by Tracy Krauss
With a sigh, Rachel turned the knob, pasting on a plastic smile as the door swung open. “Well, hello, Mrs. Beatry.”
“Hello, dearie. I was just checking to make sure that Stanley cleaned up all his mess in your apartment. He was down doing some work on that plumbing. You know, dear, the trouble you were having with the drain? And I needed to be sure he didn't leave any mess behind. My, that man can make a mess, now and again, when he chooses to!” She clucked her tongue.
“I see,” Rachel said, miffed that Mrs. Beatry had been in her apartment without notice—again. “I didn’t notice anything out of order.”
“Wonderful,” Mrs. Beatry beamed. She stepped across the threshold. “Of course, he’s had quite the time since his wife up and left him. I don't know what she ever saw in that other fellow. Quite scandalous, you know. They were carrying on right under poor Stanley's nose. And now they have the nerve to live right here in Marshdale, just two blocks down from her old home. Imagine!” Mrs. Beatry clucked again. She had followed Rachel into her kitchen and was now sitting at the table.
Rachel automatically put the kettle on. Mrs. Beatry was quite capable of carrying on without any comment from her.
“Of course, you've probably met the poor waifs. Little what's-his-name. Rather chubby little fellow. And the little girl. Hmm. I can't quite remember her name either. A pathetic little thing, really. I tried to teach her piano once, but her mother complained about too much practicing and pulled her out. Quite a shame. She might have had potential.” Mrs. Beatry took a pensive sip of the tea that Rachel placed before her.
“Of course, that was just after the breakup. That Alice. I never did like her much. And poor, poor Stanley. Such a nice, hardworking fellow. Of course, he's much better off now with his new woman. She moved out here from Regina. I'm not sure how he met her. But she seems pleasant enough and has certainly done a world of good for Stanley! I just wish they'd get married properly. Why, people think nothing of just shacking up, these days. Now, in my day, it was a disgrace. I remember when old man McKinley shacked up with his housekeeper. Well, I heard about it—I wasn’t actually here at the time. But in any case, such a scandal! Of course, nowadays, people think nothing of just swapping with one another right and left. A regular Sodom and Gomorrah, it’s become.”
Rachel listened with one ear as Mrs. Beatry prattled on. What a gossip! She’d have to be extra careful. “Um, sorry to interrupt, but I have somewhere to go,” Rachel finally interjected.
“This time of day?” Mrs. Beatry asked, her brows descending in a worried V.
“Yes,” Rachel nodded and closed her mouth. She wasn’t about to say more. It wasn’t a lie, really. She did need to go somewhere—away from Mrs. Beatry.
“That’s a shame,” Mrs. Beatry said. “We were having such a nice visit, too. Normally I have a piano student this evening, but they had to cancel last minute. Oh well.” Mrs. Beatry hoisted herself from the chair and continued another story on her way out the door.
With a sigh of relief, Rachel leaned against the door once the elderly lady was gone. She couldn’t just stay inside, since she’d said she had somewhere to be. A walk would probably clear her head. The sun hadn’t fully set yet, and the evenings were still relatively warm. She donned a light jacket and headed out the back door. The air was fresh and clear, with the lingering hint of grain dust from the ongoing harvest.
She took her favorite path past the schoolyard and out to the edge of town. She was beginning to love the sights and sounds of the prairie. A symmetrical pattern of swathed grain wound up and down the fields, while a still un-harvested sea of grain swayed in gently waving ripples as the wind brushed past. If she listened intently enough, she could almost imagine the whispered nuances of a voice echoing out across the land. Overhead, a flock of geese announced their departure for warmer climates with a barrage of honking. Rachel watched as the V-formation flew out of sight.
Standing like silent sentinels against the setting sun were two large grain elevators—prairie skyscrapers that once graced every skyline, but were now being replaced with more efficient centralized terminals. Only one of Marshdale’s elevators was still in operation. Apparently, the other was scheduled for demolition sometime in the near future.
