this very special reunion.”
Fiona grabbed the cooler as they passed back through the kitchen and headed out the front door. One of the backseats was down to accommodate the long kayak paddles. Riley rested the cooler on top and left the door open for Edy, who came running out with her life jacket and binoculars. Riley smiled to herself. Edy was Fiona’s mini-me, for sure.
“Hey, you know what?” Edy said as she climbed in the back seat. “Your car looks like a humongous black wood turtle.”
“Yeah? How so?”
“It’s all shiny black and bright yellow with the kayaks on top.”
Riley stuck her lip out, pretending to give the idea serious consideration. “Hm. So that would make my car a Subaru funerea?”
“Gee. I don’t know if I like the sound of that.” Fiona looked over at her from the passenger seat. “But if Subaru was in the business of making hearses, it would be a perfect name for the model.”
Riley laughed.
“Let’s just call it the turtle-mobile,” Edy said.
“I like that.” Riley winked at Fiona, then started the engine and looked at Edy in the rearview mirror. “And let me tell you, this baby can move a lot faster than those slowpokes in the pen.”
Riley pulled out of the driveway and drove a mile before turning onto a dirt road.
“I thought we were going to the lake,” Fiona said.
“We are. But we’re driving around to the back. You’ll see. Not many people know about it, but the animals do. It’s where all the egrets and herons come to fish. Lots of turtles, too. We’ll see more wildlife. I promise.”
The road was steep and rocky, overgrown in parts. Riley downshifted, and for the rest of the ride the car crept steadily forward at about the speed of, well…a turtle.
The backwater was dense with vegetation. They slid the two kayaks in, disrupting a swarm of iridescent dragonflies hovering over water lilies that spread their large green pads across the surface. Yellow cuplike flowers floated on heavy stalks, blending with the watery blooms of lotus and purple pickerelweed.
Before they pushed off, Fiona opened the cooler and handed Riley her sandwich and a bottle of water. “You might want to keep these with you.”
Riley’s eyes widened. “Is it okay if I take a bite right now?”
“Knock yourself out.”
“Thanks, because my stomach can’t stop thinking about that home-baked bread.”
Riley opened the foil and took a big bite of the still-warm sandwich. “Oh, my God…this is the best!” She chewed and swallowed, then took one more bite before closing the foil and brushing off her hands. “Okay, that’ll hold me. Ready?”
“Ready,” said Edy, who sat in front of Fiona. They pushed off as quietly as they could, slicing through the glassy surface of nature’s aquatic garden and taking in a panoramic view of the afternoon’s glory as they paddled out.
It was three o’clock, and thankfully the heat wasn’t as oppressive as it had been earlier in the day. Fluffy white cumulus clouds hung low in a sky as blue as the eyes of her two companions. A hawk glided silently overhead, and from the surrounding woods came the calls of ravens raising a ruckus over something or other. Riley made good on her promise. Edy got to see egrets and great blue herons spearing fish in knee-deep water. A group of painted turtles was basking on a partially submerged log jutting out from the shore, and right away Edy rested her paddle across the kayak and grabbed her binoculars while her mother steered from behind. Riley looked over at Fiona, and even though they both wore sunglasses, Riley could feel the intensity of her stare.
“Thank you for this reprieve,” Fiona said.
“And thank you for preparing this repast. I’m going to have to finish that sandwich soon.”
“Then let’s hug the shore and do that.”
They crossed the lake, paddled into a patch of cattails, and floated without drifting while they ate.
“This place is great,” Edy said, and then something caught her eye. “Hey, look,” She let out in a loud whisper. “A snake!”
And there it was, a northern water snake swimming along the bank. “Wow, that’s a big one,” Fiona said.
“Which are smarter,” Riley asked, “snakes or turtles?”
“Turtles,” Edy said immediately.
Riley turned to Fiona for confirmation, and Fiona nodded. “She’s right. The cobra might be an exception, but turtles are smarter. Maybe because their lives are more involved. I suppose every animal is as smart as it needs to be.”
“Hmm…it’s amazing, isn’t it, how everything knows what it needs to know to survive.” But surviving and living were two different things, and it tore Riley up to think that Fiona was only surviving—a captive in a way—and not free to really live at all.
While they ate, Riley asked Edy about her new school—what she liked about it and what her favorite subjects were—but Edy seemed more interested in knowing more about Riley.
“Where do you live?” she asked.
“Not far from here.”
“In a house?”
“Yep.”
