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The Waiting

Page 8

by Joe Hart


  Jason’s prior warning of townsfolk and their distrust of outsiders replayed in Evan’s mind. “Just curious, it looks like it could have a history.”

  Arnold laughed in a harsh bark. “Yeah, you could say that again.”

  “So you know about it?”

  Arnold held out an age-spotted hand and tipped it back and forth. “Before our time. It originally belonged to a man named Abel Kluge. Odd fellow, from what I heard, violent sometimes. Lots of rumors floating around about him.” Arnold’s eyes twinkled.

  “What kind of rumors?” Evan said, taking his cue.

  “He was a clockmaker from Chicago back around the turn of the century. There’s some that say he was one of the best in the world. And there’s others that say there’s reasons for that.”

  “Reasons?”

  Arnold lowered his voice and leaned forward. “His success was unnaturally quick in the industry, from what I heard, like people couldn’t buy his work fast enough. Almost like he was selling drugs instead of clocks. A friend of my father’s once told us that he heard the man came from a bloodline steeped in the occult.”

  “The occult?” Evan asked. “Like witchcraft?”

  Arnold shrugged, leaning back into his chair again. “I don’t know about that, but that place he lived in was always dark, in more ways than one. Outsiders tended to stay away from there, people still avoid it like the plague.”

  “So he lived close by?”

  “Oh sure, retired up here and died in his mansion out on Wicker Road, along with his wife.”

  Evan hunched his shoulders as a gust of cool wind came across the lake and ruffled his hair. “They died together? Were they murdered?”

  Wendal glanced at his brother, then shifted his eyes to Evan’s. Arnold didn’t seem to notice and shrugged.

  “That isn’t entirely clear. Mostly rumors, long time ago, like I said. Anyway, the clock was from the house, and some say it stood in their bedroom. Old man Price bought it quite a while ago during an estate sale.”

  “Do you know where I could find out more about this?” The excitement in Evan’s chest hadn’t relented, and he felt a sense of satisfaction at having followed his hunch about the clock.

  Arnold smacked his lips, rolling his eyes toward the sky as he did so. “You could try talkin’ to Cecil Fenz. She was tied to the old place somehow or other, I can’t remember exactly now.”

  “Cecil Fenz,” Evan said. “Do you think she’d mind me talking to her about it?”

  Arnold barked his laugh again. “She minds everyone talkin’ to her about everything. She moved out in the sticks years back, orneriest woman I ever met, and I met a few of ’em.”

  Evan smiled and reached out to shake Arnold’s and Wendal’s hands again. “Thank you, you’ve been a big help.”

  “What you want with all the questions anyway?” Arnold asked.

  “I’m doing a little research for an article. I thought the clock would make a good story.”

  “That it would. Just don’t mention me or my brother as a source, we’re too old to get all wrapped up in gossip.”

  Evan laughed and waved goodbye. He got in the van and closed the door, shutting off the bite of the wind. After scribbling down the name in his notebook, he did a quick White Pages search on his phone and found a number listed for Cecil Fenz, along with an address.

  Listening to the ringing hum on the other end of the line, Evan readied his most charming voice and tried to think of the best way to bring up the subject. A moment later, the line clicked and a woman’s smoky voice answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, is Cecil Fenz there, please?”

  “Who is this?”

  Evan grimaced. Right to the point. “My name is Evan Tormer. You don’t know me, but my son and I are staying on the island in the middle of Long Lake, and I came across an old grandfather clock in the basement—”

  A snap came from Cecil’s end, and dead air hissed in his ear.

  “Hello?”

  He frowned and held the phone out, studied it. Raising his eyes, he noticed Arnold and Wendal looking at him, their expressions smug, as if they knew exactly who he’d called and what kind of reception he’d gotten.

  “Yeah, okay,” Evan said, starting the van and pulling out of the parking lot.

  10

  After picking up Shaun from his therapy, they stopped for lunch at a small diner.