She was struck with how very alien this was compared to what she had left behind. The quiet was deafening. Instead of the steady hum of traffic, she could hear a single dog bark, answered by the distant yelp of another. A chorus of croaking frogs mingled with the chirp of crickets coming from a slough on the edge of town. It was a different world.
Strangest of all, Rachel realized, was the fact that she was out walking alone when it was almost dark. It was something she certainly would not have considered doing in Toronto. But here she felt safe.
As she walked along the edge of the gravel road running west of town, she heard the sound of an approaching vehicle and looked back to see the telltale cloud of dust in the distance. The vehicle, a beat up blue and rust pickup truck, slowed as it passed her. To her surprise, the driver pulled over to the side and waited. Rachel felt sudden panic. What should she do? Here she was, alone on a deserted gravel road, with dusk approaching. She decided to pick up her pace. With head held high, she walked past the truck without as much as a glance.
“Hey, Missie,” drawled the driver out the window. “You need a lift?”
“No, thank you,” Rachel called back, trying to sound confident. Why, oh why hadn't she taken up karate with her sister Tiffany?
The truck pulled up beside her again and rolled along at a crawl as the driver continued, "No trouble. Where you headed?"
Rachel glanced over at the man, and quickly looked away as her stomach lurched into her throat. He looked dirty and unkempt with a day’s growth of stubble darkening his chin. A textbook predator if she ever imagined one!
Just then another vehicle approached from the same direction. The first man picked up speed and drove away. The second vehicle pulled up alongside her. Rachel was afraid she might burst into tears until the occupant of the vehicle spoke. "Are you all right? Do you need a ride somewhere?"
She stopped in her tracks and swung around to face the driver. Overwhelming relief mingled with embarrassment flooded her at one and the same time. Con McKinley leaned across the seat and opened the passenger door from the inside and Rachel climbed silently in, not yet trusting herself to speak.
“I thought a city girl like you would know better than to walk around after dark by herself.”
“I thought…I mean, I assumed it was safe here.”
“I like to think so. To a degree. But that doesn't mean you should be careless.” Con glanced over at Rachel, but she made no reply.
She was struggling with herself, afraid that she might actually burst into tears after all, and feeling very foolish for such an overreaction. Especially in his presence.
“Good thing I happened along. I don't think old Bart would have hurt you, though. What did he say?”
“Nothing. He just offered me a ride.”
“That's probably all he intended.”
“Probably?” Rachel asked, her voice rising.
“Bart's a drunk. No doubt about that. But a fairly harmless drunk. He was probably just heading into the hotel, where he spends most of his evenings. He likely didn't know who you were. Maybe he thought it was his lucky day,” Con grinned in her direction.
“Well, thank you, anyway. For rescuing me, so to speak.” She knew he probably couldn't see the deepening blush that was spreading over her face, but she turned to look out the window anyway.
“No problem. It's not every day I get to rescue a damsel in distress. In fact, they're few and far between around this neck of the woods.”
“You must think me very naïve,” Rachel said.
“No. I guess it would seem logical that you wouldn't feel the same sense of danger out here. I know for myself I hate the city. It makes me feel claustrophobic.”
“Really?”
“Well
, not that bad, I guess. I enjoy going to the city once in a while. And I had fun there during my university days. But I always feel a sense of relief once I get back home.”
“You went to university? Where?"
“Saskatoon. College of Agriculture.”
“Agriculture? You mean you can go to university to learn to be a farmer?”
Con laughed, “There's more to farming than sitting on the seat of a tractor. It's a high tech industry these days. If we hope to keep up with the rest of the world, we'd better realize that.”
“Oh. I suppose so.”
“This is where you wanted to get dropped off?” Con asked as he pulled up in front of Mrs. Beatry's house.
“Oh, yes thanks.”
“Remember, no more wandering around alone after dark,” Con cautioned. “If the town drunk doesn't get you, the coyotes might.”
“Coyotes?” Rachel asked, her eyes widening.
Con laughed outright at the look on her face. “You mean you haven't heard them?”
