Daunting Days of Winter

by Ray Gorham

  Kyle handed Roman a piece of paper with a series of numbers that Frank had written down for him, and Roman studied it as he walked to another door that led out the back of the barn.

  Roman was gone a few minutes, then Kyle heard the roar of a generator. A small fluorescent light flickered on above him, and Roman returned.

  “I don’t think I know this Frank person. What you want to tell him?”

  “I need to see if he’s had any contact with my family or town and make sure everything is okay. I’ve been gone for almost a month now.”

  “That’s it? You just want to say ‘how’s it going?’”

  “Well, I don’t have a script. I just want to see how things are for my family and my friends there.”

  “Okay. If that what you want, we get to work.” Roman’s fingers flew expertly across the keypads and dials on the old radio. After thirty seconds of adjusting, he grabbed the mic and keyed it. “This Big Polack looking for Silver Fox, Frank Emory. Over.”

  “How do you know his name is Silver Fox?”

  Roman shrugged. “I call all Americans on the radio Silver Fox. It’s good American name. You have problem with that?”

  “Not. Just thought maybe you actually knew Frank or something.”

  Roman chuckled, wiped something from his eye, then continued to adjust the dials. “Shhh. This hard work.”

  Kyle waited patiently as Roman worked for another fifteen minutes, adjusting dials and talking into the microphone, but there was no success.

  Roman finally got up without saying a word, walked outside, and shut off the generator. He returned with a grim look. “How far away is this Frank guy?”

  “Maybe three hundred miles, a little less probably.”

  Roman slapped his forehead. “I need to adjust antenna. This set up for Poland, for longer distance. You come back in week. I adjust antenna and keep trying your friend, Frank. Write down what I should tell him.”

  Kyle took a pen from his pocket and wrote a short note with a number of questions in large, clear letters. When he was done he handed it over.

  Roman took the note and read it over, mumbling to himself as he did so. “Alright, got it. You school teacher?”

  Kyle shook his head. “No, why?”

  “You write very big.” He shrugged. “Come back in seven days, alright?”

  Kyle nodded. “I’ll be back in seven days.”

  Roman grabbed Kyle by the shoulder and spun him back around as he was about to leave. He smiled widely. “Good deal for fifty cents, no?”

  Kyle returned the smile. “Good deal for fifty cents.”

  CHAPTER 44

  Saturday, February 25th

  Deer Creek, MT

  “Are you sure about this?” Ty asked, with daylight fading as he peered from the cover of a fir tree at a neighboring house.

  Sean nodded. “I’ve been watching him all week, as much as I can, plus I’ve stopped by twice, but he won’t talk to me. There’s definitely something that’s not right.”

  “Are the three of us going to be enough?”

  Sean shrugged. “There’s just one of him, so I hope so. I’ve never seen him with a gun, and we’re armed, so it should be pretty simple.” He paused and waited. “I can see him through the window. He just went into the back. Let’s move while we still have light.” Sean motioned with his hand, then he, Ty and Craig emerged and hurried in the direction of their target.

  Ty ran to the side of the house, and Sean and Craig approached the front. Craig concealed himself to the side of the door while Sean banged on the door with his fist. “Dale, I need to talk to you. Open up, please!” There was no response, so he pounded on the door again.

  “You sure he’s home?” Craig whispered.

  “I saw him through the window. I’m sure of it.” Sean reached out and tried the door, but it was locked. “I’m going to check around back. You wait here,” he muttered, and had just taken a couple of steps away from the door when there was an explosion of sound behind him, and a hole was blown through the top of the door.

  “Shotgun!” Craig yelled, diving from the porch for cover. “You okay?” he asked as he rolled up against the front of the house. “I thought you said he didn’t have a gun.”

  Sean had fallen to the ground and rolled to the side. He felt the back of his head. “I’m fine. He missed me. You?”

  “My ears are ringing, but that’s it. Now what?”

  “Get off my property, Sean!” Dale’s voice carried through the hole in the front door. The sound of a shotgun being pumped followed it. “If I see you near me again, I’ll blow your head off!”

