Whispering, Idaho

by Nancy Canyon

  Alice watched the flies circle above her. “Why do flies do that?”

  “Who knows?” Gena turned to her, took her hand and squeezed it. “You’re not coming with me, are you?”

  “Got to fix this mess. Then I’m going to look for a new job. Work on getting my life together.”

  “I’ll be back on breaks, if that’s any consolation. Besides, you can’t leave Stephen.”

  “Stephen?”

  “Yeah, he’s crazy about you.”

  Alice studied herself in the bathroom mirror. Even knowing Gena was coming back, her stomach sunk like a lead weight dropping through green water to the river bottom, stirring up brownish silt. She didn’t look brave, she looked terrified.

  “Don’t worry. You’re going to be alright,” Alice said, smiling a smile at her reflection that was meant to appear fearless. Instead, she looked ready to be committed to an insane asylum.

  She decided on a bath. The sound of splashing water filling the tub reminded her of rainbow trout feeding at dusk when the mayflies hatched over the river’s surface.

  She undressed and slipped into the hot water, closed her eyes and ducked under. Pinching her nose, she held her breath until her lungs burned. She splashed back up, drawing plastered red hair off her face with the palms of her hands.

  “Rapids are swift. That’s what keeps people away from them. Dad is cheating on mom and I’m the other woman.” A knock at the door startled Alice. She splashed out of the tub and wrapped herself in a towel, yelling, “Who is it?”

  “It’s your mother. Let me in.”

  Alice’s mother opened and closed the refrigerator, oven and cupboard doors while Alice looked on, combing out her tangled and dripping hair. Her mother sat down at the table and pulled out a pack cigarettes. “It’s small, isn’t it?” she said, tapping the white stick against the table.

  “Would you mind not smoking inside? There’s a balcony.”

  Her mother laughed. She lit a match and held it to the end of the stick. Blowing smoke up at the ceiling, she said, “A little cigarette ash won’t hurt this floor any.” She picked at the cracked linoleum with the toe of her sandal. “They should replace it for you, you know.”

  “Mom, please.”

  “Well then,” her mother said, climbing out of the chair, “aren’t we special.” She pushed a damp curl behind Alice’s ear, saying, “You’ve been crying. What’s wrong?”

  Alice waved away the smoke. “It’s allergies.”

  “Since when?” her mother asked, lifting the cross off Alice’s neck. “I see you found your cross.”

  Alice grabbed the necklace and turned her back. “I’d rather you smoke outside.”

  “You’re still mad about the locks, aren’t you?” she asked, going to the sink, dropping the smoke into a dirty glass.

  “Couldn’t you have stood up for me for once?”

  “You know how he is when he gets his mind set on something. Now let’s not argue? You could offer your mother something cold to drink. We’ll toast to your new place.”

  “There’s iced tea in the fridge.”

  “The heat is unbearable,” her mother said, taking two glasses from the cupboard.

  Alice pulled the pitcher from the refrigerator. “The stain didn’t come out of your dress.”

  “It’s ruined. Maybe I’ll dye it red.”

  Alice handed her mother the tea. “Since when do you wear red?”

  Her mother sipped the brew. “Perhaps it’s time I start. Now, how about a tour,” she said, walking past Alice into the living room. “Oh, sheets for curtains? And there’s one of your little paintings.”

  “It’s called Freedom. It’s new.”

  “Dramatic, just like you. And there’s that sketchbook you carry everywhere you go,” her mother said, opening the book. “My God, a sinking boat.”

  Alice snatched the book away. “Do you mind?”

  “What? A mother can’t see her own daughter’s drawings?”

  “It’s personal.”

  “Too personal for your mother’s eyes?”

  “No, it’s just that sketches are only beginnings. It’s embarrassing.” Alice knew it was time to tell her about the rape. She set the drawing book down, deciding to speak.

  Her mother said, “There’s no bed in this apartment.”

  Alice nodded to the wall with the closet doors. “Behind there.”

  “A Murphy bed,” her mother said, sinking into the broken-down davenport cushions. “No bedroom and this can hardly be called a sofa, now can it?” she said, sipping her tea. “Better have it hauled off to the dump along with the linoleum.”

