8-Track

by L. J. Lahage

  Bill put his hand up to his face and ran it over his brown beard. “Yeah, that’d be great. I don't wanna take anyone else's job though.”

  “You won’t be, I can pay you ten dollars an hour and lend you tools for the...”

  Bill put his hand up in a stopping motion. “No, thank you. I had all my tools sent up. They’re sitting in my garage right now.”

  Eli raised a brow, stood up and smiled. “No shit huh, sounds like you think ahead. I’ll give you the directions to my place, I’m off Route 104 in Meredith. Let me grab a pen and some paper.”

  “Sure.” Bill noticed the far wall in the kitchen, it was covered with photographs. He threw his cup away and went over, leaning in and looking at the faces in the pictures. Some were dated, 1959, 1964 and 1970. Bill’s eyes stopped on one picture, it was a photo of Eli when he was younger. He was sitting on the hood of a black Pontiac GTO next to another man. Several men were standing around, one of them had a scar running down his cheek. The letters OMC were written on the back of another man’s vest. A heavy hand on Bill’s shoulder startled him.

  It was Eli, he unfolded a road map and began writing on the side of it. “You shouldn’t have any problems, just follow this. I put my phone number on there in case ya change your mind.” Eli handed the map to Bill.

  “Yeah, I know this area.”

  Eli slapped his shoulder.

  “Think nothing of it, that’s how we do things up here. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  ***

  The sky was clear the next morning, the air a bit warmer. It was eight forty-two when Bill turned down Baxter Ave, parking in front of Eli’s home. The oversized traditional Cape was stunning and even boasted an attached two car garage. Bill noticed the roof, it was cedar and stained a blond ash. Eli’s Lincoln was parked in the driveway next to an old blue Chevy pickup. One of the garage doors was open. Bill took a quick look as he passed by.

  On the left was a beautiful red Karmann Ghia. In front of it and to the right stood a work bench, small hand tools were hung neatly on a peg board over it. Bill noticed how clean and organized it was, even the floor shined. He observed from afar until the mirrored chrome stole his attention. The Harley Davidson parked in the corner was something to marvel at. Bill was admiring the motorcycle when he read the sign hanging on the wall. “When we do right, nobody remembers. When we do wrong, nobody forgets.” I wonder what that’s supposed to mean?

  An attractive Asian woman, who looked to be in her early forties, opened the front door before Bill could even knock. She spoke in broken English. “Hello, you are Bill?”

  “Yes, I’m Bill,” he replied extending his arm and shaking the woman’s smooth hand.

  “My name Bitty, Eli expecting you, please come in.” Eli was putting on his vest when they entered into the kitchen. “Hey man, you ready?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “You wanna coffee for the road?” Eli asked tying his worn leather boots.

  “Sure.”

  “How you take it?” Bitty asked.

  “Black,” Bill replied.

  “Here you go,” Bitty said handing Bill a steaming white styrofoam cup.

  “Let’s hit it Bill.”

  “Nice to meet you Bitty.”

  She nodded and smiled, her eyes meeting his. “You too.”

  Bill followed Eli through the house and into the garage.

  “That’s sweet, what is it a sixty-two?” Bill asked examining the Harley.

  “Fifty-nine XLCH Sportster,” Eli replied cleaning his teeth with a toothpick.

  “That’s one bitch’n bike, do you ride it often?”

  “Nah, hardly ever, my niece says she wants it. Throw your stuff in the trunk and I’ll drive.” Bill retrieved his tool belt along with his wallet before getting in Eli’s car.

  Heavy, was the word that came to Bill’s mind opening the passenger door. It reminded him of an era of car making that was slowly fading away. It was only 1974, but cars were clearly changing. He got in and sat down on his share of the gray leather bench-seating. The first thing Bill noticed were the air-vents, located overhead, much like those in an aircraft. The air conditioning was directed to the roof via a pair of clear plastic ducts visible through the rear window at each side, connecting upward from the rear-decking tray. That was the only indication of the car’s unique engineering.

  “Ya know, this car is based on the same model they used in that TV show with Adam West, Batman,” Bill said admiring the minty interior.

