An approaching vehicle’s headlights swept against my fluttering eyelids. This disruption roused me into consciousness again. The sky had darkened considerably over El Dorado Drive in the past three minutes, and the rainfall drummed against my windshield with the cadence of a thousand synchronized fingertips. I needed a moment to stabilize my thoughts and recall the purpose of my stakeout in front of Leon Chase’s home. He must’ve recognized my car as he pulled up his steep driveway like a knight mounted on a decorated steed. But he made no attempt to acknowledge my position. If this was a purposeful snub on his behalf, I viewed it as further confirmation of his guilt. I presumed that this was no more disturbing than the rage currently infesting my disposition.
I soon fixated on the revolver situated on the seat beside me. A compulsion to grasp the weapon in my hand overwhelmed me. I reached for it as greedily as a chubby kid fetching the last cookie from a jar. After my fingers connected with the gun, a euphoric charge pulsed through my body. The weakness that plagued me for most of today suddenly vanished, and I felt like a valiant warrior capable of undoing all the world’s evils. But did I truly wish to use a bullet to underscore my resentment toward Leon? He may have slept with my wife, but did such imprudence justify a punishment of death? If I had more time to mull over the consequences, I might’ve refrained from tucking the gun into the beltline of my pants. Now I felt ready for whatever awaited me at the top of his driveway.
Before exiting my car, however, I offered another glance at my untouched journal. I thought briefly about carrying this empty book with me as well, if only because it reminded me of a safer time in my life. Ultimately, I left the journal on the seat, keeping my hands free of any object that might’ve impeded a defensive reaction later on. Since it wasn’t customary for me to arrive at my friend’s house uninvited, I’m sure Leon must’ve wondered why I chose to visit him at such an unusual time. As I walked up the driveway through channels of rainfall flowing under my shoes, Leon hadn’t even bothered to get out of his Lexus. The car idled in his driveway outside the garage, and I watched him gripping the steering wheel a tad tighter with my advance.
Leon remained poised within the leather comfort of his ride, but this must’ve belied the anxious thoughts teeming through his mind harder than the rain pelting my face. I watched his normally narrow eyes widen in the vehicle’s rearview mirror. The man’s swarthy skin never really lost any of its youthful elasticity, but for a brief moment I imagined that he surrendered a shade of pigment to cowardice upon seeing me. I didn’t wish to reveal my wicked deliberation prematurely, so I maintained an aura of calmness while sidling next to his garage.
For the most part, Leon was always an untouchable man, insulated against gravity’s relentless assault on one’s comeliness. If there was ever a nick in his boyish features, I couldn’t perceive it. In terms of hair, he seemed to pick up all the follicles that I had dropped from my scalp over the last decade, and it remained as black and luxurious as his eyes. His defined muscles rippled through a white silk shirt that I presumed would’ve never survived a splash of burgundy. He must’ve worked out everyday to maintain such a physique, or at least during those times when my wife visited the gym. In all the years that I’d known him, I couldn’t recall an instance where he was deprived of a female companion. His greatest blunder, however, was a polluted belief that he could’ve seduced any man’s wife without a censure. Complacency and good fortune never walked abreast for too long a period. Perhaps it was only fitting that his reign ended on a day stricken by storm clouds.
When it became certain that my presence wasn’t merely a mirage, Leon stomached the nerve to shut down his car’s engine and greet me properly. His face remained fittingly placid, and he refrained from any abrupt movement that might’ve provoked me while he exited the vehicle. In spite of his reserved demeanor, I didn’t sense any genuine sorrow brewing under his brow. I doubt Leon envisioned himself standing in a rainstorm attired in his tailored suit, facing a man who looked like he was rolling around in the mud all day.
Then, in an act of unsurpassed showmanship, Leon offered me an empathetic sigh that prefaced an artificial reaction. “My god, Corbin, I just heard on the radio what happened at the high school. Of course, the news isn’t telling many details. Some kid got hurt pretty bad, huh?”
I nodded my head submissively while watching the raindrops beat against Leon’s unlined forehead, before spilling over his cheeks and disappearing into a chinstrap of dark whiskers outlining his jaw.
