Jewelweed

by David Rhodes

  For some unknown reason an old song flared up in her memory, and for another unknown reason she started humming it, though this was something she rarely did. At first her humming burbled along in a shaky, unsure manner, but after a short time it grew thicker, steadier, and more satisfying. Then it assumed a life of its own, a loop in the corner of her mind, and she could entertain thoughts and memories while the hummed song continued all by itself.

  She remembered how her sister used to hum to herself, especially when she walked for any distance. They would be walking along a sidewalk or through a field and Esther would be murmuring like a tuned engine. Dart never could recognize the songs, and she never asked, respecting the privacy that seemed to accompany the habit. Esther’s humming had always comforted Dart, perhaps because she imagined it comforted Esther.

  Suddenly Dart realized she was crying. Tears moved down her cheeks and onto the backs of her hands and the countertop in warm, wet splotches. She stopped humming, wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and burned her tongue with a long swallow of hot coffee. The forces she’d put in charge of her personality simply did not allow weeping, and she was more than a little frightened that such unlawfulness could be going on inside her. Her security system had broken down. What was wrong with her?

  She found Amy in the basement, refinishing an old sideboard with a leaded glass front.

  “Can I have the rest of the day off?” she asked.

  “Why?” asked Amy, scrubbing the wood with a wad of steel wool.

  “I want to visit my sister’s grave and do some other things I’ve been neglecting.”

  “Would you like some company?”

  “No, thank you. I need to do this myself.”

  “Don’t forget that Buck and I—”

  “I know,” interrupted Dart. “You’re going backpacking for a couple days. That’s no problem. We can handle everything. No need to worry. Ivan’s going to visit August, and Kevin’s been feeling as well as I can remember. And Flo, well, you know, she’s never any problem.”

  “Are you sure? It seems a little reckless. Buck’s in the middle of things at the construction site, and I can’t imagine how long it’s been since we—”

  “I told you, Amy, it’s not a problem. You need to go. Everything will be fine here. You can both leave in the morning and there is no need to worry about anything.”

  “I hope it will be all right,” said Amy. “I’d never forgive myself if something went wrong. In any case, take the rest of the day off. I’ll feed everyone lunch.”

  “There’s soup on the stove and sandwiches in the refrigerator,” said Dart, “and there’s lettuce and sliced tomatoes to add to the sandwiches. The crackers Kevin always wants with his soup are in the pantry, to the back, and the—”

  “Thanks, Dart. I’ll manage.”

  Several miles outside Red Plain, Dart pulled off the road in front of a small cemetery that was set off from a cornfield by a short wire fence with a gate in front. Dart walked over and sat down by her sister’s grave. A hot wind blew down the valley and the wide corn leaves rasped against each other, making it seem even hotter. It had been several weeks since the cemetery was mowed, and many of the grass tops had seeded out.

  After lingering for over an hour, Dart took off her homemade leather-and-bead necklace and placed it on top of the flat stone, circling the name.

  “If someone takes it,” she explained, “they’ll remember your name. I had a nicer one for you, but it didn’t work out.”

  Dart closed the rusty gate on the front of the cemetery and drove to Words, where she parked and stared out of her windshield at the repair shop. Then she drove to Winnie and Jacob’s log house, and found Winnie’s little yellow car parked in front. She walked around it and continued to the edge of the garden. At first she didn’t see Winnie sitting on one of the painted benches, staring into a patch of red bergamot. Then she did, and hurried over toward her.

  “Dart,” said Winnie, standing up and smoothing her skirt over her hips, as if she’d just stepped off a train after a long journey. Around her grew hundreds of plants, arranged to express something that could not be expressed any other way.

  “I need to talk to you,” said Dart.

  “Good. I was wanting to talk with someone.”

  “Am I interrupting something?”

  “Definitely not.”

  “What were you doing?”

  “I was just trying to find a better way to pray.”

  “A better way?”

  “Much of the time all I really want to do is pray, and it seems important to find the best way.”

  Dart laughed a short, loud, two-note laugh, then stepped forward and hugged Winnie. “I simply love how odd you are, Pastor Winifred,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to tell you that.”

  “Call me Winnie,” she said, looking at Dart with some apprehension.

  “Now, I need you to tell me about Blake,” said Dart.

  “What about him?”

  “I need to know about his drug problem.”

  “Neither Jacob nor I have seen any sign of it.”

  “Maybe you’re not looking.”

  “That might be true, but we haven’t seen any sign of it. And I’m pretty sure Jacob has been paying attention. He’s a lot more suspicious that way.”

  “Drugs are why Blake was in prison.”

  “I know,” said Winnie.

  “He was tried and convicted.”

  “Actually, he pled guilty right away—never said anything but that one word at his hearing. I know because Jacob wanted to see his case file before he’d let him work at the shop. He wanted to be sure there weren’t any more serious charges against him. Blake was sentenced for carrying over two pounds of brown heroin—that’s what the file said—and with resisting arrest and assaulting an officer of the law.”

  “Assault,” repeated Dart.

  “That’s what the file said.”

