The Cold Kiss

by John Rector

  Marcus looked from his cards to hers then grunted and pushed himself away from the table. He took her cup and crossed the room toward the stove, mumbling to himself.

  “Marcus retired this year,” she said. “He’s not taking it very well, especially now, with the markets the way they are.”

  I nodded like I understood. I couldn’t think of anything better than not having to work.

  Maybe that was just me.

  Marcus yelled, then I heard the coffeepot hit the burner. “Mother, fu—, goddamn it.”

  Caroline shook her head. She was smiling. “Use the hot pad, sweetheart.”

  “Thank you, dear,” he said.

  She reached out and touched my arm. Her hand was soft, and I couldn’t help but like her. “Marcus is a poet,” she said. “A good one, too.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Marcus, read him one of your poems.”

  “He doesn’t want to hear one of my poems.”

  “And how do you know that? He might love poetry.”

  Marcus came back to the table with Caroline’s coffee cup. He set it in front of her then looked at me.

  “Do you love poetry, Nate?”

  I told him I didn’t know much about poetry.

  He looked at Caroline. “See? What did I tell you?”

  Caroline frowned. “Well, if you’re too embarrassed.”

  Marcus muttered something under his breath, then sat down and took a silver flask from his jacket pocket and opened the top. “I can’t win.”

  He held the flask over his cup and poured a shot into his coffee, then reached across the table and poured another into Caroline’s.

  “I’ll keep working on him,” Caroline said. “He’ll read one before the highway reopens, you’ll see.”

  Marcus sat back and Caroline tapped the rim of her coffee cup. “Don’t be stingy now.”

  Marcus handed her the flask and she held it out to me.

  “Would you like a drink, Nate?”

  I shook my head then watched her pour another shot into her coffee before setting the flask on the table.

  “If you change your mind, just say the word.”

  I told her I would then went back to my eggs.

  I’d finished them all by the time Butch came into the room. He had a plastic cooler with two loaves of bread sitting on top.

  “This is all of it,” he said. “I’ll leave what we don’t eat in this cooler then set it out back in the snow so it doesn’t spoil. Never know when the refrigerator will work again.”

  “Hear anything about the roads?” Marcus asked.

  “Afraid not,” Butch said. “Radio says we’ve got more snow coming tonight.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Butch nodded. “It’s not looking good out there.”

  I didn’t want to believe it, so I chose not to. Instead, I finished my coffee then got up to get more.

  Butch was pulling food out of the refrigerator and stacking it in the cooler. When he saw me, he said, “Good to see you, Minnesota. How’s your friend feeling?”

  “Sick,” I said. “I was going to take her a plate, if you don’t mind.”

  “Don’t mind a bit. Help yourself.” He looked around the counter. “I should have some foil someplace. We can wrap it up so it doesn’t freeze before you get it to her.”

  I reached for one of the paper plates but Butch stopped me and took a real plate from the counter.

  “Easier to carry,” he said. “That one will fall apart halfway back to your room.”

  I took it then started spooning out eggs and bacon. She’d go for the bacon, but I didn’t think she’d want to look at the eggs, much less eat them. Still, I wanted to give her the option. If she didn’t want them, I’d eat ’em.

  Butch found the foil and handed it to me.

  I wrapped the plate then thanked him.

  “Don’t mention it,” he said. “Just make sure to bring it back when you’re finished, if you don’t mind.”

  I told him I would, then I slid my coat on and said good-bye to Caroline and Marcus.

  On my way out, I passed Megan at the table.

  She didn’t look at me, and as I walked by, I noticed several jagged scars running along her wrists.

  I kept walking, pretending I never saw them.

  16

  Someone had shoveled the walkways around the buildings, so the trek back to the room was easier. I tried to hurry, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. The eggs were going to be cold.

  I crossed through the parking lot toward our room. When I got close, I heard a man’s voice, then the sound of Sara laughing.

  No, not laughing, giggling.

  “Believe it or not,” the man said. “It’s the truth.”

  More giggling.

  I turned the corner and stopped.

  Sara was standing in the doorway to our room. She had her robe on and was holding it closed with both hands.

  The man had his back to me, but I knew who he was even without seeing his face.

  Sara saw me and tried to smile.

  I could see the worry in her eyes.

  “Hey, Nate,” she said. “This is our neighbor, Zack. He works here.”

  Zack turned and looked at me. He held out his hand. “There’s the man, right there.”

  I hesitated, then shook his hand.

  His skin felt rough and damp.

  “Good to meet you,” he said.

  I looked past him to Sara.

  She shrugged.

  “I was out clearing the snow and decided to introduce myself,” he said. “Got to talking with your girlfriend and lost the time.”

  “Fiancée.”

  “What?”

  “Fiancée,” I said. “Not girlfriend.”

  Zack stared at me for a moment then his lips slid sideways into a smile, showing a scatter of tobacco yellow teeth. “My mistake.”