  In honor of how well he did at the hospital, Evan ordered a banana split for dessert, which they shared. The occupational therapist had been extremely pleased with Shaun’s capabilities and willingness to work.

  “You keep doing this good, you can get ice cream every time,” Evan said, helping him with a spoonful of sweets.

  Shaun grinned, his teeth stained with chocolate.

  They arrived on the island in the early afternoon, the sun making a brief appearance before sliding back into cover behind a wall of gray clouds. Shaun fell asleep on the ride across the lake and didn’t wake even when Evan carried him up to the house and laid him on his bed.

  With the house quiet, his mind whispered of sleep, the early session of cleaning catching up to him, but the idea of the story behind the clock wouldn’t leave his head for more than a few minutes. Cecil’s reaction hadn’t dulled his interest in the least; quite the opposite, in fact. Hanging up on him spoke of hidden secrets buried within families and time. The prospect of uncovering them became so appealing, he wondered what was wrong with him. You’re enthused about something, he told himself, as he sat at the kitchen table. How long had it been since he’d felt like this?

  Elle immediately entered his mind, and he stood from his chair, not willing to be dragged down by memories this afternoon. Noticing a little dust and a several specks of dirt on the linoleum, he decided to do some cleaning, to actually earn some of the money that Jason was paying him.

  He found a broom in the closet near the entry. Starting at the sink, Evan swept in the direction of the basement door, herding a nest of dust bunnies above a layer of dirt as he went, his mind wandering to the article and its layout. When the dirt formed a small pyramid in the center of the room, he knelt and started to sweep it into a dustpan but stopped. Leaning forward, he reached into the dust pile and plucked a shining white hair from the center. It unwound from the dirt like a snake uncoiling from its lair, and he saw that it stretched at least two feet. Holding it up in the light, he brought it close to his face. It hung in a pale question mark from his fingers, mirroring his thoughts.

  “Where the hell did this come from?” he asked out loud.

  Had Jason’s grandmother worn her hair long? But that couldn’t be—his grandparents had passed away a decade ago. And if Bob had supposedly been here up until a couple of months before they arrived, how did the hair get missed?

  He dropped it back into the pile, wiping his hand against his jeans. Another glint of white caught his eye, and when he looked closer, he saw that a second strand lay amongst the dust, this one longer than the first.

  The phone on the wall rang loud and shrill, and Evan inhaled and almost sucked up a mouthful of dirt. He stood and stared at the phone on the wall as it trilled again. The panic was quelled inside him as he stepped forward and picked the receiver up.

  “Hello?”

  A slight crackle of static. “Evan?”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s Selena.”

  He turned toward the backyard, leaning against the wall. “Hi, how are you?”

  “Good. I’m calling because I was thinking of going for a paddle later if the lake calms down, and wondered if I could stop in and say hi.”

  No.

  The internal answer to her request startled him. “Sure, that’d be fine. What time are you thinking?”

  “Oh, late afternoon.”

  “That would work, we’ll be here.”

  “Sounds great, see you later.”

  “Bye.”

  Evan hung the phone up and gazed out at the backyard. “What
are you afraid of?” he said.

  The tinkling of the wind chimes was the only answer.

  ~

  A knock at the front door pulled Evan away from the cooking beef. He rumpled Shaun’s hair as he walked by the kitchen table, where the boy played with several toy cars. Smoothing his own hair forward, he opened the door.

  The late-afternoon sunshine outlined Selena in the entryway. Her hair hung past her shoulders in a brown wave that caught the light. She wore a white T-shirt and a pair of khaki shorts that accentuated her legs.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi,” he replied, his heart picking up speed. “Come in, dinner will be ready in a bit.”

  She paused halfway through the entry. “Oh, you don’t have to feed me, I just wanted to pop by, maybe meet Shaun properly.”

  “Come in, it’s fine. I have to cook for us anyway.”

  Evan waved toward the kitchen and Selena smiled, stepping inside.