“You must be pretty shaken up,” he proceeded. “Do you need anything?” I paused intentionally to monitor my friend’s mannerisms, but more importantly, his clothing. A portion of his shirt’s tail stuck out of the waistline of his charcoal slacks, and his raspberry-colored tie appeared newly knotted. I wondered if he spent the better half of this afternoon in my wife’s company before returning to more familiar terrain.
“It’s been a traumatic day for you,” he continued, while nudging me toward the open garage. “Let’s get out of the rain and discuss it, okay?” I followed Leon beneath the overhang of his garage and permitted him a few seconds to dab the raindrops from his face with a handkerchief that matched his tie. He extended the same cloth to me, but I declined it. My prolonged silence unsettled the typically stoic man; his tone sounded slightly sharper than I remembered.
“Take as much time as you need,” he espoused, still playing the part of a noble confidant. “Did they find out what happened to that kid yet?”
“He’s dead,” I answered tonelessly. Even I recognized the passionless pitch of my statement, and Leon’s face became clearly more ashen as my words registered in his mind.
“Dead?” he repeated. “The news just said that some boy got taken away in an ambulance. What the hell happened?”
“The boy was stabbed with a knife in his chest by another student,” I responded without any audible difference from my previous words.
“Jesus, this is a damn tragedy, Corb. I can’t imagine what all those kids are going through right now.”
“Normally, they’d be pretty upset, but there’s some people at the school who won’t be very sorry that he’s not coming back tomorrow.” Leon appeared appalled by my frank omission. After all, this was a time to display anguish and remorse, even when these feelings were blatant contrivances.
“I…I don’t understand what you mean,” Leon replied. “Why would anyone want something like this to happen?”
“It wasn’t an accident, Leon,” I reiterated. “The boy was murdered.”
“Knowing this makes me sick. You all must still be in shock.”
“Maybe so,” I uttered. “But I don’t want to belabor those feelings right now. As you might’ve already guessed, I didn’t come here to sulk over what happened at school today.”
Because Leon had acquired an aptitude to articulate lies between his lips as effortlessly as a lawyer making a deposition, I had no interest in any denial he aimed to spew at me. We exchanged unbalanced glances, but his gaze tilted away in disgrace. For once, this traditionally sly-talking real estate tycoon appeared frazzled while trying to slither out of a predicament.
“Hey, I’m glad you stopped by under such tough circumstances. What did you want to say to me?”
“I’ve come to talk about my wife,” I responded flatly. Leon hesitated, furrowing his brow as if my response surprised him. Surely, he was crafty enough to have at least formulated some palpable excuse for keeping company with Rachel in the event I ever confronted him. When a fellow sleeps with his buddy’s woman, he’d have to be either grossly obtuse or arrogant to ignore the possibility of being cornered by an accusation sooner or later. Of course, Leon hadn’t elbowed his way to the forefront of financial grace through any semblance of veracity. I anticipated a perplexed reaction followed by a swift denial.
“Are you telling me that you drove over here to talk about Rachel?” he asked through a smirk that almost earned the attention of my knuckles.
I nodded before clarifyin
g my mission. “Actually, to be precise, it’s about both of you.” Leon straightened his back as if someone slapped him with a steel rod across the back of his thighs. His cover-up, of course, was only in its infancy. I wondered how much longer he intended to nurture it.
“I…I don’t know exactly what you’re trying to say,” he stammered. “What about us?”
“I know everything,” I announced, hoping that his confession would’ve come easy now. The paleness enveloping Leon’s face couldn’t be dismissed as anything but apprehension, but he playfully nudged my elbow with his hand as if I designed to make him the brunt of a joke.
“C’mon, Corb,” he jested. “You’re just messing around with me, right?”
My eyes remained fixated on his, offering no trace of hilarity. I then said, “I wish this was all a hoax. But I don’t even think my timing for humor is that awful, do you?”
Leon continued to project his feigned bafflement, and seeing that he had little flexibility to do otherwise, I couldn’t fault the effort. “I don’t know what crazy ideas you’ve got stirring in your head,” he remarked, “but you’re starting to worry me.”
“Really? If it takes any pressure off you, I passed worrying about six hours ago.”
