by Jen Wright
"OK, go ahead and give me the test."
"I left him there. He said he was going to shoot something for dinner. We were all out of cash, because of the wrecked loot…." Again, she glanced in Nate's direction before continuing, "So, like, that was his solution. I hate seeing things die." Katie choked up for about thirty seconds, and Jo was worried she was going to pass out before the important part of the story.
"So, I went back to the car to wait until he was done hunting, and I took some pills. Not meth… some pain meds to take the edge off. When I heard the shot, I figured, OK, he's done with that mess, and I headed back toward the shack.
"I knew something hinky was going on when I saw this big ugly guy skulking around in the woods near Rick's clearing. I stayed away and hid behind some trees, 'cuz I've learned to keep still and shut my mouth when shit happens. I really shoulda' screamed or somethin', though. He took Rick's gun, and before I knew it, he was marching Rick off with his hands up."
Katie broke off, looked up at the ceiling as if she couldn't go on.
"It's OK," Jo said with a tenderness as deep as the girl's distress. "Then what happened?"
"That's all I know. I went back to the car and waited a really long time. All that while, I was as scared as I could be that that ugly bastard would come back for me. I waited a really long time, over an hour. But I knew if I stayed there, I would be next. I just knew it."
"You're probably right. Look what happened to me," Jo pointed to her arm and tried to get the girl to smile, even though the thought of Rick's final hours was almost more than she could bear herself.
"But I left him there, with that crazy guy."
"You're just a kid, Katie," and Jo knew kids better than anyone. She had coaxed, cajoled, threatened, and even locked them up when she needed to. She used whatever was necessary to get them to turn their lives around.
"There wasn't anything you could do to change what happened. I'm glad Rick had you for a friend, though. He probably liked you as much as you liked him. His time was up, I guess, plus it didn't help that he was on meth. It probably made him a lot more vulnerable in the situation." She let that sink in.
"I can see you're a survivor, though, and you've still got a long time to get it right. Promise me you'll try."
The girl nodded through her tears.
CHAPTER 41
Jo was true to her word, and she and Zoey finished their vacation out at Sandy and Ree's guest cabin in Big Noise. Jo lounged around the cabin while Zoey tended to her, read novels, and fine-tuned her next semester's lessons. On the last evening of the vacation, they celebrated with a poker party that included Kathy and Donna coming up for the night.
Donna, Zoey's good friend and co-researcher, asked her about how she was dealing with Don's suicide.
Zoey answered her honestly, "I'm struggling with it. I keep replaying it in my head." She tapped an index finger up against her temple.
"You did the best you could. You saved Jo."
"Intellectually, I know all this. I mean, when people want to kill themselves, realistically there isn't much you can do to stop them. This was just so intimate, you know. It's definitely impacting me."
Jo reached over with her good hand and took Zoey's hand.
"What further complicates this is that I have conflicting feelings about it. This guy killed a man Jo was close to. In a vile and disgusting way. Then I tried to talk him out of hurting himself. How can I be sure I was sincere in my effort?" she shook her head.
"I have an idea about how I might be able to get some closure, though. I know myself. If I don't do something, I'll keep thinking about this."
"What is it you need to do?" Jo was still holding onto Zoey's hand.
She looked around at the group, and everyone there was listening carefully. Zoey felt the warmth of their friendship as they all waited for her reply.
"I need to go back there. Back to the scene of the shooting. Do you know someone with a snowmobile? Someone who can take me in there?" She looked around the group hopefully.
Ree spoke up, "You remember Sherry? The poet? We jumped her car." Zoey and Jo nodded.
"She actually has a couple of them. You never know how well they might be running, but we can definitely check. I bet I can round up a few for us to use. Let's do it tomorrow. I'll start making calls."
She looked around to see who was interested.
"We're in," Donna spoke for both herself and Kathy.
"Definitely," Sandy chimed in.
CHAPTER 42
They pulled up to the bunker at 10:15 the following morning on three borrowed snowmobiles and one sled. Zoey had called Jean to see if she was also interested in looking for closure by going to the scene. Jean met them at G's, and they all followed the trail into the bunker. They had to go especially slow, as Jo's arm was still quite painful. The crime scene unit as well as a coroner and several other official teams had made their way into the land where the bunker was located by snowmobile, so the track was easy to follow.
They pulled up and turned off the machines. Zoey and Jean stood silently staring at the structure before beginning to walk toward it. Jo had begun to walk with Zoey, but Zoey turned to her and said, "Please… can I do this alone first?"
Jo nodded and touched Zoey's face. "I'll be right out here."
Jean had already walked into the bunker, and Zoey waited a couple of more minutes before walking in herself. She was struck by how peaceful the structure seemed. The last thing she had seen here was Don's head exploding from the gunshot. The sound of the shot rang over and over in her head, concluding each round of their final conversation.
She walked into and out of each room, repeating the same ritual of standing and taking in the smells and details. She then walked down into the basement room. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. The crime scene technicians had cleaned up any sign of remains, but the smell of decomposition lingered in the small space.
