by John Rector
A cold trail of sweat ran down my back.
“They’re all fairly close to each other,” the woman said. “It doesn’t make—”
“My wife hasn’t signed up yet. I don’t know which one she’ll choose.”
“We’re only trying to get an idea of how many people we’ll have. You can change groups tomorrow if you like.”
I nodded, then took a pen from the table and signed my name on the first list. The woman smiled and handed me a button with a picture of Jessica on the front. Again, I couldn’t look at the photo.
“We’re meeting at the Jefferson docks at one o’clock,” she said. “See you then?”
I grunted an acknowledgment and stepped aside.
On the way back, I grabbed another sandwich off the table. The woman passing out coffee watched me do it, and when I looked up at her she smiled and waved.
When I got to my truck, I saw Ezra turn the corner and pull in next to me. He drove a 1966 Plymouth Barracuda that he’d bought brand new the year they’d come out. He only brought it out a few times a year, not to show it off, just to come to town. To him, it was only a car.
I’d tried to tell him on several occasions that the car was unique and worth a lot of money, but he didn’t care. He’d smile and act surprised just to be polite, but he had no intention of selling. Eventually, I quit trying.
“Hello, Dex,” Ezra said. He closed the Plymouth’s door and locked it. “You signing up for this thing?”
I told him I was, then asked, “You?”
“Hell no. I’m too damn old to go hiking around in the woods.” He motioned toward the hardware store on the corner. “I got a few repairs to get done, anyway.”
“Don’t you got someone around to do that kind of thing?” I tried to make my voice sound normal. “In that trailer?”
“Tolliver?” Ezra blew air through his teeth. “I’m better off doing it myself.”
“Not working out?”
“Not working at all.” He shook his head. “I’m just waiting for the day they pack up and leave. Never should’ve agreed to let them stay.”
“You think they will just leave?”
“They better,” he said. “Their sort always does after a while, but we’ll have to see.”
The idea made me feel light.
“I hope you’re right.”
Ezra and I talked for a while longer. He asked about Liz and how I was holding up, and I answered as best I could, but all I could think about was waking up one morning and climbing the hills that divided my property from Ezra’s, and seeing the trailer gone.
Problem solved.
Ezra held out his hand and we shook. “Good luck with the search,” he said. “I hope you find her safe and well.”
“Me too.”
He headed off toward the hardware store, and I walked around and opened the door to my truck.
When I got in, I looked down at the button in my hand. The picture of Jessica was the same one they’d been using on the flyers.
I stared at it for a moment, then tossed it aside.
CHAPTER 28
The phone rang as I walked up the back steps. I hurried through the door and across the kitchen, picking it up on the fifth ring.
“Hello?”
There was no response.
I set the bag on the kitchen table. “Who is this?”
The line clicked dead. I hung the phone back on the cradle.
“Who was it?”
I closed my eyes, tried to ignore her.
“Dex, who was it?”
“No one,” I said. “There was no one there.”
Jessica made a dismissive noise and crossed the room toward the table. She leaned over and looked inside the bag.
“Ant traps?”
“Yep.”
“You don’t give up, do you?”
I didn’t say anything. She rifled through the bag.
“You got enough of them.”
“I thought you’d be happy.”
“Yeah, very sweet.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. The bruising on her cheek had turned dark and now seemed to bleed down her face to her neck.
“Have you thought any more about the Tollivers?” she asked. “Or are we just going to keep riding our luck?”
“Riding our luck seems to be working out.”
“For now. But what happens when the sheriff shows up with that kid? What are we going to do then?”
“We’ll deal with that when we have to.” I moved past her and started unpacking the ant traps. “Don’t worry.”
I could feel her eyes drilling into the back of my head. I wanted to tell her about the search party and how they were starting out miles away from here, and how we were lucky about that, too. But when I turned around she was gone.
I picked up the phone and dialed then listened to it ring. No one answered, and I was about to hang up when Liz’s mother, Ellen, picked up. Her voice sounded tired. When I asked how she’d been, she opened up to me.
“Honey, it’s been a tough summer,” she said. “Did Liz tell you I have to have another operation on these veins? The doctor said I have to have them taken out. I’m not looking forward to that one, believe me.”
“I don’t blame you.”
She went on a bit more about her doctor and how he only hired young nurses who don’t look much out of college, then stopped and said, “I’m guessing you called looking for Liz, am I right?”
I told her she was.
“Well, I haven’t seen her since this morning, but she’ll probably wander in soon. I can have her call you, if you’d like.”
“Thanks, but that’s not—”
“How are you doing, Dexter? I know Liz has been so worried about you lately. Are things bearable?”
For a woman who’d lived her entire life in the country, Ellen had a way of making the world seem elegant.
“I’m hoping things are getting better,” I said. “That’s why I need to talk to Liz. She hasn’t said anything to you, has she?”