  “Shaun, this is Selena, do you remember her from the other day?” Evan said, turning Shaun in his chair so that he could face her in the doorway.

  “Hi, Shaun, how are you?” Selena said, putting her hand out as she knelt before him.

  Shaun looked at her for a moment, and then smiled and placed his hand in her own.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said, pumping his arm up and down.

  Selena turned her eyes to Evan’s, and he caught himself smiling at her. Hearing the sizzle of the stove, he made his way to the browning hamburger. After adding some salt and pepper, he stirred the meat until he thought of something to say.

  “So the lake calmed down, huh?”

  Selena gave Shaun one last smile and then stood, framing herself in the doorway. “Yeah, turned out to be great. I was disappointed this morning when I looked outside, I didn’t think I’d be able to get out on the lake today.”

  “Yeah, we went into town when it was rough this morning. Even in the pontoon, it bounced us around. Would you like a glass of wine?” Evan said.

  “That would be great.” Selena pulled out a chair from the table and sat. “So, are you two getting settled in here?”

  He opened a bottle and poured two glasses. “I think so. It’s a little more of a commute into town than we’re used to, but yeah, it’s a good fit for us.”

  He moved to the table and handed Selena her glass. As he did, their fingers brushed and a flutter of pleasure flitted in his stomach.

  “To the evening,” she said, tilting her glass toward him.

  “To the evening.”

  He clinked her glass and took a sip, hoping the wine would calm the nervous energy inside him.

  They ate spaghetti at the table, their conversation comfortable and easy. Every so often Selena would ask Shaun a question, and he would either respond with a waving of one hand or an excited noise. Evan watched Selena, examining her interactions with his son. She didn’t talk baby talk to him, like some other people that knew them, and he was grateful for that. There was nothing more infuriating or frustrating than watching people degrade Shaun’s intelligence through pity.

  He anticipated that Selena would look uncomfortable with Shaun’s movements or lack of proper articulation, but if she was, she didn’t show the slightest hint.

  After a quick cleaning of the kitchen, the three of them settled into the furniture on the porch. The sun hung above the tree line that marked the boundary of Mill River, its light rippling with gentle waves that rolled in colors of cobalt and amber.

  “God, it’s pretty out,” Selena said, gazing at the lake.

  “Yes, it is,” Evan said, placing his wineglass on the patio table. “I’m curious, though.”

  She looked at him, tilting her head.

  “How did you find the phone number for the house?”

  She blushed and licked her lips, casting her gaze at the floor. “I asked my secretary to find out who owns house, and after she told me, I looked up the name online and found a listing.”

  Evan laughed. “Wow.”

  Selena placed a hand over her face. “I know, right? I wasn’t even sure if it was correct or not, but since I didn’t have your cell phone, I worked with what I had.”

  “Industrious.”

  “More like creepy.”

  “Industrious sounds better.”

  She laughed, and Shaun giggled too.

  “Now everyone’s laughing at me,” Selena said, shaking her head.

  “It’s fine, I’m glad you called.”

  She glanced his way, and their eyes met, holding for less than a second, but something connected and then released as he looked down into his wineglass.

  “Me too.”

  A silence stretched out, broken only by Shaun talking to his cars and the tinkling of the wind chimes.

  “Professional question,” Evan said after a while.

  “Oh no, here it comes,” Selena said, smiling.

  “Nothing too weird, I’m actually curious about cabin fever.”

  “Why, are you already feeling isolated out here?”

  “No, nothing like that, it’s just—”

  He hovered over the subject, not knowing whether to get into it or not. The night was going so well.

  “The former caretaker here, Bob, he disappeared a couple months ago.”

  Selena frowned. “Yeah, I think I heard something about that.”

  Evan nodded. “People seem to think he walked off in the middle of winter. Is that common with someone in isolation?”

