I said I’d make us some coffee.
“Hey, wait,” he said.
I stopped. At first I didn’t know what he wanted. He put his arms around me, and it seemed like it had been a long time since he’d held me, like we’d been different people the last time.
“I’m sorry I brought you here,” he said.
“I wanted to be here.”
“This place is haunted,” he said. “It brings out the worst in anyone.”
“It won’t hurt us,” I said. “We’re okay, right?”
He smiled and nodded, but he didn’t believe it.
I said the sooner we had some coffee the better the day would look, and I went inside the house.
It was around three in the afternoon when I woke up in the brown chair with fabric picks in about a thousand places. I sat up blinking. Don wasn’t around, and the house was dead quiet. I got up and looked for him. The car was still at the top of the driveway, the brake rock steady. Don had been okay for the rest of the morning. Working, but in his own world. So where was he?
I waited for him to come back from wherever he was. I made a pot of coffee, sat on the brick front steps, and smoked a cigarette or two.
Then, I walked up the hill to the woods. It was windy, a clear bright blue sky above the bare trees. Don had told me about his dad teaching him to walk through the woods quietly like an Indian, but that obviously hadn’t happened in the fall. I was crunching through leaves so loud you could hear me a mile away.
As I tromped along through the loud leaves, I kept going over the series of events that had brought us there. Don’s mother’s declining, that had brought Don there, and Don had brought me there. I’d chosen to go with him. It was a declaration, I saw. I’d wanted to lay something on the table, to say we were a couple, and I’d expected him to do the same, to ante up.
The woods were peaceful for someone who didn’t have Don’s memories, and it might have been a wonderful place to play for a kid with different circumstances. Don said the place was haunted, but it had an appeal, if you didn’t expect or want much.
I walked across the field at the far end of the woods, all the way to the trailer park. Not a sign of Don anywhere.
It was dark when the car came up the driveway and dropped Don off. Don came in and closed the door behind him.
“Who was that?” I said.
“The social worker from the hospital.”
Don looked tired. He explained why: He’d walked up in the woods earlier, while I was napping, had made up his mind, and he’d walked on to the hospital from there. The moment had seized him, he said. It was then or never.
“You saw your mom?” I said. “You talked to her?”
“I saw her. I talked to her doctor. We’re transferring her to a nursing home. I’ll have to come back here for a court date, so I can get guardianship. I’m going to have to sell the house.”
“You think somebody’s going to want it?” I said.
“The house? Probably not. But it’s on an okay piece of land.”
I sat back down in the brown chair. I asked him if he wanted something to eat, but he didn’t want to stay, not a minute longer than he had to. He’d done what he’d come to do, and figured out how he was going to deal with this. How could I blame him if everything he’d told me was true? And I had no good reason to doubt him.
“If you’re ready,” he said, “let’s just go.”
I hesitated. It’s not that I liked being there, but I wasn’t ready to leave. I was still a little ticked off at the way he’d disappeared without telling me. I was more uneasy about where we stood with one another than I’d been when we arrived, although I couldn’t put a finger on what exactly had changed. Maybe it was that nothing had.
I got up and put on my parka. We started to collect the few things we’d brought there: our clothes, the air mattress, the towels. I put our food back in our cooler. While Don was loading up the car, I went into the bathroom. I opened the window and left it open, just in case Don was wrong. Because I wanted him to be wrong, about that anyway.
It was dark when we left. We had one last look at his mom’s place when he clicked on the headlights. It looked like a small, dark animal, hunkered down against the hillside, with not much fight left in it.
We didn’t look long. Don eased off the emergency break and turned so he could see out the back. When he put his arm across my headrest, I could smell the house and the woods on him, a mixture of catpiss, mildew, dry leaves, and something else, faint and foul. It made me wonder what else he’d found when he was walking in the woods earlier, before he’d gone to the hospital. I didn’t ask him about it then because I didn’t want to know, because, like I said, I wanted to leave that window open, but I should have asked. I let too many things go, and that was my mistake.