“Are you married?”
“Edy!” Fiona said. “Where are your manners?”
Riley laughed. “It’s okay. No, I’m not married, Edy.”
“You live alone?”
“I do.”
“Do you have any pets?”
Riley decided to bait her. “Just the coyotes who live on my property.”
“Really?” Edy’s face
lit up. “Do you see them?”
“All the time.”
“I have a coyote, too.”
“Yeah, you mentioned that,” Riley said. “Tell me more about him.”
“It’s a girl.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do. She’s beautiful. And very smart. She listens to me pray at night, and then we talk.”
“She talks?”
“Well, not out loud, but she understands my words, and I kind of hear what she’s thinking. We communicate with each other.”
Fiona shot Riley a look of concern.
“Does your dad know about your coyote?” Riley asked.
“No way!”
“Why not?”
“He’d kill her.”
“How?”
“He’d shoot her…or set a trap…like he’s planning on doing anyway.”
Fiona looked more uncomfortable than concerned now. She squirmed, adjusting herself in the kayak seat. “I know what you’re thinking. How could I ever be with someone who hunts for sport, right? It’s so against my beliefs…but I didn’t know he was a sport hunter when we got married,” she said, as though ashamed and exonerating herself.
“Has he done a lot of trapping?” she asked, hoping to estimate Jim’s skill level.
“Not much. Hunting, mostly. You know how the property is in Lenox. The houses are lakefront, and there isn’t much private land around them. But after moving here and clearing out his uncle’s stuff, well…he’s suddenly gung-ho about fur trapping. It’s very upsetting for me and Edy, but we’re not in a position to argue.”
“I hate him,” Edy said. Riley expected Fiona to come to Jim’s defense and say something like you shouldn’t hate your father, or that’s not a Christian thing to say, but she kept quiet.
Talking about Jim and their strained family relations was only causing tensions to rise. Fiona had seemed so relaxed, and Riley didn’t want to ruin their outing. “Well, don’t worry too much about that coyote,” she said to Edy. “Your new friend might end up outsmarting your dad. Coyotes are clever, you know. They don’t call them tricksters for nothing.” And then, as if on cue, a gaggle of honking geese flew in, giving Riley an opportunity to quickly change the subject. “Whoa! Look at the geese flying in.” She pointed to the middle of the lake where the birds came down with their wings held out, feet skidding across the water.
“That’s so amazing,” Fiona said, as happy as Riley for the distraction. “They look like planes on a landing strip.” And like old times, Fiona couldn’t resist calling out to the birds in their language.
She’d always been great with duck and turkey imitations, and her honks weren’t half bad. The sounds coming out of her made Riley crack up. “I don’t recall you ever honking.”
“Honking and hinking,” Fiona said.
“Hinking?”
“Yes. That’s how you speak goose. They honk and hink. Like this.” Fiona called to them again, and when they answered back, Riley laughed even harder.
“Let’s paddle out to them,” Edy said.
“Yeah, come on, Fiona. I’ll race you two.”
Fiona shot her that old familiar look that told her all bets were on. They’d just finished eating, and Fiona quickly stuffed their garbage in the cooler.
“Hurry up, Mom.”
“Okay, okay. I’m hurrying.”
Riley paddled out first. She looked back at Fiona, her lips in the shape of an O, and started cooing like a pigeon for old time’s sake. Now it was Fiona’s turn to laugh, and she laughed so hard the kayak went in a circle.
“Mom! Pay attention.”
“Aye aye, Captain.” Fiona grinned at Riley, working hard to catch up.
Riley slowed down, and just as the other kayak came up alongside her, she heard Fiona quacking. Riley quacked back. Edy looked between them and rolled her eyes. “You two act like kids. No wonder you were best friends. You’re two peas in a pod.”
“Yep. That was us. Two peas in a pod.” Riley looked across to Fiona. “But then the pod broke, and the two peas rolled their separate ways.”
“More like someone tore the pod apart and threw the peas in opposite directions,” Fiona said under her breath.
When they reached the middle of the lake, they stopped paddling, content to float and quietly observe the geese and the splendor of the dwindling day. The breeze was soft, the afternoon sun sparkling like diamonds on the rippling water. Fiona was leaning back on her elbows now, her head to the sky, the warmth of the sun on her face. With sunglasses on, it was hard to tell if her eyes were open or closed. Riley sighed contentedly, her thoughts drifting along with the kayak. She felt like she was in a wonderful dream. And this had always been her dream—to be with Fiona again.
