The Town

by Bentley Little

  The attic was one of the old kind that he’d seen before in movies but never in real life. The entrance was not a small square hidden in the ceiling of the bedroom closet, as the attic in their California house had been. It was a large rectangle in the ceiling at the end of the upstairs hall, and when he unfastened the chain from its hook and pulled on it, a fold-out wooden ladder slid down. The attic itself paralleled the hall below and was slightly wider, tall enough for him to stand up in the center. They’d used it so far to store some of the boxes that had formerly been in their garage, and Julia had made him get a lock for the entrance so that the kids couldn’t play in there. He could reach the lock standing on tiptoe, but everyone else in the house needed a chair. He kept the only key on his ring.

  He’d thought her precautions a little excessive at first—after all, the kids weren’t babies anymore—but now he was glad of them.

  Gregory unlocked the lock, pulled on the chain, walked up the ladder.

  Once inside, he pulled the ladder up and shut the trapdoor behind him. Walking to the end of the room, he reached up to a shelf above the small dormer window and took down the gun case.

  He opened the case, took out his revolver.

  He touched the cold metal, hefted the gun’s weight in his hand. He’d bought the revolver yesterday, and though he hadn’t told anyone about it, already he felt different, more confident. There’d been no more graffiti, no more vandalism, but he was ready if there was. He pointed the unloaded weapon at the opposite wall and pretended to fire. Any criminal who violated the sanctity of his home had better be prepared to face the consequences.

  He’d wanted to tell Paul and Odd about his purchase, thought about telling them, but in the end he decided to keep it to himself. He’d been brought up in a household and a culture of pacifism, and for the most part those beliefs had taken. He felt right now like a little boy sneaking behind his parents’ backs to smoke behind the barn. He was doing something he shouldn’t, something he knew to be wrong, and on some level, he supposed, he was embarrassed about it.

  But it gave him a sense of empowerment, and because of his background, because of his upbringing, he also felt like a pioneer, a rebel paving the way for others to follow.

  He’d brought the gun into the house in a brown paper bag, and when Julia asked him what it was, he’d merely smiled and said nothing. The kids were still at school, and shortly afterward, she’d taken the van to drop something off at Deanna’s. His mother was asleep in her room.

  So he’d taken the gun and its case out of the bag and brought it up to the attic. He’d originally planned to keep it under his bed, but he knew Julia might see it there, and so he decided on the attic instead. No one else ever went up there, and he could be assured that his purchase would remain a secret. He would not be able to get to it quickly, would not be able to stop a home-invasion robbery in progress, but that was not the kind of crime that happened too often in McGuane, and it was not the situation for which he was preparing. He was after the people who had defaced his home, the bigoted redneck assholes who blamed him and his family for the recent deaths and problems in town.

  He looked down at the revolver in his hand and there was a sense of soothing satisfaction as he imagined the scenario: waking up in the middle of the night after hearing a noise, getting his weapon and going outside, surprising the intruder, the vandal dropping his spray can, going for his gun, and then clutching his chest as Gregory beat him to the draw and blew him away.

  “Gregory!” Julia’s muffled voice called from downstairs.

  He quickly slipped the revolver back into its case, shoved it back on the shelf, and quietly opened the trapdoor, hurrying down the ladder.

  “Gregory!” Julia called.

  “What?” he replied, and he smiled to himself as he closed the attic door, locked it, and headed downstairs.

  3

  Though it was cold, Gregory had left the van at home today, walking to work in order to burn off some of his fat. Julia drove down to the café around noon, thinking the two of them could have a pleasant little lunch together.

  But the young woman grinding coffee behind the counter for an elderly man told her that she hadn’t seen Gregory all morning.

  That was strange. Before leaving home, he’d specifically mentioned that he was going to the café today because the sound system needed some fiddling. Her first thought was that something might have happened to him. She hurried back to Paul’s office and found him going over invoices. Alone.

  “Have you seen Gregory this morning?” she asked.

  He frowned. “Gregory? He hasn’t been here all week.”

  “He said he was going to work on the sound system today.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the sound system.”

  She didn’t know what to say. Obviously, he had lied to her. Which meant nothing had happened to him and he was off doing something else, something secret, something he didn’t want her to know about.

  She wondered if he was seeing someone else, if he was having an affair.

  “Odd!” Paul called out. He smiled at Julia. “Don’t worry. We’ll track him down.”

  From the alley in back of the café came a “Wait a sec!” and a moment later, Odd walked into the office, wiping greasy hands on an equally greasy rag. “Yeah?”

  “Have you seen Gregory today?”

  The old man nodded. “Sure. He was sitting on one of the benches in the park reading a magazine about twenty minutes ago. I think he was going to go over to the bar afterward. The Miner’s Tavern.” He looked sideways at Julia. “He don’t drink much, but he seems to have some kind of feeling for that place, although I don’t rightly know what it is.”

  She smiled thinly. “Thanks.”

  Odd nodded. “That all, boss?”

  Paul grinned, waved him away. He turned toward Julia. “You going over there to get him?”

  She shook her head. “I was going to meet him for lunch, but I guess I’ll just go home.”