Don took his time guiding us down the hill, like it was unfamiliar dangerous territory, although he knew it well. He was just trying to make me feel safe, and he’d tell me again and again that this trip had been a turning point for him, when he’d finally put those dark childhood years behind him, and it was true enough that I’d never see his mom’s place again. At the bottom of the driveway, Don backed us out into the road, and from there we went on our way.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I would like to thank the following people who have helped make this book possible: first, Jane Siddall Thomas, for, along with everything else, her patience in reading and commenting on these stories many times. I’ve never known a more thorough and honest reader and critic. And my parents, Shirley and David Thomas, for their many years of support and encouragement.
I thank Da Chen for selecting my manuscript for the Many Voices Project Award and for his generous words of encouragement and praise; Alan Davis and Suzzanne Kelley, co-directors of New Rivers Press, for their support, and the editing team of Kalicia Miller, Erica Bailey, Lana Syltie, and Kayla Van Eps.
I am grateful to Lori Ostlund for selecting “The Lost Arts” for the Blue Mesa Review Prize; and to Linda B. Swanson-Davies and Susan Burmeister-Brown for awarding “According to Foxfire” the Glimmer Train Stories Family Matters Prize. Thanks also to the editors of Harpur Palate and The Florida Review for choosing my stories for the John Gardner Memorial Prize and the Florida Review Editors Prize, and to Paula Deitz for including “May Prescott” in the anthology, Writes of Passage: Coming-of-Age Stories and Memoirs from The Hudson Review.
I have been fortunate to have had many generous teachers and colleagues who have read my work and given me feedback and/or advice at crucial moments in my development as a fiction writer; among those essential friends are Steve Yates, Susan Perabo, Jay Prefontaine, Brad Barkley, Kevin C. Stewart, David Pratt, Will Torrey, Graham Lewis, John Hennessey, Heather Ross Miller, John Williams, Jim Whitehead, Michael Heffernan, Skip Hays, William Harrison, Brian Wilkie, G. O. Morphew, and Parks Lanier.
Acknowledgment is made to all the kind editors and staffs of the fine journals that published my stories, often in earlier drafts:
“According to Foxfire,” Glimmer Train Stories 76 (Fall 2010): 157–71.
“Chronology,” Glimmer Train Stories 10 (Spring 1994): 109–23.
“Dispensations,” in The Florida Review, Vol. 37, No. 2 (Winter 2012): 43–56.
“Homing,” in Thema 23, no.2 (Summer 2011): 87–96.
“May Prescott,” The Hudson Review 48, no. 4 (Winter 1996): 571–86.
“My Father’s Town” as “Between the Two Pictures,” The Laurel Review 26, no. 2 (Summer 1992): 52–61.
“The Lost Arts,” Blue Mesa Review XXIV (Spring 2011): 18–37.
“The Other Life” as “Intruder,” Arts & Letters 25 (Spring 2011): 39–44.
“The Shame of the City” as “The Smoke Table,” Washington Square (Summer/Fall 2011): 112–22.
“To Live by the Lake,” Harpur Palate 12, no. 1 (Summer & Fall 2012): 114–32.
“May Prescott” also appeared in Writes of Passage: Coming-of-Age Stories and Memoirs from The Hudson Revi
ew.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Randolph Thomas grew up in western Virginia and attended Radford University and the University of Arkansas, where he received an MFA in Creative Writing. His fiction has appeared in Glimmer Train Stories, The Hudson Review, The Southwest Review, and The Florida Review and has won the Glimmer Train Stories Family Matters Award, the John Gardner Memorial Award, The Blue Mesa Review Award, and The Florida Review Editors Prize. Also a singer, songwriter, and guitarist, he has performed solo and in rock and roll and folk bands in Virginia, Arkansas, and Louisiana. He teaches at Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge.
Thomas is the author of Dispensations, winner of the 2013 Many Voices Project prize for prose, and The Course of the Telling, winner of the Gerald Cable Award for poetry, forthcoming from Silverfish Review Press in 2015.
ABOUT NEW RIVERS PRESS
New Rivers Press emerged from a drafty Massachusetts barn in winter 1968. Intent on publishing work by new and emerging poets, founder C. W. “Bill” Truesdale labored for weeks over an old Chandler & Price letterpress to publish three hundred fifty copies of Margaret Randall’s collection, So Many Rooms Has a House But One Roof.