It seemed that Fiona was having the same thought, because in a low, soothing voice she broke the silence and began to sing. “Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily…life is but a dream.”
The words hit Riley with the intensity of an epiphany. Row, row, row your boat…gently down the stream…Such a simple song, but the lyrics seemed somehow instructional, like an owner’s manual for enjoying the ride of life. The message held a hidden wisdom that struck a deep chord in Riley. How many times had she sung the song as a kid? But today as Fiona sang, she was hearing it, really hearing it, for the first time. Life was but a dream, wasn’t it? A dream that was over before we knew it. So what was the point in fretting, fighting the current, forcing your way upstream? Taking life too seriously would only weigh you down, sink your boat in the end.
The sound of Edy joining in pulled Riley from her private thoughts.
“Sing with us,” she said. And Riley did, the geese and egrets and great blue herons lifting their heads in response to the serenade echoing on the lake.
Maybe the song was meant to tell us that a well-lived life was all about attitude, about enjoying the dream, taking things in stride. About letting go and allowing ourselves the wonder and merriment of the ride downstream. That’s what she wanted to do for Fiona and Edy—end the nightmare, turn their boat around, so that they could go gently and merrily down that stream…in this life that was but a dream.
Chapter Nine
The big red rig thundered down the dirt road. A common sight along scenic Route 23, which ran between Massachusetts and New York, but not so much on these tertiary back roads. Not unless they were making deliveries. Riley pulled over, hugging the shoulder of the narrow road, expecting the driver to acknowledge the courtesy with a wave as he passed. But the asshole didn’t. He blew past, glancing down at her from his higher position in the cab of the truck, his face stone-cold—like his size entitled him to hog the road as it rumbled by. Riley recognized him right away. It was Jim.
She checked the time. Six o’clock. Fiona wasn’t expecting him back until late tonight. Riley had dropped them off only minutes ago, and she worried what would happen when he arrived unexpectedly and saw the cooler and Edy’s lifejacket. Fiona had admitted that he didn’t like her socializing. How crazy was it that a grown-ass woman couldn’t do as she pleased in her husband’s absence? But then again, Jim was crazy. Maybe he didn’t fit the legal definition of insane, which would simply mean knowing right from wrong, but clinically speaking, he had a combined personality disorder: narcissistic and antisocial. In laymen’s terms, Jim Barrett was a fucking nut job.
Riley kept her foot on the brake and dialed Fiona’s number.
“It’s me,” she said when Fiona answered. “Is your husband’s truck red?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I just passed him.”
“How would you know?”
“Uh…you said he drove a rig, and one’s headed down your road right now.”
“But I’m not expecting him for another few—” Panic filled her voice. “I gotta go,” she said and hung up without saying good-bye.
A feeling of dread rose in Riley. She made a U-turn and sped up, passing the truck as it turned into the long driveway. She continued until she fou
nd a break in the tree line, then veered off into a patch of weeds. Jumping out, she stuffed her keys and cell phone into the pockets of her shorts and rushed through the woods as fast as she could. She would have made better time on all fours, but at least she knew the land.
Riley came up behind the house in time to hear the truck door slam. At least her human height would allow her to see in the windows without having to put her paws on the sills. But it was still daylight. Getting caught on the property was the last thing she needed. What would she say? That she was a visiting Jehovah’s Witness? In her present attire and without even a piece of literature to distribute, he’d never go for it. Better to start shouting, “Fido! Fido!” and pretend she was a neighbor searching for her lost dog.
Jim pounded up the creaky porch steps, one-two-three-four, which might as well have been Fee-fi-fo-fum. The television hummed through the open windows, and when she heard the squeak of the front door open and close, she tiptoed up the porch steps and over to the living-room window. Edy sat cross-legged on the floor facing the television, watching a nature documentary, from the look of things. Her back was to the window, and one of the turtles stood in front of her, eating grapes from her hand. And then Jim came into view.
“Hey!” he said.
It seemed that Edy, perhaps out of necessity, had become quite the little actress. She swung her head around in surprise, as though pretending to have been so thoroughly absorbed in her program she hadn’t even heard him come in. “Hi, Daddy! You got back early.”
“Where’s your mother?” he asked without answering her.
“I’m here,” Fiona called. Riley couldn’t see much of the kitchen through the short hallway, just the refrigerator and the corner of the stove, and then Fiona came out looking frazzled.
Coyote Blues Page 18