Squid Corners

by Ed Helenski

  The three hours were nearly up, and I was getting ready to pick my way out of the trees when the scent came to me on the wind. Smoke. I looked back towards town and could see a glow building. I began to run, a horrible premonition seizing me. I knew where the glow was coming from. Long before I could tell by looking I knew.

  The glow centered on the corner of French and Langley. Already a few people were gathered, including the group that was searching for Meg. Tommy Slicdale was trying to back the pumper up to the corner, but was having trouble. Driving the truck had been Bobby’s job.

  I stood and saw the house burning. Maggie’s house. Already the Jacobs place, thankfully vacant, was burning, and the side of the school as well. Someone said that the trucks from Siegly were on the way, and I realized it was too late for that. Too late for anything. I scanned the crowd, looking for her face, not finding it. Cindy came up to me and asked me if Maggie was staying at my house. I shook my head. She began to cry then, and it released the floodgates for me. I began weeping, and calling out for Mags. She didn’t answer.

  Eventually I found myself sitting on the curb across the street. I was in shock. Time wound out in a twisted fashion. About the time the handful of men had managed to get a hose going on the house the trucks from Siegly arrived.

  At some point someone had put a blanket around me. It was freezing out, the houses and school coated in ice while still smoking. Maggie’s house was nothing more than a charred ruin. I thought that a real man might have tried to go into it when they arrived, tried to save her, but in my heart I knew that was just guilt. The house had been an inferno by the time I got there. It would turn out that the fire had started in the basement. I didn’t know that then, but found out later from the fire inspector. A device had been used; a rather simple timer made from a candle and a milk carton. When it caught, gasoline had spread the fire almost instantly. The gas line to the furnace had ruptured. It was probably the whomp of the explosion that had alerted me to the smoke to begin with, though I don’t recall hearing it.

  Finally, near dawn, Tommy Slicdale took me by the arm and led me to my house. He said I should go the doctor’s, but I just wanted to get to my bed. Our bed. And where the hell had the doc been anyway? I lay in bed, smelling of smoke, and thinking of Mags. By the time the sun came up fully I had drifted into an exhausted sleep. A new day had started, one of an endless parade of days without Maggie.

  Chapter 20

  I woke around ten, my head splitting, the acrid smell of smoke on my clothes, on my bed, on my self. Then recollection hit me and I wept again. How was this possible? How could my life be turned around so abruptly? Everything seemed pointless. My tears turned to sobs that shook my body, and for a while I could not bring myself under control.

  As I lay, paralyzed by my grief, I saw images of my life, or what would have been my life before this happened. Of Mags and I getting wed in the small church in Apollo, the church we went to midnight mass in. Of her dad giving her away. Of our house, somewhere, who can say, snug and warm and homey. Of Mags pregnant, her belly full of our union. Of first steps, and first grade, and bicycles and scraped knees and…the images swam in front of me. None of them were going to come true. Everything was over.

  Eventually the paralysis gave way to the pounding in my head. The smoke, the tears, the lack of sleep, all added to one monumental headache. I padded into the bathroom and took four Tylenol, then turned on the shower. I need to wash the stink off of me. The stink of Maggie’s death. It occurred to me that I was smelling her pyre, and that made me gag. I knelt at the bowl and tried to vomit, but I had not eaten in so long there was nothing but a string of mucus dangling down into the water.

  I crawled into the shower and let the water do its work. After a while the muscles began to loosen, and with the application of soap and shampoo the smell receded to a nasty undercurrent. I stayed until the water got cool, then got out and toweled off. Tears still leaked from my eyes as I got dressed.

  In the kitchen I made coffee. I debated food, but there seemed little point in eating. I had no appetite, my stomach was still in knots, and besides, food might bring me some tiny pleasure, and I deserved nothing. I had been unable to keep my dearheart safe. I deserved nothing.