  “Where did they catch him?”

  “Somewhere in Milwaukee. Blake said there was a guy in the foundry who would pay three hundred dollars for every delivery made to Milwaukee. Apparently he did it three times and never knew what was in the packages. Then the guy who was paying him turned him in, set him up. Why do you want to know this?”

  “Because I don’t think I can stay away from him much longer.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Not that long ago I spent the night with someone, slept with him. He didn’t mean anything to me, and it wasn’t a good experience at all. It was awful, in fact, and it made me think that maybe I’m all used up. Maybe that part of my life is ruined for good.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re saying,” said Winnie.

  They sat down on the bench, and Dart continued. “There was a very short time when I felt good about myself, and the guy who made me feel like that was Blake Bookchester. The ways he was weak, I was strong. Blake knew it and I knew it and though we always had a lot of problems on account of him being so quick to act and not thinking about the consequences of anything he did, whenever I was with him I didn’t feel alone. And with all the other men I’ve known in my life, I always felt alone. But it wasn’t that way with Blake. Sure, I was mad at him most of time, but I never felt alone with him, never, and now I can feel myself slipping, going back to him in my mind, and before long I’ll go see him. I’m going to do it, I know I will—drugs or no drugs. And I need you to tell me something to keep me from doing it, because I keep forgetting that a person like that can never be trusted. When he came over a while back I thought it would be different. He was in prison so long, and I thought it would be different. But it wasn’t. That thing inside me lit up again, and when it does it makes me need something I don’t have so much I can hardly stand it.”

  “Dart, I’m still not sure exactly what you’re saying, but you would never act solely on a raw physical urge, would you?”

  “Of course I would.”

  “We’re not biological brutes, Dart. We can mak
e informed choices about how to conduct ourselves. Our destiny is in our own hands.”

  “Excuse me for saying this, Pastor, but that’s just stupid. Things build up. I see what other people have and I want those things too. I want to be full of someone else, and have them full of me. I want him back.”

  “Go talk to Jacob. He knows more about the trouble Blake got himself into.”

  “You can’t send me over there. Blake works in the shop.”

  “He’s not there now. I took a lunch over about an hour ago, and Blake and August weren’t there. Jacob said they’d gone to Blake’s father’s house to water plants, mow the yard, and see if they could stop the toilet from leaking before Nate and his cousin return from Slippery Slopes. He took August along to help him.”

  “I’ll be going then, thanks,” said Dart.

  “Are you bringing Ivan over in the morning?”

  “If it’s still all right. Amy and Buck are going away for a few days, and it would make everything easier.”

  “We’re always glad to have Ivan over.”

  “Thank you, Pastor Winifred.” And with that Dart turned and left.

  At the Words Repair Shop, she hesitated for a moment before getting out of the Bronco, walking through the five men clustered in the shade of the yard, and going inside.

  “Hello, Dart,” said Jacob, looking up from the bench.

  “Hi,” she said. “Your wife sent me over here.”

  “Good for her. What can I do for you?”

  “I need to know some things that are no one else’s business.”

  Jacob wiped the grease off his hands and went outside with her. Together they walked down the road.

  “I need to know if Blake’s got a habit.”

  “Not that I can tell,” said Jacob. “He’s completely unpredictable, no habits at all. In fact, if you don’t keep him focused, he’ll wander off.”

  “That’s not what I mean. I mean drugs—dealing drugs, taking drugs, sticking needles, popping pills, snorting, shooting it under his toenails, rubbing it in his gums.”

  “He passes all the drug tests they give him, and they spring them on him all the time.”

  “Then maybe he’s just dealing.”

  “Not that I can tell.”

  “Do people come in, look out of the corners of their eyes, stay for a short while, and leave?”

  “There are a lot of people who do that. This is a small town. But I know what you mean, and no, I haven’t seen anything like what you’re talking about.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “He went over to his father’s house to take care of things while Nate is away. We’re kind of slow this afternoon, so I told him to take August with him. Also, there’s a man from the government coming over in a little while, and I thought it would be better if Blake and August weren’t here.”

  “What’s he coming for?”

  “I’ve applied for a small-business loan. We need more room.”

  “Well, thanks for talking to me. And could you please not tell him I was here?”

  “Sure,” replied Jacob.

  Driving a Picture from the Past into the Future

  Buck and Amy left early the following morning for the North Woods, leaving some confusion about who was in charge. Dart and the nurse argued about whether Kevin should ride along when she drove Ivan to August’s. The nurse said he couldn’t go, but Dart brought him anyway, after his blood pressure, pulse, and temperature were recorded in the notebook.

  When they pulled up by the log house, August came outside. He told Dart how good it was to see her again and thanked her for bringing Ivan. She walked past him dismissively and went inside.

  August hurried over to Kevin and Ivan and started waving his hands excidedly as he talked. He said that the day before, he and Blake had gone over to Blake’s father’s place to mow the yard and do some other chores. While taking a break for a glass of water inside the house, Blake played back the messages left on his father’s answering machine. Most of them were from tired women with nervous voices trying to sell stuff. Blake erased them one by one. But the last message was from the trucking company. The male voice said Blake’s father was to take a load to a town called Wormwood, in Iowa. All the other drivers were busy; it needed to be done right away, and he was supposed to call back as soon as possible.

