Night Light

by Terri Blackstock

  “Does he know their money was stolen?”

  “Who knows?”

  They watched the two men talking. Mark seemed to be trying to turn the man away.

  Craig got to his feet as Moe waved Mark’s concerns away and headed into the Brannings’ yard. He wavered slightly, and she realized he was drunk. Mark got out of his car and grabbed Moe’s arm, but he jerked away and kept walking toward her. “Get ready,” she told Craig. “There might be a fight.”

  Craig seemed ready, but she opened the front door and called her dad.

  In seconds, Doug was out the door, clutching his rifle. They watched as Moe staggered toward them.

  “What do you want, Moe?” Doug asked from the porch.

  “I told you the other day, I want my kids.”

  “They’re not your kids,” Doug said. “Besides, their money’s gone. It was stolen from them. We never got it, so if that’s what you’re after, you can just turn around and go home.”

  “I believe it was stolen from ’em,” he slurred, “but you’re the one stole it. Now you can cough it up or I can come in and get it myself, along with my daughter.”

  “I told you I don’t have it,” Doug said. “That neighbor of theirs, Edith, wound up taking their money, and then it got stolen from her. If you want it, you can follow the trail of thugs. But it’s not here.” He cocked his rifle and lifted the barrel. “So you need to go on, now.”

  Mark had followed Moe into the yard. “Come on, man. I’ll give you a ride somewhere.”

  “I ain’t going nowhere without my kid,” he said. “Bring her out. She’s my flesh and blood, and I want her.”

  Deni wanted to punch him. “Why? There’s not another disbursement for three months. Just leave her alone.”

  “You leave her alone. She’s mine!”

  “You’re not getting her,” Doug said through his teeth. “Now get off of my property before I get mad.”

  For a moment, Deni thought Moe might call her dad’s bluff. She had no doubt that he would shoot if he had to. She just hoped Moe wasn’t armed. Craig moved closer to the door.

  Even though the gun was aimed in his direction, Mark only moved closer to Moe. Touching his shoulder, Mark said, “Come on, pal. Let’s go now. Nice and easy.” Moe stood stiff as a statue, refusing to move. His eyes were locked with Doug’s.

  “Don’t make me shoot you,” Doug said. “It would be a waste of perfectly good ammo.”

  Deni reached for Craig’s hand. His palm was sweating. Moe held her father’s angry gaze for a moment, then finally let out a breath. He took a step back and pointed at Doug. “All right, I’m going, but I’ll be back.” Mark kept his hand on his back as he escorted him back to his rig.

  He opened the car door and Moe climbed in. As the horse pulled them away, they finally relaxed.

  Craig looked at Doug. “You think he’ll be back?”

  “Oh, I think so,” Doug said. “I don’t think we’ve heard the last of him, especially when there are more disbursements coming.”

  Doug stood watching until Moe was out of sight. Deni and Craig waited on the porch, and before long, Mark rode back into the neighborhood. He pulled in front of the Brannings’ house and Deni leaned in his window.

  “I dropped him off at a produce stand. He was a little tipsy. I know how he spent his disbursement.”

  “Thanks for taking him away,” she said. “We appreciate it.”

  “No problem. But don’t let your guard down. He’ll be back.”

  He held Deni’s gaze for a moment. She looked down, confused by the warmth rushing to her face. She felt guilty, as if she’d somehow cheated. She wondered if she should tell Craig that she and Mark had kissed.

  “Let me know if you need me again,” Mark said softly. “I’ll do whatever I can.”

  “I think we’ve got it covered.”

  Deni jumped. She hadn’t realized that Craig had followed her to the curb. His remark was thick with ownership, but Mark let it roll off him.

  “Well, I’ll see you guys later.”

  “Thanks, Mark. See you later.” Deni watched as he pulled away.

  After a moment, she looked back at Craig. He was watching her watch Mark. For a moment, she fully expected him to ask if there was something going on between the two of them. If he did, she’d have to tell him the truth.

