by Arlene Hunt
‘Why did you do that?’
‘I wanted to talk to her. I want her to know the damage she was causing.’
‘She won’t care; she doesn’t care about anything other than herself.’
‘She wasn’t there in any case.’
‘Probably for the best.’
They lapsed into silence.
‘Well I ought to go. I have a stack of jobs here that need doing.’
‘What time will you be home?’
Mike paused, then said, ‘I don’t know.’
‘You don’t know?’
‘I don’t know, Jess. I might head over to Ray’s with Ace and have a beer after work.’
Jessie felt tears prickle her eyes. The hurt and anger in his voice was hard to listen to and it cut her deeply to think that she was the cause. ‘We need to talk, Mike.’
‘I know that,’ he replied, ‘but truthfully I don’t feel up for much talking right now.’
‘Is this it, Mike?’ Her voice trembled; she could not stop it from doing so. ‘Is this how it’s going to be?’
‘What do you want from me, Jessie?’
She felt a sob slip from her lips and despised herself for it. ‘Will you give me a call if you’re going to be back late?’
‘If you want.’
‘I’m so sorry about all of this.’
‘I know you are.’
‘If I could change it I would.’
‘I know that too.’
‘Mike—’
‘I need to go, Jess.’
He hung up. Jessie pressed ‘end’ and laid the phone on the draining board. She cried, feeling lonelier that she had ever felt before in her life.
Thunder rumbled in the distance and Rudy, who been lying asleep on the rug in the hallway, came to her, pressed his nose against her thigh and whined. Jessie wiped the tears from her face. ‘It’s okay, Rudy. It’s only noise, right?’ Rudy whined and scratched at her leg with his front paw. ‘Easy, Rudy, take it easy old man.’ Another rumble. The light under the grill flickered.
She figured she should check that the generator in the cellar was working. It was not uncommon for electrical storms to occur at this time of year, neither was it uncommon for them to blow the power. She opened the door to the basement and hit the lights. The bulb buzzed twice, flickered and popped.
‘Great.’ Jessie flipped the switch twice more for no good reason.
Rudy growled.
‘It’s a light bulb, Rudy, no biggie.’ Jessie went to the kitchen to fetch a spare bulb from under the sink. The thunder rumbled again, a little closer this time. ‘I think we might be in for a humdinger of a storm, Rudy.’ The dog glanced at her and his nubby tail twitched. ‘Are you really that scared? Oh come on now you big softy, it’s only noise. Noise can’t hurt you.’ She changed the bulb, checked the generator for fuel and returned upstairs.
Rudy had moved to the living room. He stood at the picture window, looking out into the bushes. His hackles were raised and he alternated between a growl and a whine. Jessie watched him for a moment. Rudy was a rescue dog and had been fully grown when she and Mike had taken him in five years before. No one knew how he had been reared or even how old he was exactly, but he had always been anxious during storms. Still, she could not remember him acting this oddly before.
‘Rudy. Come here, Rudy.’
He ignored her and gave two sharp barks. Jessie walked over to him and rubbed the soft patches of hair behind his ears. Rudy whined again and turned back to the window.
‘You want to go out? Is that it? Okay buddy, but don’t come crying to me when it starts to bucket down out there.’ She let Rudy out and watched him bound away towards the trees to the right of the property. The clouds were so low now the air itself felt energised and static. Jessie shivered despite the heat and returned to the kitchen.
37
Caleb smiled as thunder rumbled overhead. He liked thunder; he always had, even as a kid. This was a good sign.
He opened the gate at the top of Conway’s driveway, climbed back into the Taurus and drove on to the sheltered hiding spot he had earlier sourced. He parked the car and hiked through the woods to a narrow ridge. He carried with him his bow, arrows and a small bag slung over his left shoulder. He crested the ridge and removed his binoculars from the bag he carried. From where he now stood he could see directly into the Conway’s front yard. He glassed the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jessie.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. It was hot and clammy and the air crackled with electricity. Caleb spotted the dog standing in the large picture window to the side of the main door. It looked anxious and it paced and circled a few times. Jessie Conway appeared by its side and laid her hand on its head.