“Are you accusing me of something?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Well, what do you think I’ve done?”
It may have been difficult for Leon to accept at the moment, but I derived no joy in exposing his duplicity. I simply stalled with my explanation to determine if he felt any compassion for my situation whatsoever. Maybe I just wanted to hear an authentic confession from him, rather than one coerced through the introduction of facts. Three decades was a long time to keep any friend close, and perhaps entirely too long for one who was proficient at deception. I suppose self-preservation overrode sentiments of sincerity. Leon maintained his ignorance to my implication just as frigidly as if we had never shared more than a day of friendship. If I hoped to advance our conversation into anything constructive, I needed a more plainspoken approach.
“I was hoping that we could avoid this awkwardness,” I announced glumly. “But when you’re married for as long as I’ve been, it’s never a wise decision to become complacent. It was stupid of me to give Rachel unlimited trust, and probably even more asinine to trust you.”
“Look, I don’t know exactly what you’re implying, but you’re off the mark by a country mile. It sounds like you think I got something going on with your wife.”
“Well, don’t you?”
“We’re only friends, Corb. I can’t believe you think I’d stoop to that level. How long have we known each other—over thirty years? I know that you and Rachel are going through a rough period right now, but you should talk things over with her before you come over to my house and start making such farfetched allegations.”
Perhaps I should’ve let him wriggle deeper into the excrement of his lies, but I decided to truncate the vagaries of our communication. “I didn’t come over here to ask you if you’re having an affair with my wife,” I said. “My real question to you is why? In all the years we’ve known each other, you’ve never set any boundaries for yourself. But I never imagined that you’d want to take the one thing away from me that you didn’t have to call your own.”
Predictably, Leon focused his stare on anything but my discriminating eyes. Pellets of sweat now replaced the rainwater on his forehead and neck. I presumed if Leon still possessed a shred of integrity, he would’ve soon showed me his regret. But this was a man who behaved like a cornered tiger under tense circumstances.
“You know,” he said stolidly, “Rachel did tell me that you’ve been sick lately—something wrong with your head, maybe?”
“That’s another matter.”
“Well, whatever is wrong with you, I don’t have to stand here and listen to such nonsense.”
“But you haven’t even heard the evidence I’ve collected yet.”
“You’re just testing me. You don’t have anything on me.”
“Let’s just say I have a neighbor who keeps a pretty close watch on the folks who pass through Willows Edge. You know her, too. Cora Hart has been living in the same house for over fifty years.”
“Really? That holy roller is still up to her old tricks, huh?”
“I don’t know, but her eyesight hasn’t failed her yet. According to Mrs. Hart, you’ve been parking your Lexus in my driveway every Tuesday and Thursday mornings for the past few months. Does that sound like an old trick to you?”
Leon attempted to cast another quizzical expression at me, but his forced confusion only caused him to appear increasingly culpable. After realizing that he couldn’t project a credible excuse to cover up his tracks, he decided on a compromise to his earlier refutation.
“Is that what this is all about?” he huffed. “Your wife must never tell you what’s going on in her life. It just so happens that I’m working with her company on a couple of huge property investments. We’ve had quite a few meetings of late.”
“At my home?”
“Yeah, I mean some of them. We’ve met at the coffee shop, too, and maybe a few other places. The point is, Corb, it’s been nothing but business between us.”
“You know, if it was any other day, I might’ve bought that line of bunk. Unfortunately, I already talked to my wife this morning, and it turns she has half a conscience after all.”
“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Rachel told me about the affair,” I said cheerlessly. “She couldn’t tell me to my face, of course, but her letter spelled things out for me.” Even a trapped tiger relented to authority when its last line of defense faltered, but Leon tried fiercely to sink his fangs into his fabrication.
His voice quavered when he spoke again. “You’re really being serious, aren’t you?”
The blank look I shot at him hadn’t altered since I walked up his driveway, so I wondered how much longer he’d attempt to convince me that I was using him as bait in a comedic game. “You can do a lot to hurt a friendship and still repair it,” I uttered, “but I suppose screwing a friend’s wife ranks as an unforgivable offense. I already know that Rachel wouldn’t have slept with you if you didn’t promise her something more stimulating than sex. Once she explained her motivation in the letter, everything started to make sense.”
