She opened the car door, and JFK jumped into the passenger seat and refused to move. She shoved him into the back, where he stretched out on his side and yawned.
I started the engine but didn’t pull out. We sat there smoking while the rain throbbed across the windshield.
“Was Mother watching too?” Dale asked.
“Yes.”
“She always comes and sits in back. She doesn’t realize how much we can see from the stage.”
“She thinks she’ll embarrass you.”
“She does.”
“Really?” I said. “You don’t look embarrassed.”
Dale finished her cigarette and crushed it out in the ashtray. She turned slightly in her seat so she could give me the full effect of her glare.
“What is this?” she asked.
“I’m showing concern.”
“For what?”
“For you.”
“I got that much. I mean, concern over what?”
I hadn’t expected her to be so resistant. I should have. She was a teenager, and for the second time in two days I’d come from out of the shadows to pull her from her own crowd. It was stupid but I still wasn’t sure how else I could’ve done it.
It was a rough hand and I didn’t know how to play it. Should I soft-soap my worries over Butch or ask her flat out if she knew he was a punk working for Danny Thompson who might be a little too eager to step up?
I put the wipers on intermittent and watched the front doors of the school where I’d pretended to be a part of a society when I was actually an outlaw. I’d never believed I would need to get a joe job. I’d always expected to be able to boost and score and burgle my way through life. I’d fail a test and some teacher would threaten me with calling my parents, and I’d always think, Look at the scars on my chest, my old man made me this way. I’d feel a great love and a bewildering resentment for my father. I wondered if Dale felt the same way about him. And me.
She sat with her backpack on her lap. I had the sudden urge to yank it away from her and go through it. I had my nose in everybody’s business. I didn’t want to steal anything, I just wanted to pry and sate my curiosity.
She said, “I told you last night, Terry, I don’t like you following me.”
“Jesus Christ, I’m not following you, Dale. But I didn’t think I’d need to make an appointment with your social secretary either.”
“I have a life, you know.”
“I know. I have no idea what it includes, but I know you have one.”
“If you’re interested, I’ll tell you all about it.”
I cracked my window and tapped cigarette ash outside. The smoke made JFK sneeze so hard he nearly rolled off the backseat. “I am interested. Of course I am.”
“Stop playing coy, Terry. You’re not here to take me out to the malt shop for a sundae. And you didn’t come just to chat or to ask me how much homework I have.”
She was laying it on the line. I had to do the same.
“Tell me more about Butch.”
“You don’t like him.”
“I didn’t say that.”
An angry grin crimped her mouth. It was so abhorrent that I wanted to slap it off her face. “You didn’t have to. You don’t like him and Mom and Dad don’t like him and the three of you are just buzzing around like wasps, aren’t you?”
“No, I don’t think that’s what we’re doing.”
“He’s my boyfriend. Isn’t that enough for you?”
“No,” I said. I tried to remember the days when I’d drive her to the ice cream parlor and everything made her eyes brighten. “Where’d you two meet?”
“At the lake.”
I waited for more. There wasn’t any.
“You know he’s too old for you.”
“Your opinion, Terry.”
“And the law’s. He could go up for seven on statutory-rape charges.”
She tossed the backpack on the floor, put her feet on the dashboard, and crossed her ankles. “You worried about the law all of a sudden?”
“Not really. Are you being contrary for a reason?”
She turned her face away, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. We Rands, we could work one another’s nerves without even making an effort. “What did you do for those five years you were gone?”
“Worked on ranches, mostly.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Why?”
“Yes, why? Did you like it? Is it something you always wanted to do?”
We were getting to places I didn’t want to be. “I didn’t mind it. And yeah, I thought about doing it before I wound up broke with a busted-down car on a road where the exits were thirty miles apart. But I didn’t know what it would really be like.”
She sounded genuinely interested. I wondered if she was just trying to find a way to hurt me. “So why didn’t you get another job?”
“Because I was only killing time. I knew the call would come one day, I guess. I didn’t know you’d be making it, but I knew it would come. And I knew I’d have to sit across from Collie and finally ask him the questions I wanted to know the answers to.”
“Did you get them?”
“No. He’s contrary too.”
“I’m not being contrary. I just don’t know what to tell you.” She swung her legs down and planted her feet on the car mat again. “Start the car, let’s go already.”
I checked the rearview and spotted the security guy coming over to brace me and get me off school property. I threw the car in gear and headed back toward Old Autauk Road.
Dale was smart and mature and was running at least a small game on me, but I just couldn’t manage to come out and ask her if she knew Butch was planning a heist. Or if she was involved in any way. I felt sick with myself for even thinking such a thing, but that didn’t mean I was wrong.
“Why didn’t you give Blanche a southern accent?”
“And be like everyone else? I was trying something new.”
“It worked. You nailed it.”
“Thank you. So you’ve complimented me, now comes the changeup when you ask me something you really want to know. So go on.”
I wanted to know it all but I would never be able to convince her of that. Again that cruel smile played on her lips.