  After hearing the message, August said Blake had paced around the kitchen and living room. Then he’d called the trucking company and told them his father, Nate, would take the job. The trucking company told Blake that someone would bring the loaded trailer over the following evening and drop it off. All the papers were signed and ready. The brown wrapping paper and plastic cling were to be delivered to the packing plant in Wormwood by eleven o’clock at night.

  Then August asked Blake how his father was supposed to get the message from his answering machine if he wasn’t there to listen to it. Blake showed him. “Just dial the number,” he told August, handing him his father’s phone. August dialed Nate’s number and when the answering machine picked up Blake told him to punch in the number two, followed by seven. “You have one message,” the machine said. Then Blake told him to punch the number five. When he did that the machine played back the message from the trucking company, and August could hear it through the phone. “See,” Blake told him. “When Dad calls home, he’ll get the machine to play back the message. That way he’ll know.”

  “Everybody knows how answering machines work,” said Kevin. “What’s the big deal?”

  “I’m trying to tell you something important,” said August. “I don’t think Blake’s father is ever going to hear that message. I think Blake is going to take that load to Iowa himself, and if he gets caught he’ll be in serious trouble, because that’s a violation of the conditions of his release.”

  “Why can’t he leave the state?” asked Kevin.

  August and Ivan tried to think of a reason.

  “Well, each state is different,” said Ivan.

  “Ivan’s right,” added August. “And some things that are against the law in one state are legal in other states, like buying fireworks.”

  “Other states probably have the death penalty for carrying drugs,” added Ivan.

  “The death penalty?” scoffed Kevin.

  “He’s already served his time for that,” said August.

  “Sure,” Ivan said, “but that might not mean anything in other states. They might just be waiting for him to come into their territory so they can electrocute him.”

  “Surely not,” said Kevin, but Ivan could tell that neither he nor August was sure.

  “I’m going with him,” said Ivan.

  “How are you going to do that?” scoffed Kevin.

  “I don’t know how, but like I’ve told both of you, I think Blake Bookchester is my dad, and I’ll find a way to go with him. He might need me.”

  “That’s crazy,” said August.

  “You don’t even know for sure that he is your dad,” said Kevin.

  “I’m pretty sure.”

  “Did you ask your mom again?” asked August.

  “Mother and I aren’t getting along too good right now, and anyway she has always said that my father is dead.”

  “And you don’t believe her?”

  “I just think she needs to tell me that for some reason.”

  “So you can’t ask her again?”

  “Not right now, but if we could get inside Blake’s house and look around, I’m sure there’s something that would tell.”

  “You might be right,” replied August. He was quiet for a while, and then he added, “We can do that tonight if you want. After Blake leaves to drive his father’s truck down to Iowa, it would be easy to get into his house. It’s only a mile, or less, out of Words. We can ride over on our bicycles. I have one for you to ride.”

  “Are you two completely nuts?” asked Kevin. “You can’t break into someone’s house.”

  “Yes we can,” said Ivan. “I’ll bet he
doesn’t even lock it.”

  “That doesn’t make any difference. There could be other ex-cons staying there, hiding from the law. There could be two or three of them, with knives, guns, and sexually transmitted diseases.”

  “You’re just imagining things,” said Ivan.

  “Maybe, but a lot of the things I imagine end up being real.”

  “My dad would know if there were other people living with Blake,” said August.

  “Sure, but he might not tell you,” said Kevin. “Listen, I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.”

  “Maybe he’s right,” said August to Ivan.

  Then Dart came out of the house and walked toward them, frowning.

  “I’m not kidding,” said Kevin. “Stay away from there, promise me.”

  “I can’t do that,” said Ivan. “Some things are important enough to take risks.”

  “No,” said Kevin, but by then Dart was there and she drove away with him in the front seat, leaving Ivan and his suitcase standing next to August.

  The two boys watched the Bronco leave, then went inside the house and told Winnie they wanted to camp out overnight by the hermit’s hut. She had a thick book with fine print in her hand, and she looked up over the tops of her reading glasses and said that was way too far away. It was fine to camp out, she said, but it had to be close by. August said they wanted to see the hermit again, and look for the Wild Boy, but she just repeated that it was way too far away, making it clear this time that it was useless to argue.

  The boys put up the tent in the woods beyond her garden. After supper, they made a fire and let it burn down and unrolled their sleeping bags inside the tent. Then August said they were running out of time. They started playing back the tape on which they had recorded their conversation for the last couple of hours, so when August’s parents walked out to check they’d hear their voices inside the tent.

  August’s bikes were in the garage next to the house, and they got them without being seen. It was hot and the ride took longer than August had planned for, but they got to the road in front of Blake’s farmhouse just before dark. Ivan looked through the binoculars August had brought. He could see the motorcycle parked in front of the house.