“You mean that howling?”
“Of course I mean that howling. What did you think it was?”
“I don't know. Are they dangerous?”
“Not really. I've never known one to attack a human. But they are wild animals and quite plentiful around these parts. I'd just be a little more cautious from now on if I were you.”
“Well, thanks again. For the ride and for the advice,” Rachel said as she went to open the door of the vehicle. “Oh no!” she exclaimed suddenly.
“What?” Con asked.
“I just saw Mrs. Beatry's curtains move! Now we'll both be fodder for her gossip mill for sure!”
Con just chuckled. “Could be worse.”
Rachel glanced at him in the now darkened cab. She didn't know what to make of that last remark. “Well, thanks again,” she said as she climbed out of the truck.
He tipped his hat as he drove away, leaving Rachel to stare dumbly after him for a few seconds. With a sigh, she glanced once more at Mrs. Beatry's living room window, before opening her own door and retreating to the relative safety of her apartment.
Chapter Seven
Ryder stood waiting beside the bike racks. He kicked a golf ball-sized stone and watched as it rattled along a few feet in front of him, stirring up a small cloud of dust in its wake. The school buses were just rolling away, crunching the gravel as they passed. He was waiting for his sister. He should probably just go inside, but she was always so slow and he didn’t feel like going indoors.
“Get away from my bike!”
Ryder swiveled to see the same freckled boy who had taunted them a few days ago on their way home from school. “Sorry,” he mumbled, pushing off from the rack and heading in the direction of the school.
“Probably trying to steal it.” The boy’s companion smirked.
Head down, his ears burning, Ryder entered the building. He met Whisper in the hall, smiling widely as she skipped to meet him.
“Hang on a sec,” he cautioned, surveying the landscape before opening the large, double doors.
“What ya lookin’ for?” Whisper asked.
“Nothing,” Ryder clipped. “Come on.”
They walked a few paces, Whisper chattering constantly about her day, while Ryder swept their surroundings with his gaze. He hadn’t told his dad about the other day and he didn’t want a repeat incident.
“Hey, Ryder!” a voice called.
Ryder felt his insides freeze but he kept on walking. They’d almost reached the power poles at the edge of the school grounds. He grabbed Whisper’s hand and forced her to walk a bit faster. “Quit being so slow,” he said between clenched teeth.
“Ryder, over here,” the voice called again. “It’s me, Billy.”
Ryder stopped in his tracks. Relief tingled through his body. He really needed to get a grip. It had only been a week and he was already letting some bullies get the best of him. Ryder turned to see Billy Chang, one of the few friendly faces he’d met at school so far, trotting toward him. Not far behind were his sister Suzie, and another boy from his grade, Tyson McKinley.
“Hi, Ryder,” Suzie greeted. “You start your socials project yet?”
“Not yet,” Ryder responded. “Maybe this weekend.”
“This your sister?” Suzie asked.
Ryder nodded.
“My name is Whisper,” the little girl supplied. “And I’m in kindergarten.”
“I have a sister in kindergarten,” Tyson McKinley spoke. From what Ryder could tell so far, he was generally a shy sort.
“What’s her name?” Whisper asked.
“Lisa.”
“I know her,” Whisper nodded vigorously. “We’re friends.”
“Cool,” Tyson said.
“Don’t you usually take the bus home?” Ryder asked Tyson.
“Stayin’ in town for Youth,” Tyson answered.
“There’s a bottle drive tonight,” Billy Chang rejoined the conversation. “You should come.”
Suzie groaned. “I hate getting all sticky and smelly from all those empties.”
“Too bad, sis,” Billy laughed.
“So? You want to come, Ryder?” Suzie asked.
“It’s actually kind of fun, despite what she says. You can hang out with us,” Billy offered.
“I’ll check with my dad,” Ryder responded.
“Can I come?” Whisper asked.
“No little kids allowed,” Ryder said, almost sternly. He looked over at the others for confirmation.
“Aw!” Whisper pouted.