  But suddenly the door across the street flew open and Eloise’s son flew out of her house. “Help!” he cried. “Help! Somebody get the doctor! Mama’s not breathing.”

  Deni took off running. “I’ll go get Derek,” she cried, and ran through the yard to the doctor’s house.

  As she ran, she prayed that Eloise could be revived.

  fifty-two

  ELOISE’S SON — WHO HAD SCARCELY DONE A THING FOR HER while she was alive — built her coffin with his own hands. He got permission to bury her at a graveyard two miles away next to a church, and dozens of people from the neighborhood joined them in the walking processional to the burial.

  Doug, Jeff, Brad, and two neighbors served with Clark as the pallbearers. They carried the coffin to the grave site with a borrowed horse and wagon. Kay made everyone dress up as much as they could, even the Gatlin children. She’d pulled old clothes out of the closet until she’d found something suitable for a funeral. And not just anyone’s funeral, but Eloise’s. She deserved their best.

  Because Eloise’s preacher was too far away, Doug conducted the service at graveside. Doug and Brad had dug the hole earlier that day, and they lowered the casket with ropes. Doug centered his funeral sermon on the Scripture that said, “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints,” and he read from Revelation 21 and 22 about heaven — which, he explained, Eloise was experiencing now. He told of all the times they’d talked about her love for Jesus and the fact that she had no doubt in her mind where she would be when she died.

  “It was no big deal for Eloise to lose her electricity and car, her telephone, her air-conditioning. Her cancer diagnosis had taught her what was really important. And when it came to giving up her life, well, that was fine too. She had surrendered it to Christ a long time ago. And now she has it back.”

  Craig stood next to Deni, acting the part of a quiet mourner as they lowered her into the grave.

  Doug asked each of them to grab a handful of dirt and toss it onto the coffin. Deni held little Sarah’s hand as the little girl stooped to get a handful.

  “Throw it in now, Sarah,” she instructed softly.

  Sarah dropped the dirt in. “Asha to asha, dirt to dirt.”

  Deni looked down at the child. She had said that before, when they’d had the little memorial for her mother. She had wondered then where she’d gotten that saying, but so much had been going on that she hadn’t had time to think about it more. Aaron had suggested she’d learned it on TV, but was that true? She was three years old. How many of the programs had she watched that had funerals? And how would she remember such an obscure reference?

  She made a mental note to ask her about it later and see if she could get Sarah to tell her where she’d learned it.

  Clark wept as his mother’s friends told him sweet stories about her life.

  Eloise had left an important legacy. Deni hoped her son was man enough to embrace it.

  “SO WHAT DID YOU THINK OF THE SERVICE?” DENI ASKED CRAIG AS they walked home.

  He shrugged. “It was okay. Your dad did a good job. I guess you have to say something when someone dies.”

  Deni glanced up at him. “Dad was telling the truth, Craig. He was speaking from his heart.”

  “Yeah, I guess he was.” He took her hand in his. “I guess some people just need something to believe in.”

  Deni was quiet for a moment. They’d had this conversation before, but not since she’d had her own transformation.

  “You don’t believe in anything?”

  “I believe in myself.”

  She looked at the black-top road as they walked. “I thought that ma
ybe the outage had changed things. It did for me.”

  He snickered. “If anything, it solidified my views. If there were a loving God, how could he allow something like this?”

  “My dad thinks he allowed it because he is a loving God,” Deni said. “That he was trying to get our attention and wake us up.”

  “For what?”

  “To make us dependent on him.”

  Craig laughed. “Well, that would be worthless, since we’re still in the dark no matter who we’re depending on.”

  Deni grew quiet for a moment. She looked up ahead, saw Mark picking up little Luke and setting him on his shoulders.

  “But God’s provided for us in so many ways,” Deni said. “I mean, we’ve got this beautiful house to live in, we’ve got a well, we’ve got a place to plant some food, even if it’s not very much. We have neighbors and friends and a whole community we really didn’t know before. And my family’s closer than ever. We’re learning things about ourselves that will make us better people.”