  “Yeah man, but I ain’t fighting crime.” Eli backed out of the driveway, a slight grinding sound resonated as the exhaust hit the asphalt.

  “You originally from New Hampshire?” Bill asked before taking a sip from his coffee.

  “No man, born and raised in Mass.”

  “What part?”

  “Boston, Back Bay area. My old man and me moved up here in fifty-two.”

  “What does your dad do?” Eli's eyes shifted to the gold plated wrist watch wrapped vertically around the rear view mirror. “He was a master carpenter, he died from asbestos poisoning.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Shit happens, life happens. You just deal with it.”

  “What about your mother?” Bill asked.

  “She took off after I was born, guess she didn’t want the job.” Bill’s head turned towards Eli, they made eye contact.

  “The same thing happened with my own,” he replied.

  “Huh, so tell me about yourself man?” Bill took another sip of his coffee before talking about the last several years.

  “I guess I can relate, not to losing a spouse but a loved one. My brother died in a car crash, left a wife and daughter. I do as much as I can for them.”

  “That’s too bad, any kids?” Bill asked rolling down the window.

  “No, I had a longtime girlfriend before Bitty. She wanted kids, it just wasn’t me, so she left.”

  Eli’s Lincoln turned off Route 28 and onto what appeared to be a driveway. It was long, secluded and flanked on either side by a short tumbling cobblestone wall and birch trees. As the driveway dipped it provided Bill with a 180 degree view of the property. Straight ahead was a very big body of water, most likely Lake Winnipesaukee, he imagined. Circling the roundabout driveway Bill’s eyes shifted to the Victorian house now directly in front of him.

  The exterior of it was a soothing mixture of light blue shingled siding and charcoal gray roofing. All the trim, including the railing leading up the front steps were painted bone white. Windows of all different sizes lay across its facade and dormers. The multi-level roof even boasted a short roof-top deck. Bill caught a slight view out behind the house, there was a wooden pier that went out into the lake.

  “This is beautiful, that’s the W right?” Bill asked.

  “Yup,” Eli replied parking by a large steel container. Getting out of the car Bill recognized it, it was for trash, the kind they used on big jobs in the city. Putting on his tool belt Eli handed him a long dull bronze key.

  “That key is for the front door. Nobody’s home, head on up and I’ll be right behind you.”

  Bill was half way up the front steps when Eli called him, “Bill, when we get done today I was gonna stop by my sister-in-law’s. I haven’t seen her in a while, shouldn’t take too long.”

  Bill nodded. “No problem.” The stained glass in the door rattled as Bill opened it and stepped inside. Natural sunlight filled the entire lower level which lay sight to the bare studded walls. Eli came in behind him.

  “There’s a John upstairs, after you go just pull the rope hanging from the box once. I’m gonna have you finish guttin’ one of the bedrooms today.”

  “Got it,” Bill replied checking his hand tools.

  Over the next several hours Bill worked feverishly alone upstairs. He was nearly done tearing the weathered Teak off the walls when Eli came in wiping the sweat from his forehead. “How’s it going?”

  “Groovy,” Bill replied tossing the wood into a pil
e.

  “I’m gonna run over to the Yankee Smokehouse for lunch, what can I get ya?”

  “Uh, whatever you get is fine.” Bill pulled some cash from his wallet and handed it to Eli.

  “Take a break, I’ll be back soon.” Eli said sauntering away, his voice drifting off.

  Bill removed his belt and went outside for some fresh air. Crossing the property he admired the view, a gentle breeze coming off the lake felt good. The idea of a quick dip to cool off was tempting. Eyeing the pier Bill guessed it went out about twenty yards into the lake, hovering just above the water line.

  Heading towards the lake Bill spotted the stand alone structure out beyond the leafy dense hedges. Having seen one when he was younger he knew what it was but never knew anyone who owned a boathouse. Whoever owned this property had built one to match the main house. Its lofty front door had to be close to fifteen feet high, sitting on a steel track embedded into the concrete and rolled open horizontally. In its center was the same stained glass insert like the main house, Bill recognized it as a Fleur De Lis.

