House on the Forgotten Coast

by Ruth Coe Chambers

  “Hello, dear, can I help you?”

  Elise was struck by the kind, gentle voice that conveyed concern, so genuinely interested in helping her. She was a small woman but plump. Everything about her was rounded and soft as a biscuit. Elise didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t know what she wanted. The only thing she knew at that moment was that she didn’t want to leave. The woman smiled. “Don’t be afraid. He won’t hurt you.”

  Won’t hurt me? What a strange thing to say. She didn’t want to stop looking at him ever but forced herself to turn toward the woman, all soft and faded, who had by now walked onto the porch.

  “Are you lost, honey? We don’t often see people walking this far out.”

  “No, ma’am. I’m not lost. We’re new here, and I like to explore the town. I was looking for an old cemetery.”

  “There’s no cemetery up here, honey. I thought for a minute you might be a social worker or something. Child, you’re white as a sheet. Have a seat and I’ll get you a glass of tea.”

  Elise’s knees were about to buckle as she staggered toward the swing and its handsome occupant. She dropped beside him but still he didn’t say anything. The nearness of him was a joy and a torment. It was as though she’d waited all her life for this moment. She took a deep breath. Pheromones. She hadn’t thought of pheromones since that day with Ronnie. She was sure she could feel all the molecules in her body shift. She had a nearly uncontrollable urge to place her hand on his thigh. Almost as though he knew what she was thinking, he moved away from her toward the far end of the swing.

  The woman returned with the tea and introduced herself as Mrs. Myers. “And your partner there, that’s my only boy. My only child. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

  Elise felt another chill that had nothing to do with the glass of iced tea she held. She turned and looked directly at him, hoping he’d speak. She stared into his eyes and smiled, assuming an amused expression herself. “Does he have a name?”

  She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t move or acknowledge that she’d spoken.

  Mrs. Myers laughed. “Course he does. We don’t often have company, and I forget. His name is Lawrence. When he was born I told his daddy I never wanted anybody calling him Larry or anything but Lawrence.”

  “Lawrence, really? That’s always been a favorite name of mine too!” She felt him pull even farther away.

  “I’m Elise, Elise Foster.” She offered him her hand, but he ignored her.

  Mrs. Myers turned a rocker to face the swing and sat down. “There was a problem years ago, and he doesn’t talk anymore.”

  “Not at all?”

  “I’m afraid not. Not even to me. My husband is dead, and it’s just the two of us. He’s good company despite it. I talk to him even if he don’t talk back. Does what I ask him to, and I’m never afraid with him here.”

  Elise stared at the floor, embarrassed, but unable not to ask, “But he did talk? Before the problem?”

  Drops of tea splashed on Elise’s shorts as Lawrence snatched the glass from her hand and took two large gulps. He shoved the glass back in her hand and bounded down the porch steps and out of sight around the side yard.

  “I’m sorry, honey. He’s got a lot of anger in him.”

  “No, ma’am, I’m sorry. We sit here talking about him as though he can’t hear us.” Elise turned the glass in her hand, slowly gliding the tip of her tongue over the place where his lips had been.

  Mrs. Myers twisted her apron nervously and several times seemed on the verge of saying something. Finally, “He talked until the accident. He was in the boat with his daddy—a floating log . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron.

  Worried that she was making Mrs. Myers uncomfortable, Elise said, “I really must be starting back. I think I’ve come a lot farther than I realized.” As she started toward the steps, she saw the cat.

  “Why, Mrs. Myers, I saw that cat at the inn where we stayed when we moved here.”

  “Not that cat, honey. It’s never far from Lawrence.”

  “Oh, but I’m sure. It’s an orange tabby just like the one I saw. It even has the same white star on its forehead.”

  “That’s a wonder all right, but this cat never leaves the yard. I’d know if she wasn’t here.”

  Elise continued down the steps, gripping the banister to steady her shaking legs. She looked toward the side yard where Lawrence had disappeared. “Mrs. Myers, may I come back and visit? I don’t know many people.” Please say yes. Please say I can come back. How can I stay away?