  Alice sighed, readjusting her weight off the remaining bit of tenderness. “Mom, I need to tell you something.”

  “What is it, Dear?”

  “It’s dad. He . . . well,” she said, tearing at a tag of skin along the cuticle of her thumbnail. A tiny spot of blood pooled against the white moon. “When you were away, he came in after I was asleep. He got into bed with me.”

  “Good God, Alice. You and your imagination. You need help,” she said, jumping to her feet, fumbling with her cigarettes. “I’ll talk to your father about getting you some counseling.”

  “Mo-om, listen to me. Mrs. Anderson told me to tell you. She promised you’d believe me.”

  “Mrs. Anderson? You told Sally Anderson that your father got in your bed with you before you told me? What were you thinking?”

  “I had to tell someone and you were gone.”

  “Good God, now the whole town will know.” Alice’s mother spun on her heels, slamming out the balcony door.

  Alice bit her thumbnail to the quick as she watched her mother chain smoke through the screen. The sky darkened to indigo behind the woman’s hazy profile. Miss Green started to pound on the wall; her mother looked around. “What’s that?”

  “It’s my neighbor. She pounds on the wall and yells for me to be quiet. She’s the one who needs to see someone, not me. Tell dad that.”

  Alice’s mother raised her eyebrows, tossed the burning butt down, and snubbed it out with her sandal. She slammed back inside. “Pack your things. I’m taking you home.”

  “I’d swallow poison before I’d sleep in the same house with him.”

  “Get your things. We’re going.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Alice said, burying her head in her hands.

  “Your father wouldn’t do such a thing.”

  Alice looked up. “But you saw him reach inside my shirt.”

  “He was drunk. So drunk, I fooled him into believing a useless key from the junk drawer was your apartment key.”

  Alice’s stomach churned. “He knows I’ll tell. That’s why he changed the locks. And now he thinks he has my apartment key and the next time he hurts me it will be here.”

  “If he came for a visit, it would be to wish you well, not to hurt you. He’s proud of you. You know that, don’t you, Dear? We’ll find you some help and work this out.”

  Alice grabbed her mother’s arm. “You have to believe me!”

  “He’s your father, Alice. He was drunk, made a little mistake. You can forgive him that, can’t you? Don’t involve the whole town.”

  “All you care about is our reputation. It wasn’t the first time, you know. It’s been going on since I was little!”

  “Why’d you wait so long to say something?”

  Alice twisted her fingers until they hurt. “He threatened to—”

  “A little threat has never stopped you before.”

  “You think cutting my face with a butcher knife’s a little threat.”

  “My God, Alice, you’re sure about this?”

  “Sure as the river runs downstream.”

  Her mother’s face darkened like the threatening sky swallowing Whispering. “I’ll take care of it,” she said, scooping up Alice’s hands and squeezing them tightly.

  “Ouch!”

  “What happened to your finger?”

  “Cut it o
n a butcher knife.”

  “That reminds me. Better get back and fix your father’s supper.”

  CHAPTER 9

  By five o’clock, all that was left of the hot, sunny day was a single beam of light falling through the kitchen window, warming Alice’s back, shining in Gena’s eyes.

  Gena lifted a hand to her forehead and looked out from beneath it at Alice. “I’m sick of the heat wave.”

  A gust of wind kicked the kitchen curtain out over the pizza box. Alice pushed it back down. “Storm’s blowing in. Won’t be unbearable much longer.”

  “Have more pizza,” Gena said, looking relieved as the last bit of sunlight faded; the air began to cool. “Did you tell her?”

  “Mostly.”

  Gena grabbed another slice, biting off the tip. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I couldn’t say the word rape to her, okay? It’s just so barbaric. So I said he got in bed with me. That alone made her smoke a pack of cigarettes. I don’t know what she would have done if I’d said he’d raped me.” Alice dropped a strip of pizza crust onto her plate and grabbed another slice.

  “You could have said he screwed you.”

  “You’re crude.”

  “No, I’m not. Screw is a softer word. It might be easier for you to say.”

  “Maybe,” Alice said, frowning and shoving the flapping curtain back down. The air smelled like static electricity and distant rain spattering parched fields. Alice closed her eyes, breathing deeply. “Let’s watch the storm from the balcony.”