She did a silent prayer for the life lost in this tiny space before walking back up into the main cabin structure. She found Jean sitting at the kitchen table. Zoey walked over to where Don had taken his life. She replayed their conversation one more time in her head. Just before he pulled the trigger, she remembered a peaceful expression washing over him. She closed her eyes and willed herself to make that her last memory of the event.
When she opened her eyes, Jean was taking out a piece of paper and flattening it onto the table. "I wrote something." She nodded toward the piece of paper. "I'd like to read it."
"Do you want the others?" Zoey asked.
"Yeah. OK. That would be all right."
Zoey walked up the stairs and motioned for the group to join them before descending back into the bunker. Once everyone had found a place to stand, Jean began reading.
Sleep, My Lost Love
I wrap you in a quilt called
forgiveness
Sewn from fragments of our early life,
cut, patched, and made whole again.
Tender moments under cover
The sharing of pain buried deep
We thought the demons were safely shrouded —
A father's son had been released.
I wrap you in a quilt called love
that now lies chastened and quiet
restful and redeemed
for the long night.
CHAPTER 43
Jo and Zoey spent the final weekend before Zoey was scheduled to return to work at Jo's house. Jo wouldn't make her scheduled return until later, after being liberated from the soft cast that went from her shoulder to her wrist. She would need to spend another week lying low before beginning physical therapy.
Sunday evening, they sat on the floor in front of the fireplace drinking decaffeinated coffee and munching from a bowl of popcorn.
Jo turned to Zoey. She hesitated before speaking.
"Maybe you can help me with something. I'm still struggling with what happened out there. It's all jumbled up in my head. Bu
t mostly I'm angry with Don. I'm so angry I can't see straight. I can't properly grieve for Rick because of my anger."
"Tell me what goes through your mind. What are your most persistent thoughts?"
"I'm so angry with him for killing Rick. I know Don's already dead, but if I could, I'd like to kill him myself. I'm even angry with you for trying to help him."
"You're angry with me?"
"Not all the time. I mean, of course you had to try to help him. He was sick."
Zoey hesitated and chose her words carefully. "Sometimes the things we react strongest to are things we don't like in ourselves."
"You think I'm like Don?" Jo didn't hide her shock. She looked like she was ready to jump up and bolt from the room.
"No, it's what you think that could be key here. Do you see yourself as someone who is chosen to save the world?"
Jo didn't hesitate when she answered, "Sometimes. But so do you. I think we're both like Don in that way."
"What?" Zoey could feel herself getting defensive.
"We both have savior complexes. We shouldn't have risked our lives for either Rick or Don. I took chances, but you did, too. And you do, every time you deal with a violent, mentally ill person. Even after Don shot me, you wanted to save him."
"I'm a psychologist. It's what I do."
"Yes, and I'm someone who helps kids. They're not just hoodlums or criminals to me. They need me, and sometimes, trouble happens. You're a psychologist. But you're a human being, too. And you could be hurt by one of your psychotic clients or students as easily as I could be hurt on the streets. You take chances for others. We just handle it differently."
"Way differently," Zoey said.
Jo kept trying, "I have always known I'm driven to help others. I think you are, too. I've never loved anyone the way I love you. I understood what you were saying when you said you didn't know if you could take worrying about me because of my job. It's not my job. It's me. And it's you. I felt that out there. It pissed me off that you had to help him. I wanted to kill him. It pissed me off more that you risked your life to try to save him."
Jo slouched, as if from the weight of this knowledge. "How do we live with knowing that we would both risk everything to help people?"
Zoey was impressed. Jo had worked it all out right in front of her. She felt herself relax. Jo was right. There was no way they could always protect each other from the trait they both shared.
"Maybe that's why we fell in love?"
"Being in love is a risk. Living is a risk. We have to learn to deal with our compulsion to help, too." Jo seemed to be gaining a sense of clarity.
"We could try to limit it to things we can actually impact. And if there's something we can't do alone, maybe we can do it together."
"Who's crazier? Don or us?"
"Are you asking the psychologist, or the human?"
"I'm not really asking."
Zoey looked into Jo's eyes and saw herself. She knew that Jo was doing the same thing.
"We are in this together, aren't we?" Jo asked, her anger having completely vanished.
"I think it might have been easier thinking it was all you," Zoey said tentatively.
"Well, it's a position we can always fall back on."
About the Author
Jen Wright lives with her partner and two dogs in Clover Valley, Minnesota, bordering Lake Superior's north shore. Many of her stories arise from her real-life professional experiences working in a corrections agency and supervising Juvenile Probation and Drug Court. She and her staff help young people and adults to reclaim their lives. Unlike Jo, her protagonist in Killer Storm and Big Noise, Jen drinks mostly decaffeinated coffee.
Clover Valley Press, LLC, specializes in producing quality books written by women of the northland.
For author guidelines or to purchase copies of our books, go to www.clovervalleypress.com.
Table of Contents
Big Noise
Prologue
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
About the Author