  I had just taken the first sip of coffee when the phone rang. It was Erin Scully. “Tom. You ok, Tom?” she asked awkwardly. We didn’t really know each other and while I could tell she was being nice, her brusque persona made it come out, well, like my dad trying to be nice.

  “I’ve been better” I croaked, and realized I hadn’t spoken in a long time.

  “I, we, we’re real sorry about Maggie, Tom. She was a great girl. I, I know you are probably just wanting to be alone right now, but we really could use your help. The State Police have come and we are going to do another search for Meg, now that it’s light. We could use every man we can get” Her voice sounded dead tired and just a little bit scared. It was as if this missing girl were the only glue left holding the town together.

  Missing girl. Missing girl. This was not some story for the Courant. This was not a missing girl. This was Meg. Meg with the bright smile and the eyes that seemed to know. Meg, who wouldn’t be duped by some stranger with candy. Meg who was smart enough to take care of herself. And if Meg was missing, Meg was in trouble.

  “Tom? Tom, are you still there?” Erin’s voice had taken on an air of hysteria that I wouldn’t have expected from someone so…well, tough.

  “Yeah. I’m here. I’ll be ready in a minute. Where are we meeting?” I got the details from her and finished my coffee. As an afterthought I made a couple slices of toast and slathered them with jam. Gobbling the toast as I walked I made my way to the municipal building. I would need my strength.

  There were three cars from the Police barracks, and six of the Smokey bear hats in evidence. The rest of the group gathered seemed to be pretty much the same as last night. I would learn that the fire inspector from Siegly and his crew were sifting through the charred remains of Maggie’s house, looking for clues and…for Maggie. It was good that I had something to keep me focused or I would just lapse into tears again.

  Two additions to our little band were Mike Mistick and Jack Buckley, the fourth grade teacher. I had only ever seen him in passing. Two very disparate rumors circulated about him. One was that he had slept with all the married women in town. The other was that he was gay. Looking at his neat appearance, fortyish good looks, and pleasant manner, did nothing to help decide which was true.

  One of the troopers was in charge, and we were paired off to search different sections. The search would focus on five areas. One group, Slicdale and a trooper, would go out east on 6016, another, Mistick and a trooper, would look West, and would cover Industry Road as well. Scully and her trooper would go North on 144; Taylor and another went south. Juan and one took the fields behind Langley, and once again I found myself heading out Cleveland, and into the woods. Cindy and the final trooper were going to do a door to door of the town.

  The nametag on the guy with me identified him as Trooper R. Calaban. The R, I discovered, stood for Randall. We started at the corner of Main and Cleveland, and worked a criss-cross pattern through the woods, going back and forth between town and 144. It was a long walk each way, and despite taking our time and being careful two things became apparent. One, it was going to take forever for the two of us to get even a little ways out of town, and two, we could miss a Buick out here. This sort of search requires a lot more people. I said as much to Randall, who grunted and agreed. I wondered if more volunteers would be shaken loose by the door to door. Randall used the radio to contact Trooper Sterret, who was in charge and had stayed behind with Cindy. Randall asked him if any other volunteers could be sent to help in our sector.

  “That’s negative” came the crackly reply, “I don’t know where the heck everyone is, but this town is darn near cleaned out. It’s like a ghost town. You boys are on your own for now.” Just great.

  The search became m
onotonous, which gave me time to think again. Thinking was not a good thing right now, because with thoughts came images of Mags, and with images of Mags came the tears. I doubted Randall had any idea about Mags and I, or that knowing would cut any ice with him and tears. He looked like a stolid, stoic, well, typical type of guy drawn to the State Police. I tried to concentrate on the search.

  We had gotten about even with the old Tario farm when the radio crackled again. It was after three, and sandwiches and coffee had been set up at the Dinor for everyone. We would go eat, and pick up the search for another couple hours before dark. We cut across to the rutted end of Cleveland and began walking back to town. I was hungry, but I didn’t want to go to the Dinor. I didn’t really want to see anyone. In fact, I was exhausted, and wanted to sleep. Preferably forever. I told Randall he could pick me up at my house, which we had arrived at on the way towards the Dinor. He grunted and strode off. I went inside.