Caleb watched her through his binoculars. What he saw pleased him. She looked lovely, more so than she had on television. She was finer-boned, paler, her neck was long and graceful. Caleb swallowed, thinking what he would like to do with that neck.
Dark clouds tumbled in over the hills. Caleb ran over his plan again. Earlier that day he had hiked a different hill and found the area mentioned in various newspaper stories of Rockville’s suicides. It had been difficult to find, hard to reach and was unlikely to be known by anyone other than locals. In other words, it was perfect. But that was only one tiny part of his plan; the rest depended on many factors, getting rid of the dog being the main one.
Another roll of thunder sounded, closer this time. Caleb waited. He was rewarded when Jessie opened the door and let the animal out. Caleb bent down and from his bag he took a short silver whistle on a length of fine chain. He placed it between his lips and blew three long notes. He glassed the yard again. Sure enough, the animal was standing stock still, its ears alert and searching for the source of the sound that no human could detect.
Caleb blew again, three notes. The dog began to run and then disappeared from view amongst the trees. Caleb continued to blow at regular intervals, sure the dog would find him; sure that he would soon move on to the next stage.
And what a stage that would be, he thought as the first drops of rain began to fall, and from the trees below he heard an excited bark.
38
Jessie opened the freezer, removed the sausage meat from its wrapping and popped it into the microwave to defrost. Maybe Mike would be late, maybe not, but either way she was going to make him the dish he loved. She felt it was the very least she could do. No, it was all she could do.
She switched the radio on to a music station to distract herself while she worked. She browned the sausage to seal in the flavour and placed it to one side. She began slicing vegetables, and sautéing onions and mushrooms. She added a chopped red pepper to the onions and stirred them in gently.
Try as she might, she couldn’t get Fay’s words out of her head. Her relationship with her mother-in-law had always been civil, if a little forced, but she knew Fay to be a good woman with a kind heart and it grieved her to have caused her pain and upset.
The phone rang on the draining board, scaring her half to death. She was annoyed that she had forgotten to unplug it again. She checked caller ID and breathed a sigh of pent-up anxiety as she recognised Lou-Ann’s number.
‘Hi.’
‘Hi you,’ Lou-Ann’s voice was soft and so full of kindness Jessie felt tears again.
‘Oh Lou-Ann, everything is falling apart.’
‘It’s all right, sugar. It’s all right, come on now, talk to me.’
Everything poured out: the fight with Mike, Fay, her fears, all her grief over the past; the words tumbled from her mouth so fast she could hardly hold them. Lou-Ann listened in silence until Jessie was finished, then comforted her and offered solidarity.
‘To hell with ’em!’ Lou-Ann said. ‘You think you’re the only one in Rockville with a closet full of skeletons? Hell, can’t you hear the valley rattling? There’s not a one of them can be holier than thou and that’s a fact.’
‘Mike could be,’ Jessie sniffed, drying her tears o
n a sheet of kitchen towel.
‘Mike is a stand-up man Jessie, and there’s no denying that. He won’t turn his back on you.’
‘You didn’t see how he looked at me last night.’ Jessie began crying afresh. ‘I don’t know what to do, Lou.’
‘Hold your head up, that’s what you do, and let anyone who doesn’t like that go whistle.’
‘It’s not that easy.’
‘Nothing worth doing ever is.’
They spoke for a while longer, until Lou-Ann remembered she had to pick up the kids.
‘Want me to stop by later?’
‘No, no thank you,’ Jessie said. ‘I appreciate the offer; I appreciate everything you’ve said.’
‘Think nothing of it. Jessie,’ Lou-Ann’s voice became serious. ‘I know you’re hurting; I know you’re hurting really bad right now, but let me tell you something my mom used to say whenever things got tough. She’d say, “This too shall pass.” I promise you, Jessie, this too shall pass.’
