by Amity Green
Savannah put everything back where it was, pre-ransacking. When she put the bill organizer back where she’d found it, she noticed that drawer was very heavy and hard to push back in. The bill envelopes scraped along the top when she tried to close it. She pulled it out as far as it would go, looking for a keyhole. There wasn’t one, but the bottom of the drawer came loose and lifted out, revealing a hidey-hole of magazines and other man-goodies. The mag on top was missing the cover. She pulled it out and flipped a page, immediately wishing she hadn’t.
She couldn’t picture her dad sitting at his desk, looking at photos of people having sex. A couple more pages over, the content changed to two women shaving and bathing each other. The next two pages fell open to extreme close-ups of the two women engrossed in a whole lot of oral sex. She closed the magazine. The book under the first was just a Playboy with a pretty lady in a split skirt on the front but she didn’t want to know about the rest. A square, half full bottle of Jim Beam rested on one side in the far back of the compartment, snugged in between two stacks of VCR tapes. Jack Caleman came away from her discovery wearing a new image.
With shock still tingling, she put the drawer back together and stood up.
“Snooping?”
Savannah jumped at the sound of Witcher’s voice. He watched her, leaning against the wall by the hearth.
“Get lost.” She practiced breathing slow to calm the racing in her chest.
He came toward her, and she ran to the opposite side of the desk.
“You should know if I wanted to hurt you, I would. I’m not here to hurt you. It’s important that you succeed, Savannah.” Impatiently, he sent the wheeled chair careening to the side and grabbed the frame of their parents’ wedding photo.
“Leave that alone!” Savannah shot forward, grabbing at his hands. He held the picture over her head until she calmed down, then set it on the desk.
“Look.” He pointed to the wall where the hinged door of a safe appeared, tucked into a square cut-out in the thick wall. There was a dial for a combination and below it was the keyhole she’d searched for.
“Someday soon, you’ll understand that I love you. You’re welcome.” He dropped into one of the wingbacks on the other side of the desk.
Savannah did her best to ignore his presence and went about her search. The key fit the safe and the lock clicked twice. She turned a steel handle and opened the black door.
The safe was larger on the inside than the little hole in the wall gave credit to. If she tried, she might be able to touch the back of it with her arm extended the whole way. She dragged the desk lamp forward for light. The first thing inside was a silver pistol and a few boxes of .22 rounds.
A little box the bank used to send new checks was next and nearly empty, with only one book left in the bottom. She set it on the desk hurriedly. A file folder containing the title to her Toyota, the tractors and the ranch truck was next, along with the deed to the land and home at the Witcher Place. Another folder had the family’s birth certificates and everyone’s social security cards. She set those on the desk, too and reached for a flat box that rested beside them. Inside were more magazines, only the new ones had only men, naked with other men.
She sighed. “Will you please go do something else?”
Witcher had been watching her and now wore a look of utter amusement. He looked at the box of skin mags then got up, leaving the room with a smirk.
Savannah waited until he shut the door, then continued, not really sure what good it did for him to leave when he could watch what she did without being seen, himself. She shook it off and concentrated on the contents of the safe. There were two more books with men showing, on top of a layer of more black video tapes that only had bits of torn paper stuck where labels had once been.
“What?” she muttered. Could they be Mother’s? Her dad had kids with Mother and she wouldn’t let herself wonder about him feeling … otherwise. She thumbed through the last one, which happened to be missing the cover, too. She set them on the floor and went back to the safe. A purple Crown Royal sack held a heavy button of milled gold. Reaching way inside, she grabbed whatever was behind that and pulled out a banded roll of mixed bills, ranging from twenties to hundreds.
“Finally.” Cash was what should be in a safe, in her opinion, and there was more. Two short stacks of money against the back of the safe and random wads of cash that appeared to have been tossed inside when Dad was in a hurry to rat-hole money. That was a habit she wouldn’t complain about. The family had never gone without anything. Jack Caleman saved money after taking care of his kids. And she’d found the hidey-hole.
Savannah removed all the cash, intending to count it and lock most of it back up. The last thing inside the safe was a copy of her parent’s marriage license. She locked all the pornography inside the safe and left the bill organizer on the desk. The ledger opened to lay flat on the desktop. She situated the lamp and put the chair back, sitting down to give herself a better look. An unopened letter from the bank was stuck in with the bills, so Savannah opened it up, hoping for information on how much money she had to feed Molly and the livestock. Bills needed to be paid, and she wanted to keep them current the way Jack did it. He wrote out checks apparently. Caroline shopped for groceries in Woodland Park, at City Market. The girls had gone along many times. Caroline wrote checks there, too.
There were two accounts at the bank. The checking account in Cripple Creek had an attached savings account. Savannah’s eyes grew as she counted the numbers, seven spaces left of the decimal. What went out monthly from the checking account was minimal. The interest that came in and added to the balance on the savings doubled it. Cattle sales added in every three months. She dropped the statement.