  He got within a few feet of the front door and tried to peer in. Faded colors melded together, a cloudy reflection greeted Bill back. There was something else though, he felt it, the structure felt cold, dead. What was in there?

  In the distance Bill could hear the faint sound of a Johnny Cash song, it got louder.

  Eli stood at the foot of his car holding two brown lunch bags when he saw Bill coming from the direction of the boathouse. “It ain't summer yet,” Eli called out. ”But if you wanna join me, I’m gonna eat down on the Pier.”

  “For sure.” Bill took one the bags and followed Eli across the yard.

  “Do you know what year this place was built?”

  “1926.”

  “Boy it’s really hip, just a beautiful location.”

  “Yeah, you can find beauty just about anywhere if you look hard enough.”

  “What do we got?” Bill asked opening the bag and smelling the food.

  “Nothing but the best, smoked barbecue steak sandwich, fries and a Coke,” Eli replied sitting down and removing his sunglasses.

  Clouds moved in over the lake, giving the water a greenish hue. Bill found the area tranquil. The same must have been true for Eli as he appeared to be alone in his own thoughts.

  “Those are odd looking birds,” Bill said pointing.

  Eli looked overhead. “They’re Grackle, common up here for this time of year.”

  “You know something about birds huh?” Bill asked. Eli nodded.

  “Yeah, among other things.”

  “So, whose house is this?” Bill asked eating his fries.

  Eli raised his Coke bottle to his lips and stopped short of drinking it.

  “My father’s house. It was my dad’s.” Bill put his sandwich down and grabbed a napkin to wipe his mouth.

  “Your dad’s? So the house is yours?”

  “Yup.”

  “Well, it’s quite a house. Why don't you don’t live in it?” Eli shook his head as he began picking up the trash from the food.

  “Nah, I just wanna get it remodeled and sell it man.”

  “Oh,” was all Bill could say without seeming too nosy. Eli finished his drink, stood up and left. Bill closed his eyes, he could feel his body rising and floating across the surface of the lake. Someone was speaking to him, the words were clear and reassuring.

  “Bill, Bill, it’s gonna be OK.”

  Swingle’s

  Bitty was just getting home from the market when she heard the phone ringing. Placing her groceries down she picked up the receiver.

  “Hello.”

  “Bitty, thank god your home, is Eli there?”

  “No, he’s out with Sig. Is everything OK?”

  “I’m really not sure. It’s important that you have Eli call me as soon he gets home.”

  “OK, I very happy Sam is OK.”

  “Thank you,” Vanessa said before hanging up.

  Bitty was putting away the groceries when she heard Eli’s car in the driveway. Eli and Sig were sitting in the Lincoln when they saw her coming. Bitty’s arms were outstretched, her short legs taking long strides as they approached the car. “Baby, what is it?” Eli asked opening the door.

  “Vanessa say to call her, it important.”

  ***

  Eli held the phone tightly to his ear as Vanessa spoke about the letter she found. He confirmed the phone number on the cassette was Bill’s before hanging up. The letter left Eli confused, not to mention that he hadn’t even considered what Nessa said. What if Sam wasn’t with Bill? What if she was going there to meet him but came across someone else? Like a burglar? Sig had been sitting nearby eating cold Sushi and listening to the conversation.

  “What’s up?” he asked with his mouth full.

  “I have no idea but we’ve gotta go back to the lake house.”

  ***

  There were no street lights at the lake house, no neon signs to point the way, only the moonlight flickered off the surface of the water. Eli and Sig emerged from the car in complete darkness.

  “I’ve got a couple of flashlights, lemme grab ’em,” Eli said popping the trunk, and handing one to Sig. They crossed the lawn to the sound of crickets and an owl hooting nearby. A mouse darted out from the doorway, which was still slightly ajar. Sig grasped the handle and rolled the door open, both men aimed their flashlights at the ground.

  “What are we looking for?” Sig asked.

  “Don’t know, I didn’t bother to look in here earlier. I was more concerned about getting Sam to the hospital.”