After they said their goodbyes, Jessie returned to the counter and finished making the stew. As she added the stock, drops of rain began to fall – a light spray at first, but within seconds it became a downpour. There was another loud rumble of thunder, closer this time. The lights in the house flickered and the hairs on Jessie’s arms rose.
Jessie turned down the heat under her food and went to the front door. She stepped out onto the porch and was surprised that Rudy was not already at the door, demanding to be let in.
‘Rudy!’ She turned her head to her left. ‘Rudy! Come on, Rudy, let’s go.’ She waited, but Rudy did not come. She went back inside and stood in the hall for a moment, deciding what to do next. She grabbed her keys and a raincoat from the closet and went outside.
‘Rudy!’
She walked towards the trees and whistled. Still there was no sign. She wondered where he had got to and hoped he was all right. He had once chased a rabbit off the property and had been missing for a day, but that had been many years previously, and not while there was a storm in the air.
Jessie returned to the house and tried to occupy herself, but when another hour passed and there was still no sign of the dog, she locked up and went in search of him. She searched all around the grounds and sheds, calling all the while. The rain was heavy now, driving hard against her face and hands.
‘Rudy!’
Flickers of fear began to form into more solid shapes.
‘Rudy!’
She made her way up the drive and noticed with dismay the gate standing wide open. She ran up onto the road and looked this way and that. Which way? She turned right and made her way along the ditch, calling every few yards, pausing to see if she could hear anything. She was half a mile from the gate when a gold car came down the road towards her and passed her slowly. Jessie had gone on a few paces when she heard the car stop and a door open. The engine was still running.
‘Ma’am?’
Jessie turned around and wiped the rain from her eyes. A tall bearded man stood with one foot out of the driver’s door.
‘Ma’am?’ he called. ‘Are you looking for a dog? Black? Short tail?’
‘Yes!’ Jessie yelled, feeling an almost overwhelming relief surge through her body. ‘Have you seen him?’
He looked down for a moment and Jessie felt her relief die.
‘What is it?’
‘Ma’am, I’m real sorry. He’s lying up a ways yonder, looks to me like he was hit by a car.’
‘Oh no.’ Jessie stood rooted to the spot, feeling the rain run down her face onto her collarbone. She tried to find something to say, but all she could muster was a weak, ‘Oh no, no.’
‘Look, get in,’ the man said. ‘I’ll run you up to him.’
Jessie walked towards him in a daze of misery. She was almost at the trunk when she thought she heard it pop and the bearded driver came towards her. Jessie stopped inches from the trunk and blinked.
‘You know what, I think I’ll go get my own car. Whereabouts did you—’
And then the world went black.
39
‘Mike?’
‘What?’
Ace wiped his hands clean on a rag and pushed the brim of his cap up a little higher on his head. ‘I asked if you want to take a spin out to The Shack when we’re finished up here.’
Mike sat back on his hunkers. ‘Neville’s place? Shit, is that dump still standing?’
‘It’s standing.’
Mike considered the offer. Though he had told Jessie he was probably going to head to Ray’s for a drink, the longer the afternoon had stretched on the more he realised he did not in fact want to go to Ray’s Diner. It was Friday, payday for most of Rockville. Ray’s would likely be busy and Mike could not face the questions in the eyes of so many people he had known most of his life. He could not face their curiosity – or worse, their pity.
‘Well?’
‘Sure. Why not?’
‘All right then.’ Ace looked up at the sky as raindrops, big and heavy, began to fall onto the yard.
Mike attached the last wheel. Ace helped him pull a sheet of tarpaulin over the Mini and waited as Mike parked his truck out the front of the building and locked it. Together they drove out of town, turned east and began driving high into the hills behind Rockville. As they drove, Ace smoked and played some old-time music that reminded Mike of when they were kids.
‘What is this music? It sounds familiar.’