“I’m glad you think it does,” Leon snapped, “because I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Well, Leon, maybe I can get Rachel to come over here and help elaborate on the details in front of your wife. Rachel was under the impression that you planned to run away with her and show her the finer things beyond Willows Edge. It’s a schoolgirl’s fantasy, I know, but you’ve always been so skilled at making the illogical sound legit.”
“I can’t say the same for you.”
“Not enough practice from this end,” I granted. “But let’s cut to the core of the matter, shall we?”
“You mean there’s more?”
“That you’ll have to inform me,” I returned. “My wife has this fanciful notion that you’re in love with her. Where would she ever get a crazy idea like that?”
The weight of Leon’s lies caused his shoulders to slouch like melting butter. His synthetic smile faded from his mouth too as he backpedaled against a workbench in the garage’s corner. “Oh, Corb,” he uttered in defeat. “Trust me, I never wanted things to get this far out of hand.”
The formerly defiant look in Leon’s eyes drained from him as if a hole punctured the side of his head. I remained motionless while staring at him, briefly resting my hand on the revolver hidden beneath my shirt. He managed to exhale a condensed breath, hoping to display his remorse by admitting the truth to me. “None of this was ever planned,” he insisted. “I don’t even remember why or how it got started.”
“Wouldn’t it be convenient for a lecher such as yourself to bed another man’s wife and expect no emotional attachment?” I asked, a
nticipating no reply. “Even an idiot knows that it’s impossible to keep these things secret forever. Eventually, the fantasy falls apart like a mansion without a foundation, and all that’s left to do is to clean up the rubble.”
I’d never seen Leon grovel before this instance; it didn’t suit the normally graceful man’s character well. He held his forehead with his hand as he proceeded with his confession. “I’ve been a selfish asshole. I should’ve stayed away from her. I know that now. But I guess I was just too damn weak to turn her down.”
“How long have you two been arranging your business meetings?”
“I don’t know. Close to three months, I guess.”
“Do you love my wife, Leon?”
Leon’s mouth tightened as he withheld his first thought. He nearly split his bottom lip while tensing the muscles in his jaw. “I…I can’t say that I honestly do,” he stammered. “You know I’m a married man. Rachel and I are just friends. We just took it a step too far.”
“That step, as you refer to it, had Rachel believing that you were going to be her next husband.”
“People say things they don’t really mean during intimate moments,” Leon rationalized. “I must’ve mentioned a few things to her along those lines, but it wasn’t meant to be taken seriously. She knows I’d never leave Peggy and my son.”
“Funny thing is, she doesn’t know that at all. In fact, if you told her that you wanted to take off with her right now, she’d probably leave with you tonight.”
“It was all a mistake, Corb. I know it was wrong, but the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you or your wife. But you know I can’t take back any of it now. Just believe me when I tell you that I’m sorry and I’ll never do it again.”
My fingers twitched on the gun’s handle, warming its wooden veneer almost instantaneously. I thought about brandishing the weapon, but withheld it for now. Rather than immerse my thoughts in such rage, I elected to rekindle a memory that dissolved some of the bitterness.
“Is there any way that you’ll ever be able to forgive me?” Leon then asked.
“We’ll see,” I told him. “You know, I was just thinking about the times when we used to climb trees as kids. I got to give you credit, Leon, even back in those days you were always a limb or two ahead of me.” Leon seemed befuddled by my untimely remembrance, which under the circumstances didn’t surprise me. “The woods around Lake Endelman were a bit deeper back in those days,” I continued. “Do you remember the line of cedar and pine trees bordering Ol’ man Young’s farmyard? Those times were good indeed.”
Leon nodded compliantly, but he must’ve suspected that I had a motive other than the conveyance of boyhood nostalgia. I watched as his fingers traced skittishly over the wood bench he leaned upon. “That was a much simpler time,” he said, still pondering my rumination scrupulously.
“Jack Young had the tallest trees growing on his property. Do you recall that day when we were racing side-by-side up that fifty-foot spruce near his silo?”