  “This makes it a little more complicated, but confirms my suspicions,” Sean whispered to Craig as he quickly crawled toward the front of the house, situating himself beside Craig under the living room window. He found a large rock, hefted it in his hand for a few seconds, then tossed it through the window above him. Glass shattered and crashed to the ground. “Dale, you’re just making this worse!” Sean cried out. “Come out and let’s talk. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  The shotgun blasted again, and what little glass remained in the window exploded outwards. “I’ve got nothing to talk about. Just get away from me, understand? You’re a make-believe-cop, and I don’t recognize your authority.”

  “Keep talking to him,” Sean said to Craig. “I’m going around back. If he doesn’t come out in a couple of minutes, fire four shots, five seconds apart. I’ll try and get the door open with the sledge hammer while you do that.”

  “What am I supposed to say?”

  Sean shrugged. “Make something up. Just keep him by the front door.” He patted Craig on the shoulder and scrambled towards the back of the house. He could hear Craig yelling at Dale to drop his weapon as he reached Ty at the side of the house.

  “You said he didn’t have a gun,” Ty said as Sean passed.

  “I didn’t know, alright. The kid surprised me. Come with me to the back.”

  “Am I going to get shot?” Ty asked. “I told my wife this was just routine business. She’ll kill me if I get hurt.”

  Sean laughed. “You can stay back. I just need your eyes.”

  The two men hurried to the back of the house and quickly climbed the stairs to the back door. Ty held his pistol in one hand, and a sledgehammer in the other. Sean’s shotgun was at his side as he reached out for the doorknob, grabbed the cold metal, and twisted. Finding no resistance, he turned the knob the rest of the way and carefully pushed the door open. “Wait here,” he whispered to Ty, then crept into the house. The back entryway was covered in mud and smelled of rotting meat. As he crept into the kitchen, he saw a skinned rabbit spread over the kitchen table and a bucket on the floor filled with feathers and fur.

  Sean spun around as Dale’s voiced boomed from the next room. “If you don’t leave, I’ll shoot you. I promise!”

  Dale’s threat was followed by Craig’s voice, sounding distorted and strained. “I don’t want a shoot out. Put your gun down, and we can work this out.”

  Sean let out a deep breath and reached for the table to steady himself, knocking a knife perched on the edge of the table to the floor in the process, where it bounced with a metallic clang. Sean paused, listened, aimed his gun at the door that led from the kitchen, and waited.

  “Just come outside, Dale. This is the last time I’m asking!!” Craig’s voice sounded through the house.

  There was no movement, so Sean moved towards the door and slowly pulled it open, exposing a cluttered dining area beyond which he could see the front door with a hole blown through it. The living room was past where he could see. He pulled the door wider and was about to move forward when he felt cold metal pressed against the side of his face.

  “You ever hear of the Castle Doctrine?” Dale asked in a whisper.

  Sean closed his eyes, swallowed, and nodded.

  “Then you know it means I can shoot someone who comes in my house, and not be charged with anything.”

/>   “Please don’t, Dale. I have a son.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “What’s it going to be?” Craig’s voice carried through the broken window at the front of the house.

  “Is that your brother out there?”

  Sean nodded.

  “I’m going to kill him next, you know.” He pressed his rifle harder against Sean’s cheek. “I see your gun moving. Drop it right now.”

  Sean dropped his weapon to the ground. “Please, Dale. Don’t make things worse.”

  “Worse? How could things get any worse? The country’s screwed, my mother’s dying, and you want to arrest me. Don’t you?”

  “I wanted to talk to you, and your mother.”

  “I’m not stupid. Get on your knees and beg. You only have a few seconds left to live, and I want you to die like a coward.”

  Sean slowly knelt and clasped his shaking hands in front of himself. “Please, Dale, don’t do this. I beg you.”

  Dale smirked as he raised his weapon. “You can go to hell and wait there for your brother. He’ll be joining you soon.”