“Have you ever tried to visit Collie?” I asked.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Why would I want to? You didn’t see him until I called you.”
I didn’t want to dig too deeply, but I thought the only way I’d ever learn anything about her, really understand her once again, was to discuss Collie. It tied us together and touched us in a way that it wouldn’t touch anyone else. Collie was our older brother, and there was something exclusive in that.
“I don’t feel the same way you do,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
She used an index finger to draw a smiley face in the condensation of the passenger window. When she was done she wiped it away with her palm. “I didn’t know him as well as you did. He wasn’t … He didn’t treat me like you did. He didn’t read to me. He wasn’t interested in me. He was out doing whatever he was doing. We had no real relationship.”
“Dale, I know he was a prick, but still, he—”
“If you say that he loved me, I’m going to yank the wheel and crash us.”
Maybe that was what I was going to say. Maybe Collie had loved her and simply hadn’t known how to show it. Maybe he hadn’t given a damn. He could’ve started slipping into the underneath years before he went mad dog. I seemed to remember him being around, taking her out for ice cream, buying her presents, hugging her and teasing her the way older brothers do. Maybe she just didn’t remember, or maybe I was making too much of it.
“I wasn’t going to say that,” I said.
“Ask me what you really want to know.”
“I’m not sure what I want to know.”
“Yes, you are. You want to know if he replaced you at all.
If in the last five years I visited him, wrote to him, phoned him. If I cared about him more than I cared about you.” From second to second, emotions played havoc inside her, maybe the way they did inside all of us Rands. She moved from anger and insecurity to a need for proving herself self-reliant. “The answer is no, Terry. You were both gone. I felt the same way about you both. I didn’t think about either of you much. I couldn’t. You each deserted the family. I cared more about Gramp, right? At least he was there.”
It hurt hearing the truth. This was why Rands didn’t talk. Despite our stoniness, we were a sensitive, fickle bunch. I kept glancing at her. I kept wondering if there was any way to fix our relationship and if I even had the mettle to make the effort.
I said, “Dale, if you’re ever in trouble, you don’t have to face it alone.”
She frowned at me, cocked her head like she hadn’t heard right. “What?”
“You can talk to me. Really. I want you to.”
It was the same offer that Mal had made to me.
“Terry, since you’ve been back we’ve hardly had what you might call a deep conversation.”
“I’m trying to fix that right now. You can still talk to me. You’re not alone. I’ll help you. Whatever it is, I’ll help you, if you’re ever in trouble.”
Her expression shifted a few more times, from perplexity to annoyance to something else I couldn’t place. “Are you talking about … pregnancy?”
“Ah, no, not specifically, I mean—”
“Oh, God.” She threw up her hands. Her nails snapped against the dome light, and JFK perked up like he’d heard a gunshot. “Is this your way of saying that you’ll, what, help me get an abortion?”
“No, no, not exactly.”
“Not exactly?”
I couldn’t find the right words. I couldn’t hold on to any particular thread of discussion. A pulse beat painfully in my belly. “I just mean … well, anything. Any problems. Anything you need help with. Ever. Whether it’s with Butch or anyone else.”
“You’re fixated on Butch.”
“I’m not fixated on Butch.”
The rain came down harder now and splashed inside, but I liked the air and she must’ve too, because we left our windows open a crack.
“Do you want me to take you home or drop you off at your friend’s? Or somewhere else?”
My sister gave me a long hard look. I let her do it. It went on for a while. I knew she didn’t trust me. There was no way that she could after what I’d done. But she was trying to find common ground. She was at least willing to make an effort to forgive me.
She abruptly relaxed and asked, “Are you going back out west?”
I hadn’t thought about it much. Now I did. “No.”
“You’re not leaving again?”
“No.”
A scoffing sound eased up her throat. “Why?”
I thought of something we’d discussed at the lake. “This time I’m staying the course.”
She laughed as if I’d just done something cute, reached out, and pressed her hand to my cheek. “My big brother, trying to make up for lost time. Okay. Okay, thanks. It’s nice to know you’ll be around in case I ever need you.”
“I have a question,” I said.
“Of course you do.”
“Why was it you who phoned me at the ranch?”
“No one else wanted to do it. They were all afraid you’d be mad at them, or worse, that you wouldn’t come home.”
“Why didn’t you tell me it was you?”
“I wanted to see if you’d know.”
I tried to read her eyes. I sensed that she was a lot more worldly than she was letting on, but that didn’t have to mean a damn thing.
She said, “You weren’t just killing time. It wasn’t just Collie. It had something to do with Kimmy too, didn’t it? It had to. Why you left?”
“Yeah. She had a miscarriage.”
Dale turned on me, waited a three count, then got up close. She jabbed me in the chest with a finger. It hurt.
“You … you … are a serious asshole! That just means she needed you even more!”
“I know.”
“You abandoned her. You … you—”
“I know.”
“But why?”