‘It oughta,’ Ace said, blowing jets of smoke through his nostrils. ‘It’s Doc and Chickie Williams. Pop used to listen to ’em when he was working on the house. Don’t you remember?’
‘I remember now.’
‘You used to dance around the house to “Polka Dots and Polka Dreams”.’
‘Dance?’
‘Sure, Pop would laugh and say, “Look at that one go!”’
Mick glanced at him sceptically. ‘I don’t remember no dancing.’
‘Well you did, and it made Pop happy that you liked his music. He said you reminded him of a time when he was a kid himself.’
Mike laid his head back against his seat. The music relaxed and comforted him and he listened to the songs and thought of his father while Ace kept his eyes on the road, concentrating as the rain hammered against the windscreen. Visibility was reduced to a few scant feet before the headlights.
They reached The Shack shortly before seven. The varied beer signs were jazzily lit against the darkening air. Already there were a number of trucks and chopped-down motorcycles in the dirt parking lot outside.
‘Busy,’ Mike said.
‘Friday,’ Ace said, by way of an explanation.
They got out and ran through the rain into the building. Inside, the bar was crowded with pockets of drinkers; some dry, some steaming gently.
‘Well hey there, Ace. Good to see you again.’ Coraline Neville, short, round and cute as a button sashayed past carrying a tray loaded with whisky shots to a table of marauders seated in the corner. Ace nodded to her, but remained silent.
‘Let’s sit at the counter,’ Ace said.
‘Since you’re so familiar. Lead the way.’
Ace scowled. Mike detected a trace of colour bloom on his neckline and hid a grin behind a cough. He understood now why they had travelled so far for a drink. He was strangely gratified that Ace had managed to blend his own desires with his brother’s current needs.
They perched for a number of hours on a pair of stools, shooting the breeze with Coraline and then later with her father, Red Neville. Red was a cantankerous old coot long blown in from Nova Scotia. He was a born storyteller and liked nothing more than to regale anyone who might listen with wild tales of his days as a merchant seaman, before he got landlocked into what he affectionately called, ‘this god forsaken shithole’. Red talked his talk and Coraline rolled her eyes and tenderly reminded him of whichever piece of the story he was forgetting. It was an entertaining double act, and after a while some of the tension eased from Mike’s sho
ulders.
During a quiet spell, when Red was changing a barrel and Coraline was off collecting glasses, Mike leaned towards his brother. ‘You like her, huh?’
Ace tossed a shot of Beam back and jammed a cigarette into his mouth. ‘She’s all right.’
‘Why don’t you ask her out?’
Ace shrugged.
‘It’s obvious you like her and she likes you.’
‘Quit digging through sand, Mike. I ain’t your project.’
Mike downed his own Beam and decided to keep his thoughts on romance to himself.
The storm had blown over by the time they left the bar and night had long fallen. Mike looked to the sky. Above him, millions of stars twinkled against the inky backdrop and the air smelled of pine and earth. He was drunk as a skunk. Ace lit a cigarette and opened the driver’s door. Mike slipped and slopped gingerly over the muddy ground and came to a halt, resting both hands on the trailer. ‘I appreciate this. I do, Ace, I want you to know that.’
‘I know it.’
‘It’s all … a fucking mess, y’know?’
‘This shit will pass over, Mike. You think it won’t ’cause you’re caught up in it, but it will. Next week, week after, something else will come along to entertain the masses.’
‘And Jessie? What about her?’
‘That’ll die down too.’
‘You think so?’
‘If you let it.’
‘She lied to me.’
‘I’m thinking she must have had her reasons.’
‘That’s it?’
‘What else is there?’ Ace got in the truck and closed the door. After a moment Mike did the same. He was asleep before the truck made it to the first bend in the road. Next thing he knew Ace was shaking him by the shoulder.
‘Home.’
He sat up blearily and fumbled for the door handle, but before he had it open he heard Ace say, ‘There’s no one here I reckon.’
Mike looked. The house was in complete darkness and Jessie’s car was not where it should have been. ‘Where is she?’