“We’re meeting at Pastor Todd’s house,” Suzie explained. “It’s the light blue one just two doors down from the church on the corner.” She pointed in the general direction.
Ryder raised his brows slightly. “It’s a church youth group?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry,” Suzie was quick to add. “It’s lots of fun and things never get too, you know, religious. There are kids from every church that go and some that don’t even go to church at all.”
“Are you guys…” Ryder hesitated, suddenly feeling self-conscious, “Are you Christians?”
“Yep,” Billy answered without hesitation while Suzie just nodded. Tyson remained mute, but he didn’t deny it.
Suddenly Marshdale didn’t seem like such a foreign and unwelcoming place. “Me, too,” Ryder said with a slight twist to his lips.
“No kidding?” Suzie exclaimed. “Well, for sure, you’ll have to come, then. I can’t say that there are a lot of committed Christians at Youth, but there are a few of us. Speaking of which, is Bonita coming, Tyson?”
Tyson gave a derisive snort. “Who knows? Of course that’s what she tells Mom and Dad.”
“Bonita is Tyson’s older sister,” Suzie informed Ryder. “She’s in Billy’s grade. Oh look! There she is now.”
Bonita McKinley and her friend sauntered toward the small group.
“Who’s your friend?” Bonita asked, gesturing with her head at Ryder as she flipped her long blonde hair back off her shoulder.
“This is Ryder. He’s new in town. Ryder, meet Bonita and Shaylee,” Billy introduced.
“Cool,” Bonita shrugged, her manner indifferent. She turned to her brother Tyson. “I’m going to be late for the bottle drive ‘cause Mr. Friest is giving some of us girls some extra coaching at six.”
Tyson frowned. “You know what Mom and Dad said about missing Youth.”
Bonita rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m not ‘missing Youth,’ okay? I’m going to my volleyball practice. If we want to make it to the provincials this year we’ve got to practice.”
“Wow, I never heard anything about it,” Suzie commented, “and I’m on the team.”
Bonita gave the younger girl a withering look. “It’s just for some of us seniors,” she explained. She and Shaylee exchanged a meaningful glance.
“They’re not going to be happy,” Tyson said, frowning.
“Then don’t tell them,” Bonita snipp
ed. Beside her, Shaylee giggled. “I’ll still show up later on, after practice. You’ll either be at the recycling depot, or Pastor Todd’s, right?”
“Right,” Billy affirmed.
“You sure you’re not going to go to Silver Creek to the show?” Tyson asked. “I heard you talking earlier.”
“Shut up, will you?” Bonita glared. “I said I’d be there and I will, okay?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep her out of trouble,” Shaylee said sweetly. She flipped a strand of her streaked blonde hair out of her eyes and smiled.
Both older girls turned to leave, but as an afterthought, Bonita called over her shoulder, “Nice to meet you, Ryder.” They giggled and kept on walking, swaying their hips as they went.
“Sisters. Ugh,” Tyson commented under his breath.
Billy was still watching the girls’ retreating figures. “I don’t know. I think your sister just needs to get some of that rebellion out of her system. She’ll come around.”
“My goodness, aren’t you sounding like the wise old man,” Suzie teased.
“Ancient Chinese wisdom,” Billy grinned, tapping his head as he turned his gaze away from Bonita and her friend.
“Whatever,” Suzie laughed. “Anyway, we’ll see you tonight, Ryder.”
Ryder nodded. “Yeah. I’d better get going. I gotta get this sister home.”
With a wave, the young people parted ways.
****
Friday. Although Rachel had enjoyed her first week, it had definitely been exhausting. Upon reflection, things were running quite smoothly. As smoothly as could be expected when that many five-year-olds met together for an entire day. There were the usual minor mishaps—a scraped knee, disputes over a favorite toy, inevitable bathroom parades—but in general, she was pleased with the progress of her students thus far. Things were settling into a routine of sorts.
Grace entered Rachel’s classroom just as she was putting the last of her files away. “You ready?” she asked.