  There was a gunshot and a flash, and the small kitchen was filled with an ear-shattering roar of sound.

  ***

  Emma’s eyes opened wide as Grace carefully brought the cake up the basement stairs. The words “Happy Birthday Emma” were written in blue, contrasting sharply with the white icing that covered the cake.

  “Mom,” Emma gasped. “Is it real?”

  Jennifer nodded. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Emma’s eyes glowed, her head swiveling slowly to follow Grace as she carried the cake around the table. “I can’t believe we have a real cake, Mom.”

  Grace grinned. “Believe it, Emma. Made from scratch like they did it when I was a little girl, so it might taste a little different than you’re used to.”

  “Is that real frosting, too?”

  Grace set the cake down in front of Emma. “I didn’t have powdered sugar, but I did the best I could. Should still taste pretty good.”

  Spencer reached out, jabbed a finger in the icing, and snatched it back before Emma could stop him, then plunged it quickly in his mouth. As he swallowed, his expression was one of near ecstasy. “It’s good!” he declared.

  Emma cast him an angry glare, but refrained from saying anything. “There aren’t any candles to blow out, so can we just cut it now?”

  Grace grabbed a knife and began cutting the cake. “I had to cook it in the Dutch oven, which is why it’s round,” she said as she sliced it into pie-shaped pieces. “But it baked up just as well as in a regular oven. I’ve gotten pretty good with these old Dutch ones. Here.” She placed a piece of cake on a plate and set it in front of Emma. “You have the first bite, and tell us how it is.”

  Everyone watched as Emma quickly cut off a bite with the edge of her fork and scooped it into her mouth. She chewed slowly, closing her eyes as she did so. “It’s sooo good,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “I forgot what cake tasted like.”

  “I want some,” Spencer said, anxious to get in on the celebration. “The big piece.” He pointed to a slice of cake that was a shade bigger than the others.

  “That’s for David,” Emma said. “He’s bigger, and he works harder than you do.” She slowly put another piece of cake in her mouth and gently bit down on it. “I’m going to make this last all night,” she announced. “It’s delicious.”

  Jennifer took a bite and groaned. “I think we’re all going to be sick tomorrow. Our systems will be in shock.”

  The group savored the cake, speaking little, just slowly, deliberately, taking one precious bite after another. When the cake was gone, it was time for presents, and Emma eagerly received each gift with a hug and a smile. The presents were simple and unwrapped, though Jennifer had found a few recycled gift bags that had been put to use. Emma’s gifts included a pretty, pink, oval-shaped rock that Spencer found and polished, a figurine that Jennifer had recovered from their old house, and a “get out of chores” coupon from David. Her friend, Britney, gave her two books, and Carol presented a bracelet with charms from Mexico, Italy, and several other countries she’d visited, while Grace gave Emma a hand-stitched quilt.

  “You don’t have to give that up, you know,” Jennifer said when Grace brought the quilt out for Emma. “That’s supposed to be for your granddaughter.”

  Emma pressed the quilt against her chest, giving her mother a pleading look.

  “I want to give it to Emma,” Grace said. “I’ll just make another one for Tabitha. It’s not like I don’t have lots of time.”

  Emma’s squeal of delight was cut off by a knock at the door.

  Carol answered the door, finding Sean and Gabe on the porch, and invited them in. “You missed all the cake,” she said as they surveyed the scene, “but you can help us sing Happy Birthday again. It’s Emma’s birthday today.”

  “That’s great,” Gabe said. “I didn’t know it was your birthday, young lady. How old are you?”

  “I’m eleven,” Emma answered in a sing-songy voice. “Look at my new quilt.”

  Sean let out a low whistle. “That’s really nice. Who’d you get that from?”

  Emma pointed across the room. “Grace gave it to me. She was making it for her granddaughter, but she decided I could have it.”

  “That was really nice of her,” Gabe said. “How about we sing, then Sean and I need to talk to your mother. We have some good news.”

  Jennifer’s ears perked up, and Sean gave her a reassuring smile.