  Selena pursed her lips. “It can be. The claustrophobia and isolated feeling people get after being alone or confined to a small area for a period of time usually results in them doing something that’s out of character.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like someone who is normally an early riser sleeps longer and longer into the day. Peaceful people become irritable, violent sometimes. Reason can be lost if the person doesn’t do anything to remedy the situation.”

  “So wandering off into the woods in the middle of winter could be a possibility?”

  “Sure. And mind you, some people are more resistant to isolation than others, they can handle being alone and not be any worse for wear.” She studied his expression. “Why do you ask?”

  Evan drained the last of his wine, feeling the pleasant buzz weaken with the conversation. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

  “If I had a quarter.”

  He chuckled. “I bet. No, it’s—” He glanced at Shaun, who intently watched the lake. “It’s disturbing being here when I don’t know what happened to the last guy, you know? I have these feelings that ... that he isn’t really gone.”

  “You mean, like he’s hiding somewhere on the island?”

  Evan frowned. “Maybe? I don’t know. It’s unsettling, that’s all.”

  “I can see how it could be, you have a ton of responsibility,” she said, motioning to Shaun. “The weight of that sometimes does funny things to our minds. Makes us worry when there isn’t anything to fear. Not to say you’re unstable. A new location coupled with the last caretaker’s disappearance might have sent your protectiveness into overdrive.”

  Evan sat back in his chair, surprised by how much Selena’s words made sense. “I never thought about it that way. You’re probably right.”

  “A girl never gets tired of hearing that.”

  He smiled. “Would you like another glass of wine?”

  ~

  An hour later, he walked Selena to the door. The evening fell around the island in a cool hush that brought stillness to everything. Even the waves along the shoreline seemed calmer.

  Selena paused on the stoop. “I had a really nice time tonight with you guys, thank you for dinner.”

  “No problem, it’s great to have company, keeps the cabin fever away.”

  She laughed and pulled out a business card from her pocket. “My home number’s on the back. I transfer it to my cell when I’m out in case I get an emergency call from the office for a patient.”
/>   He reached out to take the card from her, a simple act, but one that held so much more weight for him. He hesitated before accepting it. A small flash of uncertainty crossed Selena’s face.

  “Thank you,” he said, as lightly as he could. “And you already have mine.”

  She blushed again and nodded. “Have a nice night,” she said, holding out her hand.

  He took it, feeling the softness of her skin again, and instead of shaking it, he just held it for a moment before letting go. “You too.”

  She turned and moved toward the dock, and he watched her go, wanting to say more, and at the same time, glad the night was over. When she was out of sight, he carried Shaun to the bathroom and helped him brush his teeth.

  “So what did you think of Selena, buddy? Was she okay?”

  He nodded once and exposed his foamy teeth.

  “Does that mean we should have her over for dinner again?”

  “Na,” he said, smiling.

  “No?” Evan laughed and tickled his son’s sides. “What do you mean, no? I thought you liked her.”

  Shaun giggled and tried to bat Evan’s hands away.

  “Okay, okay, let’s finish brushing.”

  Evan glanced at the clock after they finished in the bathroom. “It’s still a little early to go to bed, do you want to find another documentary on the TV?”

  Shaun struggled to get down from his arms, in an effort to get to the couch faster.

  “All right, let’s do it.”

  He placed Shaun on the couch and walked to the entertainment center to grab the remote, looking out the windows at the evening—

  —and saw the outline of a body floating in the water.

  His eyes widened, and the remote slipped from his hand, snapping against the floor and spewing its batteries out like a rotten meal.

  “Oh God,” Evan said.

  A moment of indecision gripped him, and then he ran toward the door.

  “Shaun, stay right there.”

  His fingers fumbled at the doorknob for an agonizing second, and then he flew down the steps, onto the grass, the dew of the evening wetting his socks. As he ran, he hoped he was seeing things again, perhaps a trick of the failing light on the water. Maybe a piece of driftwood or something like it. But no, the shape was there, clearer this time, floating past the end of the dock. It looked like a man, facedown ... definitely facedown.

 

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