  “You’re welcome to join me,” Paul said. “I was getting ready to eat myself.”

  She thought for a moment, then smiled. “Thanks,” she said. “I’d like that.”

  “Grab yourself a table out there. I’ll just wash up and join you.”

  She walked out of his office to the café proper, sitting down at a table near the window. Paul joined her a moment later. “Our lunch menu isn’t too extensive. How about a pizza bagel?”

  “Sounds delicious,” she told him.

  “And coffee?”

  “Iced cappuccino?”

  “Iced cappuccino it is.” He walked over to the counter, spoke to the girl, then returned and sat down across from her.

  “I don’t mean to pry,” he said. “And I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but how are things with you and Gregory?”

  She shrugged noncommittally. “Okay.”

  “Lying to you? Not telling you where he’s going?” He held up a hand. “I know it’s none of my business, and you can tell me to buzz off, but that doesn’t sound ‘okay’ to me.”

  “I’m sure there’s a reason for it. I’m sure there’s less here than meets the eye.”

  “Maybe.” He nodded. “Maybe. But like I said, he hasn’t stopped by all week, and the last few times I’ve seen him, he’s seemed a little distracted, a little . . . I don’t know. Lost.”

  Lost. It was a good word, and it described her take on the situation perfectly. She was tempted to talk to Paul, to tell him everything—about Gregory’s increasing coldness toward her and the kids, the trouble they were all having adjusting to McGuane, even her little adventure up in Russiantown. But Paul was Gregory’s friend, not hers, and while he seemed sympathetic, she knew where his loyalties lay.

  On the other hand, she’d already opened up enough to tell him that Gregory was MIA today, and perhaps if they talked he could shed some light on what was happening, offer a different perspective. He was Gregory’s friend, and perhaps that me
ant he was as concerned about Gregory as she was.

  She took a deep breath. Started talking.

  She left out the supernatural stuff, the hints of weirdness and suspicions of hauntings—she needed all the credibility she could muster here—but she ran down everything that had happened since they’d won the lottery. They had changed, she said, drifted apart. And it wasn’t the money, she emphasized. It was . . . this place. Sometime in the middle of the conversation the girl arrived with their food and coffee, but Julia didn’t stop, didn’t pause, just kept going, until, finally, drained, she leaned back in her chair.

  Paul was silent for a moment. “I . . . I don’t know what to say,” he admitted.

  “That’s okay.” She smiled at him. “I think I just needed to get it off my chest. I needed a sympathetic ear more than helpful advice.” She took a bite of the now-cold pizza bagel, a huge sip of the coffee.

  “I can’t help but think that if you told Gregory this, sat him down and explained it to him exactly the same way you explained it to me, he would understand. I mean, he’s not a bad guy. And he’s not a dumb guy. And I’m sure he realizes something’s wrong. I know it sounds corny and clichéd, but maybe the two of you just need to communicate. If you sit down without the kids and the grandma and just talk to each other—”

  “That’s the problem. We don’t seem to be able to talk to each other lately.”

  “He’s going through something, and I don’t think either of us knows what it is.” Paul finished his coffee, motioned for more. “I don’t want to sound like some pop psychologist, but I can tell you that he got a lot more secretive, a lot more withdrawn, after his dad died. There wasn’t a big personality change or anything, but he went through some kind of head trip, something that he didn’t tell any of us about, any of his friends. Maybe coming back here—and living with his mom again—brought some of that back.”

  Julia nodded. “I’ve thought of that,” she agreed.

  “And I’m hoping that’s all it is. I’m hoping he just needs a little space, a little time to get himself together and sort things through. And I’m trying to give that to him. But life doesn’t stop just because you have a few problems to work out. And, besides, I’m his wife. He’s supposed to be working them out with me. It’s not as if I’ve ever been uncaring or unsympathetic. I think he knows he can come to me with anything, that I’ll always be here for him. We’re partners here. Or at least we’re supposed to be.”

  “Give it a little more time,” Paul suggested.

  “I have no choice. What else can I do?”

  They were silent for a few minutes, Julia finishing her food, Gregory getting a refill on his coffee.

  “No relationship’s perfect,” Paul said finally. “There are always problems.”

  Julia waved him away. “You think I don’t know that by now? As long as we’ve been married?”

  Paul took a deep breath. “You know, Deanna and I are having some problems too,” he said. He held up a quick hand. “Nothing serious, nothing we haven’t been through before, but in the peaks-and-valleys scenario we’re in a valley right now.”

  She smiled. “Maybe it’s catching.”

  “Maybe,” he said. But he did not smile.

  She leaned forward. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re Deanna’s friend. I was hoping you could tell me. I know she talks to you—”

  “Yeah, but not about that. I was under the impression that everything was fine between you two.”

  “Maybe it is,” he said. “Maybe I’m reading more into this than I should. I hope I am. I love Deanna more now than I ever have, but lately she’s been kind of bitchy.”

  “PMS?” Julia suggested, joking.

  He reddened. “No, it’s not that.”