Leon shook his head slightly before saying, “We climbed quite a few trees back then, but I think you challenged me to see who could get to the top of that tree first.”
“That’s right,” I agreed. “I threw down the gauntlet. But unlike most days, on that particular one I felt like I couldn’t be beaten. If I remember correctly, I think I had a good lead on you for most of the way up.”
“Maybe you’re right,” said Leon. “My memory isn’t as sharp as yours.”
“But you must remember what occurred,” I contended.
“No, I don’t. I guess I forgot.”
“You were always the better student, the fastest swimmer, the best ballplayer, and although I didn’t want to admit it, a superior tree climber. On my best day I couldn’t normally surpass you. But I had something to prove when we went up that spruce on that early spring morning. I was convinced that you’d be looking up at me when I reached the top branch.”
“Look, Corb, that was a long time ago. We were just kids back then, and maybe I was a little bit too competitive for my own good.”
“Don’t cheapen the moment,” I snapped. “There’s nothing wrong with being the best at anything you do and letting people know it. If you want to know the truth, Leon, you were my hero back then. I envied you, and it was because of this precise reason that I felt it necessary for me to outdo you at something.”
“What’s the point of talking about this right now?”
“I was four limbs from the top of that goddamn tree,” I muttered regretfully. “And you know what happened next, don’t you?”
“I’m not sure.”
“That old spruce let me know just how old it really was. I can still hear the crack of the branch. It might as well been my own arm severing at the elbow. That sound—that fractured limb—represented the last chance I ever had any advantage over you, but it didn’t last for long.”
Perhaps Leon understood my disappointment, and the current dilemma only solidified the notion that my boyhood companion continued to exceed my capabilities even as we aged. His present discomfort, however, was just a temporary glitch in his dominance. “Over the years,” I went on, “I sometimes wondered if you purposely let me get ahead of you during that climb. You probably knew that the branches on the treetop were weaker than its lower ones.”
Leon hesitated in his response, and I couldn’t fault him for neglecting to relay any cogent feedback from an incident that happened over thirty years ago. But I knew he hadn’t forgotten the events that followed the broken branch. His brave deed must’ve still been embedded in his brain, as it was my own. When it became evident that Leon was stumped on conveying an appropriate response, I proceeded with my story.
“The fact is, Leon, had you not pretended to be the slower climber on that day, there would’ve been no one to prevent me from falling nearly fifty feet to the ground.”
“I did what any friend would’ve done.”
“You could’ve easily fallen yourself when you grabbed hold of my leg, but you didn’t let go. In that moment, my life meant something to you.”
“I…I don’t know what to say. You still mean something to me. I never intended for you to think otherwise. Even friends can make mistakes, Corbin.”
“I’ve been rehearsing that possibility in my mind all day. But some mistakes deserve punishment, don’t they?”
“I’ve already promised you that I wouldn’t see your wife again. What else can I do?”
Under normal circumstances, Leon’s pledge might’ve quelled my jealousy. Because he saved my life so many years ago on that tree, maybe he at least deserved a chance to rectify his indiscretions. “Obviously,” I said, “Rachel is smart enough to understand that a married man doesn’t abandon his wife and child to marry someone else’s spouse. However, being the gallant guy that you are, I’m assuming you offered Rachel castles in the air. I’ve known you far too many years to speculate anything less cunning. But I didn’t come here to rehash what you’ve done. It’s more important to figure out how we’re going to handle the situation now.”
Before I delivered a sensible solution, my attention swayed to a door opening at the far end of the garage. Peggy Chase leaned in the doorway’s shadowed frame. Her dark hair fell across mocha-colored shoulders, and her eyes looked upon us with all the transfixed naivety of a doe staring into an oncoming truck’s headlights. She must’ve wondered what delayed Leon from entering their house. After she noticed me, a short smile formed on her lips, but she kept her concentration focused on her husband.
“Leon, are you coming in soon, babe?” she asked.
I remained quiet as Leon muttered a response. “Hey, honey. Yeah. I’ll be in shortly. Corbin just stopped over.”