  Sig went off to the left while Eli stayed to the right, walking around the GTO. Combing the floor Eli came upon what looked to be drops of dried brown paint. Kneeling down he took a closer look, blood? The beam also revealed a crowbar lying on the ground. Eli picked it up, whose is this?

  “Eli.”

  Aiming his light at Sig he wasn’t sure what bothered him more, the way Sig had just said his name or the puzzled look on his face. The trunk on the GTO looked shut, it wasn’t. Neither man spoke as Eli opened it, each of them trying to comprehend exactly what they were seeing.

  ***

  The parlor in Vanessa’s house was dimly lit and cheerless. The circular wall clock read 1:32 a.m. With the TV off and curtains drawn, Vanessa faded in and out on the couch until finally succumbing to sleep. She thought of Sam, strong, smart, how brave of her to fight, she certainly didn’t get it from me. Vanessa dreamt. In her dream she saw the cliff, if only for a glimpse before deathly black bubbles rose below. A car door slamming shut woke her up immediately. Was that an augury?

  Opening the front door she saw Eli with Sig close behind, his hulk like frame filling the doorway. Raising her hands Vanessa brought them together like she was going to communion.

  “What’s going on? Did you find something?”

  “After we got off the phone I drove back to the lake house and went out to the boathouse. The trunk on the GTO was busted open, looked like something was hidden inside of it?”

  “Like what? What would Bill or anybody want with that car?”

  “I dunno?” Eli replied looking down at the ground. “But there’s another thing.”

  “What?”

  “Hubble’s missing,” Eli replied, his voice trailing off. The moment was now beginning to feel like some delirious foggy dream. A small wave in the pit of Vanessa’s stomach grew bigger, she brought her hand to her mouth and covered her lips.

  “Bill, what about Bill?” she asked in whisper.

  ***

  Hubble intended on driving straight through to Miami, but the idea of getting high and grabbing a prostitute in Boston’s Combat Zone was more alluring. He needed to dump Eli’s truck anyway, it was too much of a risk. A dimly lit alley in Chinatown provided him with an opportunity to hot wire another everyday car close by. It was only a matter of minutes before he found a prostitute and scored some dope off her pimp.

  Hubble finished with
the whore in the back of the stolen car before shooting up and getting back on the highway. He was grinning like a school boy until a small pain behind his left eye began to build and throb. The headlights coming at him were becoming blurry and out of focus. Switching in to the break-down lane a pounding migraine came on like a 747 landing at Logan Airport. A flushing sensation followed by nausea made him open the door to vomit. He knew immediately and punched the dashboard. “Fuck!” It was the dope, it was bad. In the distance he could see the sign for the next exit, Quincy. Hubble recalled a place that was quiet, secluded and somewhat off the beaten path, if it was still there. Shutting the door he shifted into drive and got off at the next exit.

  From a distance the towering illuminated sign looked like a beacon for would be tourists. Eddie’s Motor Inn, Air Conditioned, Television, Vacancy. Hubble turned in and parked out back behind Eddie’s diner. With his duffel bag in tow he stumbled across the lot to the motel. Leave in the morning, be in Miami in twenty-four hours, easy.

  * * *

  Vanessa was lying awake in bed the next morning when the phone rang. “Hello.”

  “Miss Hearst, this is Peggy, I’m one of the RNs here at the Hospital.”

  “Yes,” Vanessa replied sitting up.

  “Your daughter Samantha is awake. She’s fine, but was emphatic that I call you. Sam says she must speak with you and Eli in person. I told her we could bring a phone into her room, she said no. Apparently she has something to tell you both and it must be in person.” Vanessa placed her hand on her forehead and took a deep breath of relief knowing her daughter was okay.

  ***

  “Sunny today in Boston with a high of about eighty-seven, the north shore can expect this heat to let up by Sunday. It’s seven fifty-one on this beautiful morning, you’re listening to WBCN, Boston’s best rock station.”

  Sig was sitting in Eli’s car, his eyes wandering from the telephone booth nearby to the back door of Huggins Memorial Hospital. Hearing the phone ring he got out in a flash to answer it. Hanging up the receiver he spotted Eli coming toward him. Judging by the look on his face, whatever Sam had told him wasn’t good.