Jack Caleman was duplicitous. He was a man of diverse sexual taste. And he was a closet millionaire.
Savannah closed the door to Jack’s study and went to the mailbox. The girls hadn’t checked the mail in a couple days, and there was a stack of envelopes waiting. Inside, she gathered the unopened mail from where she’d been stacking it on the kitchen table. Helping herself to a large portion of Oreos and a big glass of milk, she loved that she didn’t have guilt. Saving food for Molly wasn’t something to worry about any longer. Money was one less thing looming over her. She popped a cookie in her mouth and headed back to the study with her snack and the mail.
Savannah neatly separated the mail and opened it all up. There was a new banking statement and bills for the phone and electricity. She wrote checks for the amounts due and carefully balanced the checkbook. Two books of stamps were in the middle drawer, so she affixed postage to all of them and headed back out to the mailbox, leaned the envelopes against the side and put the red flag up so the mailman would know to stop.
Satisfied that she’d taken care of business, she went back to the study and began putting everything away. There were only two checks in the book she’d used and only one unused book remaining in the bank box. She used the rotary telephone on Jack’s desk and dialed the bank’s number from the statement.
“Good afternoon, this is Karen. How can I help you?” The lady was pleasant with a smile in her voice.
“Hi Karen. This is Caroline Caleman. I need to add our daughter, Savannah, to our account, please.”
“Certainly. Just one moment while I get your account files here.” After a moment Karen was back on the line. “In this case we’d like to suggest starting a student account in Savannah’s name. I see she just had her eighteenth birthday. You could just bring her in and we could get her started right away.”
“We’d rather just add her to our account, please. She won’t be going off to college yet. Maybe next year. Can we talk about that then?” Savannah stood up, too nervous to sit any longer. She pressed the phone to her ear hard, waiting to hear what the lady said in response.
“Not a problem. I have Savannah’s social security number and date of birth here from the beneficiary forms we have on file. If you’ll just verify that for
me I can get this done for you within the afternoon.”
Savannah recited her personal information nervously. If she let on that she wasn’t her mom, it would mean trouble. She waited patiently, listening to tapping keys.
“We’re almost out of checks, too,” she said, figuring she might as well go for broke. If all went well, she wouldn’t have to call back for a long time.
“I’ll get those ordered for you,” Karen said. More tapping and shuffling came from the other side, then she cleared her throat. “You’ll receive the checks in about three weeks. I’ve added your daughter to the account, but we will need to get a copy of her state issued identification. I’m mailing out two forms that will need to be signed where indicated and returned to the bank to finish up.”
“Thanks. We’ll watch for them. I’ll send Savannah by so she can give you her driver’s license for the records.”
“Perfect, Missus Caleman.” Karen thanked her and hung up. Savannah dropped into her dad’s chair, breathing easier since that the deed was done. After a moment she sat up and began putting the ledger and things away. It hadn’t been so bad, she decided. She locked the safe and tried to put things back how she’d found them and went to the brighter part of the house with the key to the safe in hand.
The key had to be kept in a secure place. She went to her bedroom and dug through her closet, pulling out a purse and wallet she’d received for Christmas a few years back. She wasn’t the type to carry a purse, but the need arose. She put a hundred in twenties in the wallet and zipped it up inside the handbag. Dropping the key in a purse pocket didn’t feel right, so she paced around her room looking for a good place to hide it. She opened her wooden jewelry box and took out a necklace with a golden “S” pendant. The chain fit through the hole in the key nicely so she put it on, the small key lying flat behind her initial, warming quickly against her breastbone. Keeping it on her was a much better choice and lent a sense of ownership.
Mr. Williams pulled into the drive, his truck leaving from view when he stopped in the half-circle close to the porch. The day had flown by. He didn’t turn off the motor. A door slammed and then the front door to the house opened up as he drove off.
Savannah went downstairs to see how Molly’s visit went. Around the corner in the living room, she found Molly on the couch, cuddling two baby rabbits.
“They’re for my project,” she said with a huge, dopey looking smile. She held out one of the brown and white dots of kicking fluff for Savannah. A few little brown balls of rabbit poo fell from her arm onto the couch.
Try as she might to be angry at Molly for not asking about the rabbits, 4H, or to go over to Kim’s, Savannah couldn’t do it. She ran to the bathroom for a wad of toilet paper, picked up the droppings, ran back to flush them, and plopped on the couch with Molly in baby bunny heaven. They sat kissing and petting Molly’s new rabbits while Savannah decided on the best place to keep them. At a loss for a rabbit cage, and because Molly wouldn’t want them out of her sight, Savannah decided to help make them a lined box next to Molly’s bed. Mr. Williams had sent a can of rabbit pellets to get her started and they used one of the water tins left over from the last round of chicks they’d raised.
“So, can we talk about something?” Savannah asked. She sat on the bed next to Molly, who was on the floor with the box of bunnies.
“Sure,” Molly said without looking up.