  “You can,” Gena said, pushing back from the table. “I think I’ll just pop downstairs for a minute and visit Sunstar. I won’t be long.”

  “Like that?”

  “Baggy T-shirts are in.”

  “But you’re not wearing makeup.”

  Gena’s face reddened. “Are you saying I look like shit?”

  Alice sighed. “Don’t go off on me. I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that you usually dress-up when you guy-hunt. You know, go fishing!”

  Gena tightened her ponytail. “I’m not guy-hunting. Besides, you’ve seen how he dresses. He’s a frickin’ hippy,” she said.

  “Never mind, I don’t want to fight with you. I’ll watch the storm by myself.”

  “Maybe he has another joint. Come with me. We’ll all get stoned again.”

  Alice grabbed a dishcloth and scrubbed the table hard, like it was a floor scuffed with heel marks. “No thanks. If I hadn’t smoked pot that day on the beach, the bad thing wouldn’t have happened.”

  Alice felt the ever-widening void in her gut sucking her down into another torrent of tears. “If only I’d stayed awake.” She sat down at the table, dropping her head into her hands, suddenly sobbing.

  “Jeez, Alice, I’m sorry. I’m tired and grouchy from moving and cleaning all day. Forget about Sunstar. I’ll watch with you. Dibs on the seat by the door.

  Alice’s shoulders shook; her nose ran. She couldn’t speak for the sobs.

  “Alice, you’re scaring me. Say something.”

  Gena’s warm hand was on her back. She lifted her head, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. “I’m scared, Gena. He knows I’m here alone. He can come anytime he likes, even in the middle of the night.”

  “Alice, I hate to say this, but your mother wasn’t home when the bad thing happened. At least here, you can lock your doors. You could even have Stephen attach a deadbolt. He’s a handy man, isn’t he? He’ll help you out.”

  A loud rap shook the door. Alice screamed, clutching at Gena’s arm.

  “Jeez Louise, just relax. It’s probably Sunstar.”

  Alice slipped into the bathroom and ran the cold water. Sunstar and Gena were giggling outside the door. She soaked a washrag in cold water, pressed it over her face. Shortly, the chill began to calm her.

  “Hey, Alice?” Sunstar said.

  “Be right there,” she said, running a comb through her hair, assessing her pink cheeks and puffy eyes in the age- specked mirror. Shrugging, she opened the rattling door.

  “Housewarming gift.” He shoved a six-pack of beer into her hands. “Hey, what happened?”

  “No of your business,” Alice said, scooting past him into the kitchen.

  “Shit, neighbor,” he said, swinging his long braid over his shoulder, “a cold brewski on a hot, stormy night always cheers me up.”

  “This shouldn’t be here,” Alice said, shoving the Coors back at him.

  “Kind of a tight ass, aren’t we,” Sunstar laughed.

  “My dad knows everything,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “He’ll find out we’ve been drinking and turn you in to the police for buying beer under age.”

  “Fucking-A, he’s on one shitty, bum trip?”

  Alice snapped, “Just take it back to your apartment before he finds out.”

  “Alice,” Gena said, dragging her by the arm over to the sink. “Cool it. Your dad’s at home eating dinner. No way will he know what we’re doing two miles away. He’s just got you spooked.”

  Alice chewed her fingernails as she watched Sunstar open a beer and pull a limp slice of pizza from the box. He said, “Thanks, don’t mind if I do.”

  Gena leaned close to him and said, “Contrary to Whispering’s opinion of Jim Sharp, he’s an asshole. I don’t blame Alice for freaking out, so be nice to her.”

  Sunstar looked over at Alice. “Well, Alice sweetie. He’ll have to get past me first.” He flexed his biceps, offering them for her to squeeze.

  Alice wasn’t ready to give up her anger, but she couldn’t help smiling at Sunstar’s antics. She stepped forward and tentatively squeezed one skinny arm, then the other. “Maybe between the three of us, we could take him.”

  “I’ll protect you, cutie,” he said, patting her shoulder. “See ya on the balcony, girls.” He grabbed another slice of pizza and hoofed it from the room.