  “Yeah, and what about the people at that apartment complex? You think they have a lot of blessings too? And don’t you think they were already dependent?”

  “Maybe that’s why God sent us to them. We’re trying to help. Maybe that’s his way of providing. They’ve survived somehow all this time. I think God’s working in each of our lives, one by one. It may not be the same way in mine as it was in Aaron’s or Luke’s, but he’s working nonetheless. And he took care of the children that whole time.”

  “By making them steal? You think if there’s a God, he turned them into little criminals?”

  Deni knew she’d never win an argument with him. He was too good at what he did. But the thought saddened her. If she married him, she would never be able to share the thing that had become the most important to her — her faith. The Bible warned not to yoke oneself with unbelievers.

  She shoved that thought to the back of her mind. Sometimes God’s laws were hard to keep, even when she wanted to. Besides, maybe by the time they married, he would be a believer.

  She looked up ahead at Mark, loping with Luke on his shoulders. He related well to the Gatlin children, she thought. He knew what it was like to be the son of an outcast. Even Aaron liked him.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  Deni looked at Craig. “Sure. What?”

  “Do you and that Mark guy have something going on?”

  She tried to look shocked. “What do you mean? We’re just friends.”

  He regarded Mark, his eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. Every now and then I just get a feeling there’s something more between you two. He’s not the real reason you broke up with me, is he?”

  That was just like him, to avoid taking blame by finding ulterior motives. “No, Craig. The reason I broke up with you was because of your letters. I told you that.”

  “But while we were broken up, did anything happen with you two?”

  She was silent for a moment as she walked, but he didn’t take his eyes off her.

  “Deni, I asked you a question. I deserve an answer.”

  Finally, she stopped walking. “I was going to tell you,” she said, “and we were broken up. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  His face went slack. “What happened?”

  “It was just a kiss.”

  He groaned and took a step backward, shaking his head. “I should have known. Making me out to be the bad guy when all along — ”

  “I wrote and broke up with you before it happened, Craig. It wasn’t planned. We were at the dance celebrating the disbursement and the well coming in, and we danced. He walked me home … and we kissed. It was no big deal.”

  A red tint crept up his neck, to his ears, then made its way to his face. Whether it was from heat or anger, she wasn’t sure. He looked up ahead, watched Mark taking Luke off his back and setting him on the ground. Then he lifted Sarah.

  “I knew that guy had a crush on you.”

  She wanted to tell him that Mark was more mature than to have a crush on anyone, that their friendship was deep and abiding, and that he’d been there for her when Craig hadn’t. But she didn’t say any of those things.

  “Craig, you don’t have to worry. I think we were each as shocked as the other when we kissed. It hasn’t happened since. But now that you’re back, everything’s normal again, and I can tell that Mark’s already forgotten about it.”

  “Yeah, right.” His jaw twitched. “No big deal to you maybe, but it is to me.”

  “So what do you want to do? Break up again?”

  He shot her a look. “No, I don’t want to break up, Deni. I think I’ve made that clear.”

  They walked in silence for a block or two, and Deni dreaded what would happen now. She heard Sarah screaming with laughter on Mark’s shoulders, but she wouldn’t let herself look at them.

  Finally, Craig stopped again. “Look, nothing about this outage is normal. Let’s just … let’s never bring it up again. How about that?”

  Deni nodded, wondering if he could really do that. “Fine with me.”

  He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the sweat off his brow. “Do you think your dad has an extra razor?”

  “I think he does.”

  “Would he let me shave?”

  “Nope,” she said, trying to be funny. “He has a no-shave rule in our house.”

  He looked at her like he thought she was serious.

  “Kidding,” she said. “He’ll give you a razor.”

  He didn’t smile. “It’s been hot in Washington, but I think it’s hotter here. I think it’s time for this beard to come off.”

  She smiled. “I kinda like it.”

  “I liked it too,” he said, stroking it, “but it is really hot. Besides, I think I’d like to look in the mirror and see a lawyer instead of a hillbilly.”