Her voice hit that same plaintive whine that mine had reached when I’d asked my brother the same question. I thought I might have an answer, but it wasn’t a good one. And it might not even be the whole truth, but there didn’t seem to be any great truth to it anyway. I missed a child that had never taken a breath. I saw her as clearly now as I had then, laid out and bleeding as if she’d been struck by a car because we hadn’t been watching closely enough. I blamed myself, and I suppose I somehow blamed Kimmy as well. The tragedy had seemed greater in her presence. Her sobs had served to remind me that I couldn’t protect my girls. My failures were forever on display. I was proven a liar. My love for her overwhelmed me until I thought I’d choke. I’d always believed I wanted to die in her arms, and holding her to me I was certain I would. But it wasn’t possible to explain that to anyone.
Dale said, “And now you’re telling me I can trust you?”
“You probably won’t, not for a while. But yes, Dale, you can trust me.”
She grunted like she didn’t believe a word I might ever say. I wouldn’t believe me either. I thought the ride might help to calm things down. I was wrong again. I took us out to Ocean Parkway. She didn’t argue and say she was busy. She put her feet up on the dash the way that Kimmy used to do, and she let me open up the throttle and kick it up to triple digits in the rain. I knew she was a speed demon like Butch was. I could imagine her urging him on faster as he tore past the sand-strewn beach roads. It was a rite of passage. JFK hung his head out the window, and the rain spattered his thick old face and he panted into the wind. Occasionally he let out a bark. I wanted to do the same. We crossed the causeway and watched the bay thrash below us. It was primal and calming. It spoke to something inside both of us. I could see her readying herself to say something more. I wondered if she was going to admit to working with Butch or being closer with Danny Thompson’s crew than I ever hoped she’d be. I spun through the traffic circle at the far end and drove back across the bridge much slower and more composed. Dale bummed another cigarette off me. She used a chamois cloth on the floor in back to wipe JFK’s fur down. I waited for her to spill. I headed toward home and she turned her head twice in quick succession like she wanted to get a good look at me, maybe check my eyes, before saying the next thing she had to say.
“Okay, so tell me,” I said.
She twisted a lock of her hair and drew it over her ear. “There is something, I think. I’m not sure.”
I asked, “What?”
“I think someone’s been following me, but I could be wrong. It’s just a feeling.”
“Cops?”
“They’re easy to spot. No. Someone else. Maybe because of Collie.”
“Reporters?”
“I don’t know.”
“When did this start?”
“I’m not certain. Nothing I can put a finger on. It feels like it’s been there for a while but I can’t pinpoint an exact time, you know? It’s just been at the back of my mind and now it’s sort of moved to the front.”
“Someone angry at Collie who wants to take it out on his family? That kind of feeling?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You ever see anyone?”
“No.”
“When’s it happen? At home?”
“Yes, when I’m coming home or leaving for school. And at other times. When I’m shopping at the mall with friends. I get a sense that someone is watching.”
“Could it be someone from Danny Thompson’s crew?”
She froze up for a moment, then seemed to slowly regain the power of movement as she nodded. “So you know about that. About Butch working for Danny.”
“Yes,” I said.
She nearly spit her words. “Of c
ourse you do. It’s just small-time stuff.”
“I heard. Has he had a falling-out with Danny?”
“No. Maybe. I’m not sure. He’s … he’s involved with something new. A job. I think Danny might be pressuring him for details. Or for money up front.”
Dale spoke like she couldn’t believe the truth of what she was saying, as if she was having déjà vu and hoping for some different outcome this time.
“And you’re worried that he might be using you as leverage against Butch?” I asked.
“You tell me. You know that prick better than I do.”
“I don’t know him that well anymore.”
She didn’t say she thought it might be nothing. She didn’t say it might just be all in her head and she might just be acting paranoid. She knew enough to trust herself, to be wary and on her toes. It was a part of being born into this bent life of ours.
“You ever spot a black Mercedes tagging around you?” I asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Keep an eye out for it. Do you carry any kind of weapon, Dale?”
“What, like a gun or a knife?”
“Like pepper spray?”
“No.”
We drove through neighborhood streets that had flooded. Trash spiraled in the gutters, the sewer grates boiling up like there were sharks under the water.
“I’ll get you something,” I said. “Maybe Mace.”
“They don’t sell Mace anymore.”
“I might be able to get it. You carry it with you everywhere you go from now on.”
“I want a knife,” she said.
She laid it out flat and I wondered if she’d been lying to me. She might just want a knife because she was hooked up with Butch and his crew and she knew that if anything ever went down wrong she’d be able to play sweet and get up close and stick the blade in. At least she thought she could.
I felt my neck flush and straightened my collar to hide it. My Christ, what the hell was going on with this family?
“Maybe I’ll get you a knife too,” I said. “Something small. But you aim for the eyes and throat and it’ll be effective. You feel like someone is following you again, you call me, wherever you are, day or night, you let me know. If anyone tries to grab you, you douse his eyes or you stab him in the face. Do you understand?”
The Last Kind Words: A Novel Page 15