  “Since I’m sleeping over, I’m drinking a beer,” Gena said, rocking off the bottle cap with her church key. She handed it to Alice. “Here. Have one. It’ll be fun.”

  Alice grabbed the sweating bottle. “My parents drink like fish. What if I do too?”

  “One beer to celebrate your freedom doesn’t make you a drunk, silly.”

  “I won’t be free until Dad’s locked away.”

  Alice opened the screen to a dark swelling sky. Lighting brightened the horizon. The smell of rain on dry fields mixed with a fishy smell gusting up from the river. Alice shivered.

  “Hurry up,” Gena said.

  “Don’t push.”

  “Far out! At last, Chicks.”

  Alice flopped down into the middle chair, shifting her weight until she was comfortable. She fought off the memory of the bad thing as she sipped her beer.

  Gena sat next to the door, laughing nervously. “I hate lightning storms.”

  “Scaredy cat,” Sunstar said, propping his feet up on the balcony railing. “Storms are God’s fireworks. Top Whispering’s shitty little display any old day.”

  “I dig the river display,” Gena said. “It’s more than the fireworks; it’s hotdogs and cotton candy and people everywhere.”

  “Nothing like fucking Mother Nature’s grandeur to kick-start your old thumper. I’ll take that over some little hokey festival any day.”

  Alice winced. “Do you have to talk like that?”

  “What, you’re shitting me?”

  “It’s offensive.” Alice frowned, watching inky clouds stretch and fold in on themselves, carrying her thoughts to the possibility of life growing inside her womb. A mosquito buzzed around her. She flicked it away. “Mosquitoes are out.”

  Gena slapped her leg. “No kidding.”

  Alice took another sip of beer, feeling warmth like hot sun seeping through her limbs, turning them to noodles. “I’m soooo . . . relaxed,” she said, turning to Sunstar, seeing not much more than his grin in the fading light. “Thanks for the . . . brewski.”

  “Happy emancipation, you little cutie,
you.”

  “Don’t say that!”

  “What now?” Sunstar said. He hooted as lightning struck ground somewhere around Carl’s Crossing.

  Alice squealed, forgetting her anger. She counted the number of seconds until the thunder cracked like expanding ice along the river in mid-winter. “Five miles off. Close to Stephen’s place.”

  “Any closer, I’m out of here,” Gena said.

  “Sissy,” Sunstar said. His voice took on a nostalgic quality. “Damn! I would have moved here myself if it wasn’t so small. I love this fucking balcony.”

  “Good thing . . . you didn’t,” Alice said, giggling.

  Sunstar dropped his feet to the porch. “Far out! Got Alice tipsy.” He slung his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her enthusiastically.

  Alice shrugged his arm off. “Get away!”

  “Ooh, another bum trip?”

  Alice jumped up. “Don’t think you can paw me just because I live up the stairs. I’m not that kind of girl.”

  “Chill out. You’re not my type. Now, Gena—-she’s another story.”

  “Cool it, you two. This is supposed to be a celebration.”

  Sunstar laughed, raising his beer to Alice. “No hard feelings?”

  Alice studied his grinning face in the light from the apartment. She sat back down. “No hard feelings!”

  “That a girl. Shit, welcome to my humble abode.”

  “Thanks,” Alice said, feigning cheerfulness, clinking her beer bottle against his.

  “Hey, me too,” Gena said, lifting her bottle to toast. The sky lit like daylight and cracked like a sonic boom. “Eek! I’m out of here.” The screen door banged shut behind her.

  As the thunder died to an occasional rumble, Alice heard Miss Green’s muffled voice yelling from the other side of the wall. She made out something about calling the police.

  “Now you did it, Gena. Miss Green’s calling the cops. Quick, put the beer away.”

  “No way,” Sunstar said. “She’s been yelling that since 1967. Same year my fuckin’ old man bounced me off the wall one last time. Shitty asshole.”

  Alice rolled her half-empty beer bottle between her hands. “Your dad beat you?”

  Before Sunstar could answer, a bolt of lightning hit a nearby transformer. It exploded with a spray of blue sparks and sputtering pops. Gena screamed. The apartment lights dimmed to yellow-brown and flicked off.