  Everyone responds to grief differently. Some eat. Some weep. Some need to be alone; others cannot bear the solitude. Some can’t sleep. And some, like myself, want nothing more than to curl into a ball and find oblivion. Losing my mom had been shocking, losing my dad had been emotionally difficult, but this was different. Very different. This was like being punched in the stomach, over and over again. Perhaps if I had gone to the Dinor I would have talked with the firemen eating there. I would have found out that though they were continuing to sift, they had not yet found Maggie. I would have also learned about the incendiary device in her basement. I might not have slept. As it was, I knew none of those things and I collapsed on my bed. In seconds I was out.

  The sound of the shower is what awoke me. In my groggy state I wondered if I had turned it on when I got home, intending to shower, and had fallen asleep. I walked towards the bathroom, curious but not afraid. When I stepped into the room it was steamy. The water couldn’t have been running while I slept, it would be cold by now. I looked at the stall, and in the dim, late afternoon light, I could not tell if it were empty or occupied. I wondered if I was losing my mind. Or dreaming. Maybe I was still asleep. Who could be in my shower? With trembling hand I reached out and quickly jerked open the curtain.

  Maggie screamed and then began to laugh when she saw it was me. I felt the earth shift beneath me, and for a moment the room darkened, and fireflies danced in front of my eyes. Then I sat down hard, right there on the floor, and my vision cleared. Maggie was still there, no apparition, no ghost, steamy, living flesh. She had changed her laughter for a look of grave concern. “You are white as a ghost,” she said, and then I began to laugh.

  I stood up and jumped right into the shower with her. I hugged and kissed her, kisses all over her face while the water soaked me. “You,” I finally managed to say, “You are alive. My God, Mags, I thought…” I couldn’t bear to speak of what I had thought, what I had lived with since last night. My laughter was mixed with tears as I hugged her, and she hugged me back and started to cry too. Finally the water started to grow cold and we realized that we could get out of the shower. I shucked off my wet things while she toweled dry, then I dried while she went and put on a robe. We both sat on the bed and she told me what had happened.

  She began by going to the jeans she had discarded next to the bed before showering. Had I not been so totally out of it I would have heard her undressing while I slept. She reached into one of the pockets and pulled out a little leather bag. “I know you threw this away, but I went and dug it out while you were not looking. I just had a feeling. I had it in my pocket last night, and when I went to bed, on a whim I put it under my pillow.” She sat back next to me. I put my hand on her shoulder while she talked. I couldn’t bear to not be touching her.

  “I woke up and found it sitting on my chest. It stinks so bad I think that’s what woke me. And once I was awake, well, something didn’t feel right. I looked out the bedroom window, and there was a light in the backyard, like a flashlight. It was bobbing away, off into the fields. I thought it was odd, and decided to investigate. I put on some clothes and got my coat. By the time I got outside the light was gone. I went off in the direction I saw it, but I never did catch up. By the time I thought to stop, I realized I was kind of lost.”

  I listened to her, only partly hearing. My mind was filled with a kind of rushing sound, a roar really. I was so glad to see her. I kept thinking that I had lost her and now I had her back and I was never going to let her go again. Still, at least some of what she was telling me was getting through.

  “It was the smell of smoke that led me back the right way. By the time I got to the field behind the house, it was already blazing. I thought about trying to get back in, but almost everything I own is here now, anyway. Which was amazing good luck.” She tossed the charm up in the air and caught it. “Amazing good luck. It dawned on me as I heard people gathering that whoever was in the backyard may well have set the fire and probably knew I was in there when they did it. So I figured it would be a good idea to let them think they had succeeded. At least for the time being. I snuck away to the old Candy store and stayed there. I must have slept pretty deep, cause it was late when I woke up. I heard voices. It was you and that trooper going back to town. I waited till he was gone and then I came in. You were out, so I hopped into the shower, I was utterly yucky and smelled like smoke. And you know the rest. Were you guys out looking for me?”