  “It’s no big deal,” Sara said. “Is it, Nate.”

  “Nope,” I said. “No big deal.”

  Zack didn’t look away from me, and the smile never broke. “That’s a hell of a scrape you got,” he said. “How’d you get it?”

  I touched the scar on my forehead. “Long story.”

  Zack’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sure it is.”

  For a moment, no one spoke, then Sara said, “Zack’s uncle owns the place.”

  “Butch?”

  “All it means is I get stuck doing the work he doesn’t want to do. The list gets longer every year, too.”

  “He seems active enough.”

  “All it means is I get stuck doing the work he doesn’t want to do. The list gets longer every year, too.”

  “When he wants to be,” Zack said. “He pretends he’s old and frail, but he’s not. Believe me, that son of a bitch is going to hang around forever.”

  “Do you live here full-time?” Sara asked.

  “I do,” he said. “You can’t beat free rent, at least not in this life.”

  Sara looked at me. “Zack was telling me about some of the crazy things he’s seen around here.”

  “That so?”

  “Tell him about that couple with the baby dolls.”

  Zack dragged the shovel along the sidewalk and the sound echoed under the walkway. “I don’t want to keep you two out in the cold. Maybe we’ll have time to talk later on. It looks like you’ll be stuck here for a while.”

  “Why would we be stuck here?” Sara looked at me. “What’s going on?”

  I told her about the radio and the storm coming.

  “What about the plows—”

  “We’ll see what happens.”

  Zack watched us. “You two in a hurry?”

  “Just want to keep moving.” I handed the plate to Sara. “Eggs and bacon, probably cold by now. Think you can keep them down?”

  She took them, didn’t speak.

  “Are you sick?” Zack asked.

  Sara looked at him then shrugged. “Just pregnant.”

  Zack�
��s eyes went wide. “Is that right? Well, God bless you, that’s wonderful.”

  Sara smiled, and for the first time in days I saw color in her cheeks.

  “It’s not so wonderful right now,” she said. “He’s doing a number on my stomach.”

  “No, it’s a blessing,” Zack said. “Any time God brings a child into the world it’s a blessing.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Oh, I do. And what’s more, so does He.”

  Sara looked up at me. I could tell she’d had enough.

  I stepped forward and said, “Listen, we’re going to—”

  “Right,” Zack said. “I should get back to work and let you two get on with your day.” He held out his hand and I shook it again. “You and I need to get together and have a drink, celebrate the child.” He motioned toward his room. “I got a bottle of Johnny Walker up there. We can go to work on it later.”

  “Thanks, but we’re hoping to—”

  “I’ll tell you some of the crazy things I’ve seen around here lately, and you can tell me about that scar.”

  He looked at me and something passed between us.

  I paused. “Sure, why not.”

  Zack turned to Sara. “You’re welcome to join us, without the drink, of course.”

  “Not this time,” she said. “Thanks.”

  “Suit yourself.” Zack picked up the snow shovel and started down the walkway. When he got to the bottom, he stopped and took in a deep breath then said, “I have a feeling it’s gonna be a glorious day.”

  Once we were both inside with the door closed, Sara started asking me about the plows and the coming storm. I barely heard her. We had bigger problems.

  “How bad is it supposed to be?”

  “What?”

  “The storm,” Sara said. “Did they say—”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Doesn’t matter? Nate, we can’t be stuck here.”

  “We might not have a choice,” I said. “And another day or two isn’t going to make a difference. The more snow we get, the longer it’ll take to find him. By the time they do, we’ll be long gone.”

  Sara sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ll feel better when we’re on the road.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Me, too.”

  We didn’t talk for a while, then Sara looked at me and said, “You look worried.”

  “I am.” I motioned toward the window. “He knows.”

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  “He saw me last night.”

  Sara was quiet. “Are you sure?”

  I went over everything, leaving out the part about Syl in the ravine. When I finished, I said, “This is bad.”

  Sara folded her hands in front of her mouth and closed her eyes. When she opened them again she said, “Did you see him on your way out?”

  I told her I didn’t.

  “So, he only saw you when you were coming back.”

  “Maybe, I can’t be sure.”

  “Be sure, Nate.”

  Her voice was harsh.

  I thought about it for a moment.

  I’d taken my time getting Syl out of the car. If anyone had been outside, I would’ve seen them.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m sure.”

  “So all he saw was you walking outside.”

  “In a blizzard.”

  “That’s not against the law.”

  “It’s strange.”

  “You should’ve heard some of the stories he was telling me.” She smiled. “Walking around in a blizzard is nothing compared to what he’s seen.”

  I wanted to feel better, but I didn’t. Zack knew something was going on. He might not have seen everything that happened last night, but he’d seen enough to come over and try to make me nervous. And he did a good job.

  “I’ll find out for sure when I talk to him.”

  “You’re going over there?”