  Mrs. Myers looked puzzled but smiled kindly. “Why, child, I’d love to have you. We seldom have visitors. You’re welcome any time, any time at all.”

  So strong was the pull, it took a physical effort to move away from the house, but she turned and waved to Mrs. Myers. And there was Lawrence standing at the corner of the yard, the cat at his feet. Lawrence picked the cat up and stroked its fur, staring at Elise. He didn’t wave or smile.

  Elise walked home in a daze and went directly to her room. She clung to the new emotions that gripped her and could think of nothing but Lawrence Myers and her need to see him again. She spent a restless night and woke the next morning under a layer of frost that chilled the very marrow of her bones. So sure it was frost, she touched her arms and face for proof that wasn’t there. She put on a heavy robe and went to the kitchen where she sat huddled at the table. How long should I wait before going there again?

  Her parents came in from the sunroom and found her staring at the mug of coffee she clutched with both hands.

  “Elise, are you ill?”

  “No, ma’am, I don’t think so.”

  “Then why are you wearing that heavy robe in the dead of summer?”

  “I’m cold.”

  “Apparently.” Margaret went over and felt her forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever.”

  “I thought perhaps the thermostat was broken.”

  “No, the temperature seems fine to me. Doesn’t it to you, Edwin?”

  Edwin was getting a cup of coffee and didn’t turn around when he snapped, “Of course it’s fine. It damn well better be after what we paid for that heat pump.”

  Sweat beaded on Elise’s brow, and she threw off the robe. “I’m warm now.”

  The spoon clanged against Edwin’s cup as he turned to Elise and said, “We’re always grateful for small favors.”

  What’s gotten into him now? I’ve tried so hard to be the kind of daughter they want. Elise closed her eyes and the drone of her parents’ voices made her drowsy. Her reverie was broken when she heard her mother say, “Dallas.”

  “She’s a genteel woman, Edwin, and that’s nothing to take lightly considering she’s lived here all her life. She’s widowed and has agreed to lease some space to me. Thank God I won’t have to deal with that awful Peyton Roberts any more. Dallas’s husband ran the only hardware store in town, and since he died a little over a year ago, the building’s been empty. The inventory is gone, so we can just gut the place and be in business. Frankly, I think Dallas will sell eventually. Right now it’s like hanging onto her husband. She even offered to work in the store if we ever need extra help.”

  “If the business does as well as you think, we’ll need her for sure.”

  “Elise, you look a million miles away. Have you heard a word we’ve said?”

  “Sure. Yes, ma’am. I was just thinking about how busy y’all are going to be.”

  “Want to come help us out?” Margaret laughed. “Well, don’t go pale and faint on me. I was joking. No offense, but you’re such a dreamer, you’d just get in the way. Anyway, I’m thankful to be busy. Your father and I need this. It’s a good thing you enjoy exercise. You could go stir-crazy once you’re settled in a town this small. I know you’re being friendly to the people here, Elise. People have mentioned you and tell me what a polite girl you are. I appreciate that. It’ll be good for business.”

  Resentment rose like
bile. “That isn’t why I talk to them.”

  “Of course it isn’t, but it helps nonetheless.”

  After her parents left the house, Elise walked to town. She saw their Jaguar parked in front of one of the vacant stores and to avoid being seen, turned down the street that ran along the river before doubling back to Peyton Roberts’ shoe store.

  “Well, for goodness sake, look who’s here.”

  “Hello, Mr. Roberts.”

  “Don’t be like your mother, hon, call me Peyton. You need more sunglasses or you want Bobby to fix you up with some new shoes?”

  “Actually neither. I have another question. You’ve lived here a long time . . .”

  “All my life.”

  “I want to ask you about someone, a man named Lawrence Myers.”

  Peyton whistled. “You covered some territory if you got out to the Myers’ place. You must have thought you’d reached the end of the earth. I haven’t driven by there in years.”