Nearly four hundred titles later, New Rivers, a non-profit and now teaching press based since 2001 at Minnesota State University Moorhead, has remained true to Bill’s goal of publishing the best new literature—poetry and prose—from new, emerging, and established writers.
New Rivers Press authors range in age from twenty to eighty-nine. They include a silversmith, a carpenter, a geneticist, a monk, a tree-trimmer, and a rock musician. They hail from cities such as Christchurch, Honolulu, New Orleans, New York City, Northfield (Minnesota), and Prague.
Charles Baxter, one of the first authors with New Rivers, calls the press “the hidden backbone of the American literary tradition.” Continuing this tradition, in 1981 New Rivers began to sponsor the Minnesota Voices Project—now called Many Voices Project—competition. It is one of the oldest literary competitions in the United States, bringing recognition and attention to emerging writers. Other New Rivers publications include the American Fiction Series, the American Poetry Series, New Rivers Abroad, and the Electronic Book Series.
We invite you to visit our website, newriverspress.com, for more information.
MANY VOICES PROJECT AWARD WINNERS
“OP” indicates that the paper copy is out of print; “e-book” indicates that the title is available as an electronic publication.
130 Dispensations, Randolph Thomas (e-book)
129 Invasives, Brandon Krieg
128 Whitney, Joe Stracci (e-book)
127 Rare Earth, Bradford Tice
126 The Way of All Flux, Sharon Suzuki-Martinez
125 It Takes You Over, Nick Healy (e-book)
124 The Muse of Ocean Parkway and Other Stories, Jacob Lampart (e-book)
123 Hotel Utopia, Robert Miltner
122 Kinesthesia, Stephanie N. Johnson
121 Birds of Wisconsin, B.J. Best
120 At Home Anywhere, Mary Hoffman (e-book)
119 Friend Among Stones, Maya Pindyck
118 Fallibility, Elizabeth Oness
117 When Love Was Clean Underwear, Susan Barr-Toman (e-book)
116 The Sound of It, Tim Nolan
115 Hollow Out, Kelsea Habecker
114 Bend from the Knees, Benjamin Drevlow
113 The Tender, Wild Things, Diane Jarvenpa
112 Signaling for Rescue, Marianne Herrmann
111 Cars Go Fast, John Chattin
110 Terrain Tracks, Purvi Shah
109 Numerology and Other Stories, Christian Michener
108 Not a Matter of Love, Beth Alvarado (e-book)
107 Real Karaoke People, Ed Bok Lee
106 Love in An Expanding Universe, Ron Rindo
105 Second Language, Ronna Wineberg (e-book)
104 Landing Zones, Edward Micus
103 The Volunteer, Candace Black
102 Nice Girls and Other Stories, Cezarija Abartis
101 Paper Boat, Cullen Bailey Burns
99 Mozart’s Carriage, Daniel Bachhuber
98 The Pact, Walter Roers
97 Alone with the Owl, Alan Davis
96 Rafting on the Water Table, Susan Steger Welsh
95 Woman Lake, Richard Broderick
94 The Record Player and Other Stories, Winifred Moranville
93 Casting Lines, Orval Lund
92 Dakota Incarnate: A Collection of Short Stories, Bill McDonald
91 Vendettas, Charms, and Prayers, Pamela Gemin
90 An Alchemy in the Bones, William Reichard
89 Music of the Inner Lakes, Roger Sheffer
88 The Fragile Peace You Keep, Kel Munger
87 The Dirty Shame Hotel and Other Stories, Ron Block
85 Sermon on a Perfect Spring Day, Philip Bryant (e-book)
84 Rootbound, Jeanne Emmons
83 Bonfire, Connie Wanek
82 Laundromat Blues, Lupe Solis
81 The Natural Father, Robert Lacy
80 Self Storage, Mary Helen Stefaniak