She laughed. “Honey, Liz doesn’t talk to me about that kind of thing. You know how she is.”
Yes, I knew exactly.
“I do wish you two would hurry and put things back together,” Ellen said. “I love her, don’t get me wrong, but she’s difficult at times.”
“So am I.”
Ellen murmured something then said, “It’s been a battle for you, Dexter. Your burden is harder in some ways than anyone else’s. Liz always understood.”
“Not always.”
Ellen was quiet. When she spoke again, her voice was soft. “She is mourning her daughter, too. You should both be more understanding and give each other the space you need.”
“She took the space she needed. The choice wasn’t mine.”
“Well, be that as it may, it wouldn’t hurt you to put your feelings aside for a while and let her come back to you on her own, would it?”
“I don’t think she knows if she’s coming back.”
“She’ll come back. She needs time.”
I didn’t know what to say.
After a moment, Ellen said, “I’ll have her call you when I see her.”
“Maybe just give her a message?” I told her about the search party and how I’d signed up after all. “Will you tell her I’ll meet her tomorrow afternoon?”
She said she would, then added, “Do you think that little girl is dead?”
I paused. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
She clicked her tongue. “A shame for her parents.”
“Will you make sure Liz gets the message?”
“Sure, honey,” she said. “I’ll tell her.”
After I hung up, I gathered the ant traps and started toward the back door. When I turned, I saw Jessica standing in the doorway leading to the hall. She stared at me, said, “There’s a search party?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
“You and your wife are going?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to tell her?”
I shook my head. “No reason to.”
“If she moves back, don’t you think she’ll find out?”
“She’s not moving back.”
Jessica nodded. “How do you think she’s going to react?”
“I told you—”
“I bet she’ll be upset,” Jessica said. She came closer, letting her arms drop to her sides. “I wonder what she’ll think of you after she finds out.”
“She’s not going to find—”
“Does she still love you?”
“Yes.”
“She won’t, not after this.”
Jessica reached out and slid her hands over my shoulders. Her skin smelled oily and wet.
“You don’t know that,” I said.
“Really?” Her eyes went wide, the whites a deep red. “So you think she’ll be jealous?”
“Jealous?”
She leaned forward and pressed her lips against mine. There was an ammonia smell that burned into my sinuses and made my eyes water. When she pulled away, I gasped for breath.
Jessica ran a thumb along the corner of her mouth.
It came away bloody.
“I’d be jealous if I were her.” She looked at her thumb then held it out and pressed it between my lips. Her skin tasted wet and ripe.
She smiled.
“You and I have something special.”
SATURDAY
CHAPTER 29
If I let go she will fall.
“I can do it, Daddy, let go.”
If I let go—
“Daddy, let go.”
She’s already pulling away from me. I’m holding her back. If I don’t let go she will fall.
“Daddy, please.”
I let go.
She doesn’t fall.
I watch her pedal faster, cresting the hill.
I do my best to keep up. My muscles ache, the hot air scorches my lungs, the rapid fire of my heart splits my ribs, and still she pulls away, becoming smaller and smaller.
“Clara!”
She doesn’t turn, doesn’t take her eyes off the road.
There is an explosion of sound behind me, like gunfire, and I turn back.
The road is deserted, a line of dirt dividing a field of endless green. All of it baking under a chalk white sun.
I look ahead and see Clara in the distance. She’s stopped at the top of the hill. She sees me and waves.
I raise my hand and wave back.
She’s yelling something, but I can’t hear. Her voice is lost in the wind.
“Stay there!” I yell to her, but my throat feels dry and rough. I cough into my palm. When I look down I see a single red ant in my hand, its antenna twitching.
Again, the sound, loud, insistent.
Someone clapping?
Someone…
Knocking…
I look up at the road.
Clara isn’t there anymore. She’s gone ahead, vanishing on the other side of the hill.
I feel a flash of panic and start running.
I don’t know what’s over there.
I don’t know where she is.
There is a roar in the distance, like the rumbling of an angry sea. I look up at the empty sky, then across the fields toward the horizon.
No, not thunder.
There is a scarecrow in the field alongside the road. Its face is bleached white.
Bone.
Hollow black eyes.
Knocking…
Watching me, and I can’t look away.
The roar is louder, and now I know what it is. A car coming over the hill. It won’t see me until it’s too late. I have to get out of the road, but I can’t move. I’m stuck to this spot, and I can’t stop staring.
The eyes.
The car comes over the hill, too fast.
The scarecrow raises its head and its teeth flash. Smiling.
Knocking…
The car strikes.
Knocking…
The sound continues.
Knocking…
And I open my eyes.
I stayed in bed, watching the ceiling fan stir the hot air. The knocking came again. This time I sat up and kicked my feet to the floor. The clock on the nightstand flashed 12:00 in a neon green pulse. I leaned forward and rested my head in my hands.
Again, knocking.