  “Hillbillies aren’t the only ones with beards,” she said. “It’s a noble feature.” She wondered if his shaving had anything to do with Mark’s clean-cut features.

  As they turned into Oak Hollow and walked toward their house, Deni noticed the sheriff’s van sitting in front. Sheriff Scarbrough was on the porch talking to her parents, who must have just arrived home.

  As they approached, her parents led him inside.

  “We got the ballistics report back on the murder weapon,” he was saying in a low voice. “It was a .38, just as we thought. But Aaron’s stolen gun isn’t the only one we’re dealing with. Turns out Edith Stuart’s gun was a .38 too.”

  Kay gasped. “Are you going to arrest her?”

  “Already did, for robbery. She’s in jail as we speak.”

  “Why not murder?”

  “Because first we have to know the bullets we found in Jessie came from Edith’s gun. If they did, we can charge her with homicide.”

  Deni hadn’t expected that. Edith was conniving, but she didn’t seem homicidal.

  “But what would be her motive?” Kay asked. “Jessie didn’t have any money. She didn’t have anything.”

  “We’re still working on that,” he said. “We’re hoping maybe the kids can help us.”

  “Sure,” Kay said. “Come on in. We’ll sit out back and you can talk to them there.”

  They gathered the Gatlin children around the patio table. Luke and Sarah sat together in the same chair, still dressed in their funeral clothes. Aaron stood with his arms crossed, like a sentinel guarding state secrets. Joey slumped in the chair next to him. Deni and Craig stood in the doorway, listening as her parents led the conversation.

  “Aaron,” Doug said, “Sheriff Scarbrough needs to ask you some questions.”

  Aaron’s face tightened. “Okay.”

  Scarbrough set his foot on a chair and leaned on his knee. “Aaron, could you tell me if your mom had any kind of quarrel with Edith Stuart?”

  “What’s a quarrel?” Aaron asked.

  “Did they fight or argue or anything like that?”

  Aaron glanced over at Joey and t
hey both shook their heads. “Sometimes. Not any more than anybody else.”

  “Was there anything of your mother’s that Edith wanted?”

  “She wanted our money,” Joey said, “and she took it, that’s what.”

  “No, I mean before the disbursement, when your mother was still living.”

  “They didn’t get along real well,” Aaron said. “Sometimes Edith screamed at my mom to make us shut up ’cause we made too much noise. Our TV was always too loud, Edith said.”

  “But sometimes it was her,” Joey said. “Edith liked to play music really loud too, and she would have parties with people coming and going all night.”

  “The last time you saw your mother, had they had any kind of a fight?”

  “I don’t think so.” Aaron squinted up at him. “Why are you asking us all these questions?”

  “Because we’re trying to find your mother’s killer.”

  “And you think she did it?”

  “She prob’ly did,” Joey piped in. “Anybody who’d take our money like that, she probably is a killer. You should lock her up and never let her out.”

  “She is locked up right now,” Scarbrough said. “I found a gun that’s the same kind of gun that shot your mother, and we’re working on proving that it’s the one that killed her. There are a lot of guns like that and a lot of people own them … including you. Despite our suspicions about Edith, it would still help us a lot to know where yours came from.”

  Aaron looked down at his feet. “I told you. It was in a Dumpster. But Edith probably is the one who killed Mama. She’s mean as a snake.”

  Scarbrough didn’t seem convinced. “Aaron, this is very important. People don’t generally throw their guns in Dumpsters, and it seems odd that you would happen upon it like that. Why would you be digging in that particular Dumpster? Did you see the person who threw it there?”

  “I dug in that one all the time, even before the Pulses. It was behind the pizza place, and sometimes they threw away hot pizza.”

  “But why would you have been looking through it after the outage, when the pizza store was closed?”

  Aaron’s cheeks flushed. “I thought …” He glanced at Joey. His brother’s eyes were on his own hands. “Well … it was before the outage that I found it.”