  I realized she still didn’t know about Meg. I told her everything I knew, which was not a great deal. The story made her both angry and more convinced the fire at her house had been deliberate. The facts would ultimately bear her out. As I got dressed we hastily decided on a course of action. It was clear that none of the authorities would take any of our beliefs seriously. We needed to find out what was going on on our own. And it wasn’t just to satisfy our curiosity at this point. It wasn’t even to find out who tried to torch Mags. It was imperative we figure this out, because to our minds Meg was in danger from the very same person.

  “We need to find out where Reggie is. He must be on to something or he wouldn’t be gone all this time.” Maggie was silent a moment, then spoke.

  “Tom, we need to realize that something might have happened to Reggie. If whoever is behind this saw ME as a threat, they surely saw Reggie as one. The only thing I can’t figure out is why YOU haven’t been targeted.”

  That had occurred to me too, but I had not wanted to say anything. If something happened to Reggie, we were on our own. And as for why I hadn’t been targeted, I had considered that point, and worried that someone might be setting out to frame me. Or perhaps the reason I was spared was because whoever came into town had not known where to find me last night. The point wasn’t to burn my house after all, but to burn me. And I had been with the State Police all day. Most of it anyway. Whoever was out there was no doubt lying low till they left. “You are right. I didn’t want to say anything. I didn’t want to frighten you.” I looked at Maggie. “Pretty silly huh? You are the one whose life was in danger and you were dealing with it while I was falling apart thinking…thinking you were gone. So what now?”

  Maggie had dragged out one of the cardboard boxes from her place and was rummaging in it. When she turned around there was a small, black; deadly looking item in her hand. It turned out to be a .22 caliber Colt revolver. “My dad always worried about me up in Erie. He gave me this when I moved there.” She pulled out a box of shells and began to load it. “Between this, and this” she said tapping the pocket where she had replaced the leather bag from Vera Carrone, “I think I’ll be ok till you get back.”

  “Get back?”

  “Yeah, you have to go back out and search. It’s what will be expected. And if we don’t want folks to know I am still here, you better keep to the script.” She came over and hugged me tightly. “By tonight, I hope to have some idea about Reggie. I’m going to get to the municipal building while you are all out looking and see what I can find.”

  I was about to tell her that it was far too dangerous
for her to try and sneak around town in broad daylight when there was a pounding from downstairs. Trooper Randall Calaban had returned.

  “I love you Mags. I thought I lost you once, please don’t do anything dangerous. I couldn’t…” I broke off at that point and hugged her again.

  “I’ll be ok.” She kissed me. “Now go, before he breaks the door down.”

  When I opened the door to join the impatient trooper I saw that snow was falling thickly, and the air had gotten colder. As we trudged out towards the spot where we had left the woods I asked him if there had been any news. He shook his head. “Nothing. Well, wait. Something about that fire last night.” He didn’t realize I had any connection to the person supposedly in the fire. “Got nothing to do with the missing girl, probably just insurance. Inspector said it was set. In the basement. Damned shame. Didn’t turn up any sign of the woman who lived there, though. Not yet, anyway.” And with that he was silent. I said nothing, but tears ran down my face. He saw them, but didn’t comment. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to act like Mags was still gone, but thinking of someone trying to hurt her removed any need to act.

  The afternoon was interminable. We reached the end of the woods, where the tiny ruts that had been Cleveland peter out entirely. Nothing. The snow kept falling, it was cold, and we were wasting our time. Trooper Randall called in, and we were told to give it up for the day. It was nearly dark, and the other groups had already come in. If there was no news the search might pick up in the morning. Another trooper from the barracks had been sent to spend the night on patrol in town, but that was it. The consensus was if the girl was out here, she was lost further away than we would find. By now the troopers had concluded she was probably abducted, and long gone.