“We need to tell each other when we’re going to go somewhere, or if we want to do things like this.” Savannah gestured to the rabbits.
“You’re not my mother, Savannah.”
“I know, and I’m not trying to be. But I’m the closest thing you’ve got, unless you’d like to contact the family in Alabama to try to find Mom.” Molly didn’t respond so she continued. “I don’t want to tell you what to do. I just want to make sure you’re okay and that things are taken care of here.”
“We don’t need her, anyway,” Molly said, quietly.
Savannah just watched her for a moment, her heart breaking for her sister for a new reason. She hated that Molly despised the thought of seeing their mother, but she also understood it very well. “You’re right. I’ll help you get whatever you need, okay?”
Molly nodded, resting her chin on a forearm. One of her rabbits nosed around, close to her fingers.
“I just need you to agree to talk to me about things and to let me know your plans.” Molly didn’t bother looking up. “Molly?”
“What?” she snapped.
“It’s important that we agree on that. It’s just the two of us. It can work, but we have to stay close and work together. The animals need us. We’re a team. We have to keep our secrets from other people.”
Molly looked up, staring from one eye to the other. “Yeah, we do.”
***
Chapter 20
Caroline had always said that making a grocery list was the best way to prepare for shopping. Savannah put Molly up to the task while she got ready for the trip to Woodland Park. Making the most of the drive was the responsible thing to do. They hit the feed store for bunny food, a real indoor cage, and other frivolous rabbit “equipment”, and then went to City Market and started filling a grocery cart with items on their list.
When they went into the produce area, Molly went a little overboard, grabbing so much fresh fruit Savannah worried it would go bad before they ate it all. She put the bag of oranges she’d picked up back to make room in their diet for cherries, grapes, and strawberries for Molly. It didn’t take that long working together, so soon they’d picked up all the items on their list and some other random food that looked good at the time. Molly smiled and joked around, which put Savannah at ease for the time being. The cherries went up front to munch on the way home.
Half way through Gillette Flats, most the way back, Molly asked Savannah to pull the Toyota to the roadside because she wasn’t feeling well. Her feet no more than hit the gravel and she unloaded about three dollars worth of cherries in a projectile geyser into the bar ditch.
Savannah ran around the side and tried to hold Molly’s hair back. She missed. Molly’s stomach heaved and up came another crimson outburst. Molly panted with her hands on her knees.
“Ouch,” Molly said. She spit a long rail of pink saliva to the ground.
“That was … enthusiastic. You okay?” Savannah rubbed her sister’s back to sooth her.
“Yeah. Totally out of the blue. I was worried you wouldn’t get off the road fast enough.” Molly stood with her hands on her hips, breathing deeply. A strand of gooey hair was plastered to her shirt. “Oh, grodule. I need a shower.”
“Being carsick sucks. We can stay here until you feel like you can get back in.” Savannah leaned against the fender well as a semi truck barreled past, rocking the Toyota in its wake.
Molly’s eyes watered, but she nodded toward the road. “Let’s get going. I’ll tell you if it’s going to happen again.”
Savannah drove a little too fast on the flat spots of the road and slowed down on the curves so she didn’t jostle Molly too much. They made it back without any complaints after the remaining bag of cherries was hidden from view. The girls each grabbed grocery sacks from the bed of the truck and went inside, where Molly shoved hers onto the kitchen table and ran upstairs. After a moment the upstairs toilet flushed. Savannah hoped the phone number for Dr. Jamieson was in the study just in case Molly’s stomach problems kept up.
Three more trips from outside and the rest of the groceries were finally brought in. A gentle rain began during the second trip, and by the time Savannah went out again it was a full mountain monsoon with fat hard drops falling so viciously she thought it was hail at first. In no time she was soaked to the bone. Molly met her in the kitchen with a towel, which Savannah took gratefully.
“I like our house and all, but I really wish we had a garage so we could park like, here,” she made a little box with her hands, illustrating the thought, “and walk inside a door there.” Molly pointed to the far sid
e of the kitchen where it just so happened there was plenty of room for a door leading out since the kitchen had two exterior walls on that side.
“If the garage could be kept on that side of the kitchen, the doorway could be on the back of it, and we could use that one window to make into the door.”
“That would be cool,” Savannah agreed. She knelt on the floor to start stacking canned food in a cabinet. “I guess it would be nice to have a pantry out there. We could keep firewood out there, too. It’ll never be wet.”
“Ever wonder why the parents didn’t have one built?” As soon as the words left Molly’s mouth, her eyes went to the floor. Neither knew what to say for a moment. The thought of the loss of their parents took them both off guard.
“They had slave labor,” Savannah joked, trying to shake it off. The thought of actually fulfilling Molly’s idea churned in her head. The money was there, and so was the cause. She stood, rubbing the soreness out of her boney knees. Molly’s frown remained so she tried to change the vibe. “I’ve got the rest of this if you want to go get the new cage and take it up to your room. You know, get your little buddies moved into their new home?”