Peggy acknowledged me with a wider grin, but it seemed more reserved than I remembered. This normally extroverted woman looked hard-pressed when searching for the proper greeting for me. Suddenly, I felt as if we were meeting for the first time. Maybe she had already heard about the murd
er at school and wondered what my present state of mind might’ve been. “Why don’t you fellows come inside,” she suggested. “It’s damp out there.”
“Hello, Peg,” I said, matching her thin smile with one of my own. “I just stopped over for a couple minutes. I really got to get heading home myself. Don’t want to keep the little lady waiting, if you know what I mean.”
“Well, okay,” she replied. “How’s Rachel doing anyway? I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks.”
My eyes traced toward Leon before I said, “She’s been quite busy lately, but I’ll tell her to give you a call as soon as she can.”
“That would be nice. Maybe we can all get together for dinner at Rounders next week or something.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I returned. While speaking, I fastened my eyes on Leon’s face, which by now looked blotched with shame. I imagined that he assumed I planned to sabotage his marriage in the same manner he destroyed mine. At this stage, I had no doubt determined that Peggy remained unaware of her husband’s philandering routine. Leon must’ve been impressed on how I managed to withhold my urge to expose his mistress. He waited until his wife retreated back into the house before investigating my intentions more thoroughly.
“I guess you’re going to tell my wife, huh?” he inquired, perhaps sounding as wretched as I appeared. His hands now gripped the wooden bench beside him.
“I’ve thought of at least a hundred different ways to make you feel the hurt and humility that I’m going through. But after thinking it over, if I decided to act on my impulse, I’d be responsible for causing Peggy the same kind of pain that I’m experiencing right now.”
“So you’re not going to say anything to her?”
“No, Leon, but you are. I won’t be the messenger who tramples on your wife’s emotions. The only decent thing to do is assure that she hears the truth from you.”
Naturally, Leon didn’t want any part of such a demoralizing task. “C’mon, Corb, we can handle this situation without getting Peggy involved.” He was mindful to keep his voice even-tempered now in case his wife was within earshot of our conversation. “You know how sensitive she is. I don’t want this mistake to break up my family. If nothing else matters, think about my son.”
I expected Leon to play upon my compassionate spirit. Of course, this would’ve been a risky venture on his behalf if he knew what I had concealed beneath my shirt. At least I had resisted my initial instinct of planting a bullet in his groin, thereby ensuring that he’d never contaminate another marriage. The fact that Leon supported his position by dangling his status as a father in front of me like a layer of insulation didn’t provide him with the protection he hoped to manufacture.
“I’m offering you something that neither my wife nor you extended to me,” I proceeded. “You’ll have a chance to ask for Peggy’s forgiveness after you confess to your betrayal. She’ll then determine if you’re ever worth trusting again.”
“She won’t understand,” Leon bemoaned. “You know how women are when it comes to these sort of things.”
“Do I? Well, I’m sure my wife told you otherwise. Of course, I thought I had her figured out, but my skill at anticipating the motivations of those closest to me isn’t as honed as I once believed.”
Leon built a lucrative career with his prowess at talking circles around his competition, but our discourse had rendered him inadequate in any sort of negotiation. He suddenly looked like an ordinary pervert with his pants tangled around his ankles. “Isn’t there anything I can do so we can figure this out ourselves? I’m asking you this favor as one friend to another, Corbin.”
My stare shed little in the way of hope that I would’ve ever tagged this adulterer as my friend again. I simply shook my head at his pathetic bid to appeal to my kindness. “I’m going to give you until tomorrow morning to tell Peggy,” I affirmed. “By then, I’ll expect a phone call from her. It will be better for you if you don’t skip over the details. I won’t be as conservative with my version of the facts.”
“I can’t believe you won’t work this out with me. We’ve been friends for a hell of a long time. Shit, I know I screwed up, but Peggy is innocent, and I can’t see the point in wrecking two marriages over this. And there’s also something else to consider. If Peggy and I break up, it’s going to make it harder for you to reconcile with Rachel.”