  The group sang a rousing rendition of “Happy Birthday”, then Jennifer grabbed a jacket and went out on the front step with the men, her curiosity barely contained.

  “What’s up?”

  Gabe looked at Sean and motioned for him to be the spokesperson. “We know Kyle isn’t guilty of the rape, or the murder, or anything.”

  “That’s it? It took you this long to realize that? I’ve known that since the day you took him into custody. Now he’s who knows where, and you come tell me this?”

  Gabe reached out for Jennifer’s arm and squeezed it softly. “Jennifer. I’m sorry for what has happened to you. I really am. What you don’t know is that we know who did it. We have a witness. Kyle can come home.”

  Jennifer placed a hand on her chest, taking a step back. “You’re saying that he…” She struggled to find the right words.

  Sean stepped forward. “We’re saying that if he was in jail, we’d be unlocking his cell right now. We’ll let the people in Clinton know in the morning, but he’s absolutely, one hundred percent innocent. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “How’d this happen?”

  Sean sighed, pursing his lips. “It’s a long story.”

  Jennifer looked closely at him. “Is that blood on your neck?”

  Sean rubbed his neck and nodded. “I thought I’d cleaned it off, but it’s not mine. Our friend Ty Lewis saved my life, like he did you and Kyle on the mountain.”

  Jennifer hands began to shake. “What happened?”

  “That’s not important right now. We’re here about Kyle.” Sean paused to gather his thoughts. “That whole thing never sat right with me, you know. Kyle just didn’t seem like the kind person to do what he was accused of, but everything, and I mean everything, pointed to him. After Rose vouched for his character, I went back over to Dale’s to talk to him again. He was the last one to see the girl alive, but he wouldn’t hardly talk to me, just kept to the same story, and wouldn’t let me talk to his mother, Lois, either. Got real nervous when I asked to see her.”

  “Lois hasn’t been around at all lately. I’m not sure if you knew that,” Gabe said. “We all thought she was sick.”

  Jennifer shook her head. “I didn’t know. When this all happened to Kyle, I quit working at the school, and that was the only place I ever saw her.”

  Sean nodded. “When I went back home, my sister-in-law told me Lois had only been to school one day since the murder. Aft
er that, Dale would come by every few days and make an excuse for her, which made me suspicious.”

  “Dale did it, didn’t he?” Jennifer’s lips were trembling.

  Sean nodded. “Yeah, it was him. I went back over to Dale’s house with Craig and Ty. When Dale wouldn’t open the door, we took matters into our own hands. We probably violated the Constitution, but we found his mother. She was locked up in a room in the basement. Dale was keeping her prisoner and slowly starving her to death, because she knew what had happened and was going to tell us.”

  “I thought she told you she’d seen the girl leave.”

  Sean nodded. “She did. I interviewed her myself, and she was pretty adamant about it. Assured me the girl was fine when she left. Turns out that Dale had threatened to kill her, and himself, and whoever else he could hurt if she told me anything. He assured her that no one would get blamed for it. Apparently he didn’t know that the house he put her in was yours. He just knew it was empty. The rest was just a bad coincidence for Kyle. When Dale found out, with the bad blood between them, he just went along with it.”

  Jennifer shook her head. “I can’t believe Kyle was almost executed, and that I almost died, because of this. When is Dale’s trial going to start? I want to see him humiliated like Kyle was.”

  “There isn’t going to be a trial, Jennifer.”

  Jennifer glared as Sean, the starlight sufficient for both men to read her thoughts. “You’ll drag Kyle through the mud, but not him?” she shouted, unable to contain her rage. “I can’t believe this. I hate this town.”

  Sean held up his hands. “Jennifer, stop,” he interrupted. “Dale’s dead. There can’t be a trial. It’s taken care of.”

  Jennifer paused, and she looked to Gabe, who nodded. She felt herself get dizzy and reached for the railing.

  Gabe shifted nervously from foot to foot. “I’m so sorry, Jennifer. I feel responsible for this. We tried to do our best, we really did, but we obviously failed pretty tragically.”