79 Fishing for Myth, Heid E. Erdrich
78 Sustenance, Aaron Anstett
77 On the Road to Patsy Cline, John Reinhard
76 Remembering China 1935-1945, Bea Exner Liu
75 The Dance Hall at Spring Hill, Duke Klassen (e-book)
74 Divining the Landscape, Diane Jarvenpa
73 To Collect the Flesh, Greg Hewett
72 Heathens, David Haynes
71 Secrets Men Keep, Ron Rindo
70 Everything’s a Verb, Debra Marquart
69 Revealing the Unknown to a Pair of Lovers, Ann Lundberg Grunke
68 What They Always Were, Norita Dittberner-Jax
67 Coming Up for Light and Air, Barbara Crow
66 Mal D’Afrique, Jarda Cervenka (e-book)
65 Aerial Studies, Sandra Adelmund Witt
64 The Peace Terrorist, Carol Masters
63 Thin Ice and Other Risks, Gary Eller
62 Falling in Love at the End of the World, Rick Christman
61 This House Is Filled With Cracks, Madelyn Camrud
60 Handmade Paper, Patricia Barone
59 Under the Influence of Blackbirds, Sharon Van Sluys
58 Jump Rope Queen, Karen Loeb
57 Wolves, Jim Johnson
56 The Second Thing I Remember, Judith Hougen
55 Right by My Side, David Haynes (OP; e-book)
54 Rumors from the Lost World, Alan Davis (e-book)
53 Edith Jacobson Begins to Fly, Patricia Zontelli
52 Learning to Dance & Other Stories, Sharon Oard Warner
51 Mykonos: A Memoir, Nancy Raeburn (OP)
50 Billy Brazil, Emilio DeGrazia (OP)
49 House Fire: A Collection of Poems, B.J. Buhrow
48 From the Lanai & Other Hawaii Stories, Jessica K. Saiki
47 Pictures of Three Seasons, Gail Rixen
46 Pieces from the Long Afternoon, Monica Ochtrup
45 Primary Colors, Barbara Croft
44 But I Won’t Go Out in a Boat, Sharon Chmielarz
43 No Peace at Versailles and Other Stories, Nina Barragan
42 Borrowed Voices, Roger Sheffer
41 This Body She’s Entered, Mary K. Rummel
40 Suburban Metaphysics, Ron Rindo
39 Out Far, In Deep, Alvin Handelman
38 Dismal River, Ronald Block
37 Turning Out the Lights, Sigrid Bergie
36 The Transparency of Skin, Catherine Stearns (OP)
35 Burning the Prairie, John Reinhard
34 Last Summer, Davida Kilgore (OP)
33 The High Price of Everything, Kathleen Coskran
32 Storm Lines, Warren Woessner (OP)
31 Dying Old and Dying Young, Susan Williams
30 Once, A Lotus Garden, Jessica Saiki (OP)
28 The Wind, Patricia Barone
27 All Manner of Monks, Benet Tvedten (OP)
26 Flash Paper, Theresa Pappas (O
P)
25 Tap Dancing for Big Mom, Roseann Lloyd
24 Twelve Below Zero, Anthony Bukoski (OP)
23 Locomotion, Elizabeth Evans (OP)
22 What I Cannot Say, I Will Say, Monica Ochtrup
21 Descent of Heaven Over the Lake, Sheryl Noethe (OP)
20 Matty’s Heart, C.J. Hribal (OP)
19 Stars Above, Stars Below, Margaret Hasse (OP)
18 Golf Ball Diver, Neal Bowers (OP)
17 The Weird Kid, Mark Vinz (OP)
16 Morning Windows, Michael Moos (OP)
15 Powers, Marisha Chamberlain (OP)
14 Suspicious Origins, Perry Glasser (OP)
13 Blenheim Palace, Wendy Parrish (OP)
12 Rivers, Stories, Houses, Dreams, Madelon Sprengnether
11 We’ll Come When It Rains, Yvette Nelson (OP)
10 Different Arrangements, Sharon Chmielarz
9 Casualties, Katherine Carlson
8 Night Sale, Richard Broderick
7 When I Was a Father, Alvaro Carona-Hine (OP)
6 Changing the Past, Laurie Taylor (OP)
5 I Live in the Watchmaker’s Town, Ruth Roston (OP)
4 Normal Heart, Madelon Gohlke (OP)
3 Heron Dancer, John Solensten
2 The Reconstruction of Light, John Minczeski (OP)
1 Household Wounds, Deborah Keenan (OP)
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