I edged closer to my wife’s lover as he spoke, realizing that his frantic bid for clemency seemed as rehearsed and unemotional as the last five years of my marriage. I managed to keep my hands from straying too close to my waistline during these seconds. When I probed Leon’s eyes more intently, I confirmed my earlier suspicion. This man cared nothing about my welfare. Surely, he must’ve recognized the evidence of my illness by now, yet he remained impassive.
“As you might’ve guessed already,” I prompted him, “I’m not in the best of health. In truth, there’s a good chance I won’t be around much longer to fret about Rachel’s future.”
“I didn’t know how sick you really were.”
“I’m not surprised. I’m sure you and Rachel had quite a few laughs at my expense.”
“It wasn’t like that, Corb. Rachel never talked cruelly about you to me. Deep down, I think she’s really still in love with you.”
“Don’t flatter me with bullshit, Leon.”
“I’m being serious. I’m just going on a feeling, of course. You two have a lot of years together. Maybe you don’t want to give up so easily.”
The longer I remained in this huckster’s company, the more likely it was that he’d attempt to fluff up my confidence with artificial platitudes. But I was wise enough to comprehend that Rachel’s passion for me had fizzled long before Leon finagled his way between her knees. A man may have the skill of a sailor when sensing the knots of togetherness fraying between his fingers. In the case of my marriage, the ties that once bound us had unraveled into the tides of time long ago.
“I’m not going to stand here and try to convince you that I was always Rachel’s first choice for a husband,” I said. “Maybe it’s essential for a man to pretend that he’s not expendable in his wife’s eyes, but it’s so often the other way around. People can be replaced, and there’s no immunity for anyone in a relationship today. In the end, I’m convinced we’ll all have to rediscover how much we really matter to one another.”
Leon looked at me as if he was trying to emulate sorrow; I hoped he channeled it more persuasively when delivering these tidings to his wife. “If I knew you were so sick,” he grimaced, “I would’ve stayed away from Rachel. She never told me too much about it when I was with her.”
“Did you expect her to rejoice in the fact that I was dying while she was rolling around in the sack with you?”
The command in Leon’s voice diminished considerably as he muttered his next statement. “I guess I have no other choice.” He pivoted toward the doorway where Peggy stood a few minutes earlier. We heard his wife and son singing a song together on the opposite side of the door. “It seems so damn unfair,” he then uttered. “Peggy has gone out of her way to make my life easier, and I’ve let her down in the worst possible way. How could I ever repay her?”
“The price of love is sometimes steep, but the cost of trust can’t be calculated.”
“So what are you going to do now, Corb?”
In an indecisive moment, I instinctively angled my head toward the open garage in order to capture a glimpse of the sky. Perhaps I hoped to observe a pocket of blue sky grappling with the smoky clouds, but this day already surrendered to the rain. “There’s nothing left for me to do other than to go and see Rachel,” I said soberly.
“Maybe my apology has come too late,” Leon offered, “but I want you to know how ashamed I feel of my actions.”
“We’ll see what tomorrow brings,” I replied. With my emotions now wholly exhausted, I paced out of Leon’s garage without turning back toward him. Raindrops splattered against my cheeks as I stepped away from the shelter.
I had nothing else to say to Leon at the moment. He needed to set his own life in order, and I couldn’t fully explain why I trusted him to do so. A distinct possibility existed that I’d never see Leon again, and this notion caused me to press the backside of my hand against the secured gun. I thought about the bullets still housed in the revolver’s chamber. Why didn’t I shoot Leon? Maybe he was never the true target of my aggression.
Before I immersed my thoughts too deeply in this notion, I watched a V formation of Canada geese flapping across the sky. Although I preferred the loons, the sight of any bird in flight filled me with a sense of ambition. How I wished that I could’ve flown above the perils that hindered my path upon this earth. My hand shifted away from the gun for a moment, and I extended it into my pocket to feel the silver loonie. I clasped the coin as if it was a precious stone serving as a conduit to the magic that once swirled in my heart.
Eventually, I returned to my car to escape the rainfall, but I hardly noticed my saturated clothing in these seconds. Of course, I knew that I couldn’t secure a refuge from my ongoing episodes. I simply reclined in the driver’s seat and waited for my next transference through time.
Chapter 64
4:41 P.M.
The Classic Crusade of Corbin Cobbs Page 64