  “I have to. I have to know.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t,” she said. “That guy makes me nervous. You should’ve seen how he was looking at me.”

  “I need to find out what he saw last night. Maybe it’s nothing.” Sara thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

  Neither of us spoke for a while, then I said, “You know he has a meth lab set up out back?”

  “Seriously?”

  “In a pig shed behind the building.”

  “How do you know it’s a meth lab?”

  I told her about the open door slamming in the wind and about seeing him come out of the shed. Then I told her how I’d walked over to close the door and what I’d found inside.

  “Fireworks?”

  “Bags of them,” I said. “They use the red phosphorus inside of ’em.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “That’s nothing. You wouldn’t believe what goes into that shit.”

  “Do you think we should tell somebody?”

  I laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “We’re not getting involved. Whatever’s going on around here is none of our business.”

  Sara didn’t say anything.

  “We have to lay low until that road opens,” I said. “No one knows us, and we need to keep it that way. I don’t even think the owner remembers my name. He keeps calling—”

  I stopped, my throat felt tight.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The notebook,” I said. “When we checked in last night the computer was down. Butch wrote my name and address in a notebook.”

  Sara stared at me.

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Did you see where he kept it?”

  “On a shelf under the front desk.”

  “Can you get it back?”

  There was no other option.

  Butch had written down everything, my address, my driver’s license number, all of it. If the cops wanted to find us, that notebook would point the way.

  I had to get it back.

  Sara asked if I was sure I could do it.

  I told her I was.

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  17

  Sara didn’t bother trying to eat.

  I took the plate and scraped the eggs and bacon into the ice bucket then reached for my coat.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Don’t know yet.”

  “Don’t get caught.”

  I told her I’d do my best, then I picked up the empty plate and walked out toward the office. On the way, I heard the rough scrape of Zack’s snow shovel on concrete.

  It sounded far away, and I was glad.

  When I got to the office, Butch was standing behind the desk, spinning the dial on the radio. He looked up as I walked in then said, “Back for more?”

  “Hope it’s not too much trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble at all,” he said. “I don’t believe we’re to the point of rationing just yet.”

  I glanced toward the dining room.

  “Go on, help yourself.”

  Sara wasn’t going to eat anything I brought back, but I needed a reason. I had to stick around long enough to grab the notebook, and I figured this was as good an excuse as any.

  I thanked him and went in.

  The room was exactly how I’d left it. Megan was still at the table with her coffee, and Caroline and Marcus were still playing their game, silent, staring at their cards.

  The silver flask was sitting open in front of Marcus.

  I walked past them to the counter and set the plate next to the eggs.

  “She feeling better?”

  I looked up at Caroline. “Excuse me?”

  “Your girl,” she said. “How’s she feeling?”

  “Better, I think.”

  “That’s good.” She motioned toward the plate. “Is that for her?”

  I nodded. “She’s getting her appetite back at least.”

  “That’s a good sign.” Caroline patted the table next t
o her, and when she spoke I could hear the slow slur deep in her voice. “Why don’t you sit and play a hand. I could use some real competition for once.”

  Marcus didn’t look up, just shook his head, kept quiet.

  “Then you don’t want me,” I said. “I’m not a good gambler. I always lose.”

  “So says the shark.”

  “This time it’s the truth.”

  “Lucky for you, it’s not real money,” Caroline said. “We’re just playing for fun. Do you like poker?”

  “Sure, I guess.”

  “Then have a seat and I’ll deal you in.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “But I can’t. I need to get back.”

  “Well, maybe later,” Caroline said. “We’re all going to be here for a while. The game will continue.”

  “I hope you’re wrong about that,” I said. “I’d like to get back on the road.”

  “Amen.” Marcus looked up from his cards and shouted toward the office, “What’s the word on the weather, Butch?”

  I heard Butch shuffle around in the other room, then a minute later he came in carrying the radio.

  “Signal’s no good in there. I’ll try it in here.”

  He set it on the counter and adjusted the antenna. There was a buzz of static. Butch turned the dial and a flat voice began talking about the sin of Cain.

  “They do news and weather on this station about every hour or so. We’ll keep it here, as long as no one minds listening to the reverend in between.”

  No one said anything.

  While Butch was at the counter, I asked him if I could use the aluminum foil again.

  “Take what you need.”

  I tore off a sheet then said, “I met your nephew this morning.”

  Butch stopped adjusting the antenna and looked at me. “Zack? Where?”

  “Shoveling the walks,” I said. “He was talking to my fiancée when I got back.”

  “He was in your room?”

  “Outside, in the doorway.”

  Butch frowned. “I’ll have a talk with him.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” I said. “I wasn’t trying to get him in trouble.”

  “He knows he’s not supposed to talk to the guests,” Butch said. “If he comes by again, you tell me.”

  There was something in his voice I didn’t like, and it made me think of the shed and the meth lab inside.