  “I didn’t realize I’d walked so far. It was a long way, but it’s pretty, the house sitting so lonely on top of that hill.”

  “I’m surprised that old house is still standing. That was one sad story.”

  “The boat hitting a floating log?”

  “Yeah. That should never have happened. Hindsight has twenty-twenty vision. But how’d . . .” He stopped and looked toward the door.

  Elise turned to see Margaret.

  “I didn’t see you come this way, Elise.”

  “I wasn’t coming here,” Elise stammered nervously. “I was down by the river but then decided to look at some shoes. Mine are getting worn.”

  “I do believe, Elise, that shoes are in the back of the store.”

  Bobby appeared from nowhere. “I already tried several pairs on her, ma’am. She decided to wait until our next shipment comes in.”

  “I see.” Margaret looked at Peyton accusingly.

  Peyton’s eyes lingered a moment at her bust, just long enough for her to notice, and he asked, “Want Bobby to see if he can find a glass slipper to fit you,” he hesitated briefly and continued, “Margaret?”

  “Very funny. Actually I want some socks. I brought plenty of shoes with me from Atlanta. I hadn’t realized Apalach was so modern as to be able to support a shoe store.”

  “My, yes. People in Apalach been wearing shoes for years now.”

  As Margaret turned to snatch a pair of socks out of the case, Elise made a quick exit. “I’m off now. I’ll come back when that shoe order comes in.” She walked hurriedly to the corner and then hesitated briefly. She wanted to turn left toward the Myers’ but went in the opposite direction. Miss Nadine would talk her ear off and keep her mind off Lawrence Myers.

  When she didn’t see her on the porch, Elise walked up the steps and squinted to see through the screen door. She could just make out her form bent over a stack of papers. When Nadine saw Elise she ran to the door, still holding the red marking pencil. She pressed her face to the screen and appeared confused.

  “Who is it?” She pushed the door open. “Oh, Miss Gone with the Wind. I thought for a minute you were one of my former pupils. I never know when one of them will drop by. All these years and they still come to see me.” She tucked the red pencil into her hair and motioned to Elise to sit beside her in one of the porch rockers. “Your folks pretty well settled now?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll feel like a native soon.”

  “No you won’t. That takes years, years of living and loving and knowing everybody’s business!”

  Elise laughed.

  “Don’t you believe me?”

  “I believe you. I absolutely do.”

  “Have you ever thought of being a schoolteacher?”

  “No, ma’am, I don’t think I have.”

  “If you taught school you’d get to know everybody a lot more quickly—a whole lot more quickly. The parents will tell you everything about their children and believe me, the children are only too quick to tell you everything about the parents.” She laughed, throwing her head back, revealing her large, square teeth.

  “You really miss it, don’t you?”

  “Miss what?”

  “Why, teaching.”

  “Oh yes. I miss it. Every day of my life.”

  “I hope someday to find something I love that much.”

  “It can be a curse to love too much. A real curse.” She smoothed her skirt and took the red pencil from her hair, rolling it back and forth between her palms like a piece of clay. Elise wondered if she’d forgotten she was there when Nadine looked up and said, “You think you’re getting to know Apalach as well as you did Atlanta?”

  “Better, I think. I feel like I belong here, as though I’ve always belonged here.”

  “Ready to trade in Gone with the Wind, huh?”

  “Apalach feels like home.”

  The red pencil fell and rolled across the floor. Elise grabbed it before it rolled down the steps.

  “I’ve been grading papers.”

  “Grading papers? Are you doing some substitute teaching?”

  Nadine laughed. “No, I go over some of the old papers. Look to see if maybe I made mistakes. Once in a while I’ll change a grade. Some of those papers are so marked up they look bloody. It’s like I’ve waged a war on ’em. A teacher ever give you a paper back that looked like it was bleeding?”

  “Maybe just a small flesh wound.” Elise laughed.

  “Smart, huh?”

  “I don’t know how smart, but I did okay.”

  “I never had a red mark on one of my papers. Not one. If they were bloody, it was real.”