  She was immediately sorry she’d mentioned it. “I didn’t mean to make light of—”

  “Don’t worry,” he assured her. “I know you’re not serious.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” she asked.

  He sighed. “I suppose we could spy on each others’ spouses, report back to each other.”

  “Is that a joke?” she asked uncertainly.

  “Yeah. That’s a joke.”

  “If you’d like me to talk to her, I will.”

  “No. I was just kind of curious if she’d said anything to you.”

  Julia shook her head. “Like I said, I had the impression that everything was fine.”

  “She hasn’t seemed bitchy to you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Maybe it’s all in my head. Or maybe she’s jealous because she’s been hanging around you so much lately. After all, you’re a very attractive woman.” He tried to laugh it off, but the humor fell flat and she felt slightly uncomfortable.

  She pushed her chair away from the table, stood.

  “Well, I’d better get going.”

  He nodded, his face red.

  “If you do see Gregory this afternoon, you might mention that I stopped by, looking for him.”

  “I’ll do that,” Paul promised.

  “Do I owe you anything for . . .” She gestured toward the table.

  “On the house,” he said.

  She smiled. “Thanks.”

  He looked at her, and once again she felt uncomfortable. “You’re welcome.”

  Adam and Teo confronted her that afternoon.

  She picked them up from their respective schools, and they were both unusually silent on the ride back. The temperature was stuck somewhere in the mid-fifties and, though the heater was on in the van, neither of them bothered to take off their heavy jackets.

  It was Teo, sitting in the back, who brought it up.

  “Dad was married before, wasn’t he?”

  She’d known this day would come sometime, but it still threw her for a loop. She managed to remain on an even keel, to show no surprise, and she nodded. She and Gregory had decided years ago that they would handle this matter-of-factly, and so she said, “Yes, he was.”

  In her peripheral vision, she saw Adam turn in his seat and look back at his sister, giving her a meaningful glance that Julia could not see to interpret.

  She stuck to the party line, the tack they’d decided to take. “Your father was very young, and he made a mistake. He realized that early, and he got a divorce, and we met after that.”

  “Her name was Andrea, wasn’t it?” Adam’s voice was hostile.

  “Yes, it was. But, like I said, he realized his mistake early. Which just goes to show you why you should not rush into things and why people should not get married too young.”

  “How old was he?” Teo asked.

  “About twenty.”

  “How old were you when you and dad got married?”

  She took a deep breath. “About twenty-three.”

  “That’s not much difference,” Adam said.

  “You and Teo are three years apart. You don’t think there’s any difference in maturity there?”

  “No!” Teo announced from the back.

  “I guess so,” Adam admitted grudgingly.

  They were all silent. Julia knew there were more questions they wanted to ask, but she did not want to volunteer any information. She waited to see what they would come up with.

  The next question, from Adam, was a surprise.

  “When did Sasha find out?”

  She looked back at him. “I’m not sure she knows. She’s never asked about it.”

  That brought him back into her corner. The hostility was gone. He was shocked and disturbed to find out that his father had already been married and divorced before starting their family, but the fact that he knew something his older sister did not almost made up for it.

  “Does Dad like you better than that other woman?” Teo asked.

  That other woman. Julia liked that. She smiled. “Yes, because he divorced her and married me and we had you children and we’ve been together now for almost twenty years.”

  “Did you have another husband before Dad?”r />
  “No,” she said. “Your father is my only husband.”

  That seemed to satisfy them. There were no other questions immediately forthcoming.

  She pulled into the drive. “We’ll talk about it some more with your father when he gets home.”

  “Do we have to?” Adam asked.

  “Well, he can explain better—”

  “I don’t want to!” Teo announced.

  “He was the one—”

  “Can’t we just pretend like we don’t know?” Teo whined.

  “Yeah.” Adam looked at her. “I’m sorry I found out. I didn’t mean to.”

  They were both upset, upset and a little frightened, and she thought of Gregory’s recent behavior. She pulled to a stop, turned off the van’s engine. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “You don’t have to discuss it with your father if you don’t want to.”

  They needed time to adjust, she decided. They needed to think about it a little more before they felt up to talking.

  She would bring it up with Gregory herself tonight, when they were alone in bed, and tell him not to let on that he knew they knew.

  Adam fixed her with a look so adult and sincere that it almost broke her heart. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Yeah,” Teo echoed, “thanks, Mom.”

  The phone began ringing the instant she walked through the door, and she tossed her purse and keys on the coffee table in the living room as she ran to answer it.

  Adam and Teo raced each other to the kitchen to find some snacks.

  She kept her eyes on the phone across the room, wondering who was calling. She was suddenly aware of how rare an occurrence this had become. Back in California, the phone had rung constantly—calls for Sasha, mostly, but also quite a few for herself. Here in McGuane, however, very few people called. The telephone was seldom used, and what had been an ordinary part of everyday life had become almost an event. It brought home to her how much her social circle had shrunk and how much she missed her old life.

  She answered the phone on the third ring. “Hello?”

  It was Debbie, and Julia’s heart lifted as she heard her old friend’s voice. “Greetings from sunny California. How goes it, stranger?”