Whoever it was, they were persistent.
I tossed the sheet aside, reached for my pants on the floor, and slid them on as I headed for the front door.
I saw a blurred face pressed against the cut stained glass in the door. As I got closer, the face pulled back. The screen clacked shut against the frame.
I opened the front door but kept the screen closed.
The man on the porch was thin and bald and had a beard that wrapped around his chin like a helmet strap. He wore a black T-shirt and blue jeans that looked several sizes too big for him.
He stood at the top of the steps, ready to run at any moment.
I recognized him right away.
“Mr. Tolliver,” I said, fighting to keep my voice calm. “What can I do for you?”
As I spoke, his eyes opened then dropped back to two thin slits. “You know me?”
“We haven’t met, but I’ve seen you around.” I motioned past him, toward the hills. “Known Ezra my whole life. He mentioned you were helping him up at his place.”
Frank Tolliver chewed the inside of his cheek, watching me. “That’s right.”
“Ezra is a good man.”
Frank ignored the comment, said, “My boy has been over here before. Looking for work.”
“Yep, he has.”
“But you ain’t never hired him.”
“No extra work,” I said. “Small place.”
Frank Tolliver nodded and walked toward the edge of the porch, never taking his eyes off me. When he got to the far rail, he stopped and stared out at the field. “Ain’t that small a place,” he said. “A lot to be done out there.”
“Is that why you came by? Get me to hire your boy?”
He pointed to the break in the rows then turned and said, “Looks like your tractor got away from you.”
I kept quiet.
Tolliver ran his tongue over his teeth, and his upper lip rolled like a slug. “I think I might’ve passed it on my way over. Sitting out there in that ditch by those trees, ain’t it?”
I pushed the screen door open, hard, and stepped out onto the porch.
Tolliver twitched and glanced over to the stairs.
For a moment, I thought he was going to run, but he didn’t. Instead, he backed into the corner of the porch, slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and said, “You need to take it easy. Ain’t no reason to—”
“Why don’t you tell me your business so we can get this over with,” I said.
“My business?”
“That’s right.”
“My business is your business.”
I didn’t say anything. I’d known what was coming since I saw him standing on the porch. All I had to do was wait.
Tolliver took one hand out of his pocket and held up a small yellow disk. He shook it next to his ear and winked at me. “Looks like you caught one.” He smiled then set it on the porch rail.
It was one of the ant traps.
“I thought Jacob was telling tales,” he said. “Usually the only thing that comes out of that boy’s mouth is bullshit. But he wasn’t lying about this, was he?”
I stared at the ant trap, didn’t speak.
“I was going to stop by yesterday, but then I saw you out there putting these things on the ground, and I said to myself, ‘What the hell is that crazy fucker up to?’” He brushed the underside of his beard with his knuckles then leaned forward, smiling. “You don’t care if I call you a crazy fucker, do you?”
I looked up. His smile wavered for a moment; then it was back.
“I didn’t think you would. I mean, it’s not a secret around
town, is it?” He laughed. “Whenever your name is brought up, people always have something to say.”
“What do you want?”
Tolliver stepped closer, and I smelled the mix of cheap alcohol and sweat on his skin. “Ezra told me you once beat a man’s head to gravy with a crowbar. Is that true?”
Silence.
“Said you were just a kid at the time, still in high school, a baseball star even.” He shook his head. “From what I hear, you spent a few years up in Archway, getting—” He held out his arms and vibrated them in the air, then laughed. “I’d ask if it helped, but obviously—”
“What do you want?”
“What do you think he wants?” The voice came from behind me, and I turned around. Jessica was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “He’s playing with us because you didn’t have the guts to take care of this problem right away. Now we have to deal with this shit.”
I turned back to Tolliver.
He fished a bent cigarette out of a crumpled pack of Camel shorts and put it in his mouth. “What I want is to come to an understanding.” As he spoke, the cigarette danced on the air. “Nothing too painful.”
“An understanding?”
“He wants money,” Jessica said. “Christ, why don’t you do something?”
“Understand each other,” Tolliver said. “Where we both stand.” He lit the cigarette and inhaled deep. “You see, it makes no difference to me what a man does, or needs to do, to get by.” He tapped his chest with his thumb. “I know the way the world spins under the surface.”
I felt Jessica come up behind me, her breath on the back of my neck. “You could take him right now.”
Frank Tolliver pointed at me. “What you need to understand is that my understanding isn’t free.”
“What did I tell you?” Jessica said. “Money.”
“Shut up.”
My voice was louder than I thought it would be, and Tolliver frowned. “I didn’t catch that.”
I stepped closer to him. He reached behind his back and took out a long hunting knife. It was serrated on one edge, oiled, sharp. “You might want to rethink whatever it is you’re planning.”
I stopped, stared at the knife.
His hand shook, and I was pretty sure I could get the knife away from him without too much trouble.