  Elise wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m sorry.”

  “No need for you to be sorry. It’s water under the bridge now. My daddy was good at drawing blood.”

  “Oh, Miss Nadine, how awful.”

  “It was awful for my mother, all right. Now she was smart. Just wasn’t smart enough not to marry my daddy. He was her undoing.”

  Elise saw tears sliding down her cheeks and leaned over and patted her hand. “Don’t think about it. Don’t let it upset you.”

  “No, I can’t let it upset me, not anymore.”

  They sat without talking for a time before Elise cleared her throat. “Miss Nadine, you know so much of Apalach’s history, I wonder if you could tell me something about the Myers family. Something about a boating accident.”

  “Lord, child, that was so long ago, but how could anybody forget something like that? Luther Myers.” She shook her head. “Poor man wrecked his automobile and never walked again, but he was determined not to let his affliction hold him back. They had only the one boy, and Luther wanted to be everything to him a father should be, legs or no.

  “When he took him out fishing that day it looked like he forgot he didn’t have use of his legs. There’d been a bad storm that made them late getting away. It was near dark when the storm doubled back, and them with only one life preserver.” She paused and appeared intent on smoothing her dress over her lap. “Luther had rigged up an old truck so he could operate it with his hands, a comical looking thing with no sides or any-thing so he could hoist his wheelchair in and out real easy. They were rushing cause they had such a late start, and one of the life preservers fell off the truck.

  “It was too late to go back when he discovered it missing. Right then the boy said his father insisted he put on the one remaining.” Nadine waved her hand in front of her face as though to shoo a fly or mosquito.

  “Most of the men around here know that river like the back of their hands, but Luther hadn’t figured on hitting a submerged log. Storm churned things up, you see. Probably had the motor wide open when he hit it. That poor youngster bobbed in the river and watched his daddy sink like a rock and nothing he could do. What a terrible thing for a child.”

  Nadine leaned back in her rocker and closed her eyes. Elise knew this signaled the end of the conversation. She patted her hand and started down the steps.

  “Don’t b
e a stranger,” Nadine called softly.

  “I won’t. I’ll see you soon.”

  Elise intended to walk past the haunted house but felt the pull on her feet, taking her to the Myers’, to Lawrence. To assure her welcome, she bought some fruit for the Meyers’, but her heart sank when she reached the gate and saw that he wasn’t in the swing, but she’d just started up the steps when he came around the side of the house. He took one look at Elise, dropped the trowel he was holding, and began wiping his hands on the sides of his pants. His smile broadened and he took long strides toward her. Without warning he stopped in his tracks, and his face looked stricken. Elise waited, unable to move as he turned from her and, taking the steps two at a time, disappeared inside the house.

  She felt something brush against her leg and looked down to see the orange tabby pushing itself against her, purring. When she tried to pet it, a pear rolled out of the basket of fruit she’d bought, and the cat ran away. “Now see what you made me do? I’m bruising the fruit.”

  She heard someone say, “Are you in the habit of talking to cats?” and felt his smile. Goose flesh crept up her arms as she turned to see Lawrence standing just inside the screen door. It was as though her blood chilled and slowed its course through her body. Her head rang with the sound of bells and then voices.

  There you are, Flynnie! Annelise lifted the orange tabby cat and held it in front of her face. I’ve been looking for you all morning.

  Do you always talk to cats?

  Annelise whirled around and looked at the young man carrying a box of tools. His dark blond hair was thick and tousled, and his green eyes piercing.

  What’s it to you if I do?

  Nothing. I just wondered.

  What is your business here, sir?

  Mr. Lovett hired me to build a new stable for his horses.

  You must be Seth. I’ve heard him talking about you. Are you as talented as he says?

  You be the judge of that after you see the new stable.

  Elise cleared her throat. “No, I don’t usually talk to cats.”

  “What’s that, honey?” Mrs. Myers walked around Lawrence to the door.

  “I, uh. Nothing. I brought you some fruit.”