by Peter Ponzo
"Well, if they can't force us out then we'll stay," said Liz. "We won't mind having a club in the building. Maybe we can join this club - what's it's name?"
"Don't know," said Colby, rising from his chair and straightening his tie. "You understand that the four months rent-free may not apply to you," he said, with a hint of scorn.
He started for the door without waiting for a response. After leaving the apartment, Colby stopped at the top of the stairs, stared up the stairwell toward the upper floors, shook his head, grunted and started down the stairs. He turned, said, "Thanks for the coffee," then continued down. They watched from the living room window as he climbed into a huge black Cadillac.
"We didn't ask him who the new owner is," said Bryan. "Maybe we could talk to him, the new owner, and say we'd like to stay, we'll be good, we won't get in the way of the club, we'll go to bed early and wash behind our ears and -"
"No need," said Liz sternly. "We'll just stay, and that's that."
She walked into the kitchen, sat down and finished her second cup of coffee. Bryan followed, frowning.
***
During the next four months they watched all of the tenants leave. There weren't many and those that they spoke to were happy to get out of WILL T WERS. The apartment was deserted by Christmas, except for Bryan and Liz. On Christmas Eve, as they dipped into the cheese fondue and sipped the chilled white wine, they had second thoughts about staying on. They had determined that the new owner was not a person, but some organization. They had tried in vain to contact some spokesman for the organization and looked forward to having someone show up to clean the place. It had always been a dirty apartment with cracked plaster and worn carpets. They assumed that some work would be done before the club moved in - if that is what a club does.
They did notice that the WILL T WERS sign had been removed. Bryan had noticed it when he returned from work. Liz insisted that it was removed after dark one evening, while they slept, but no one came and no work was done on the building and there was no sign of any club.
CHAPTER 20
Christmas Eve, 1984
On Christmas Eve they sat in their night clothes, sipping a cool white wine.
"Liz?" said Bryan. He waited for her to acknowledge, but she was sitting deep on the sofa, her eyes closed, a faint smile on her lips.
"I was thinking," he continued.
Liz reached out, patted him on the head without opening her eyes. "Very good, dear."
"No, I'm serious," he complained. "I think it's time we moved out of this place."
Liz opened her eyes, the smile still on her lips. "Why?"
"This is the place where a massacre took place ... New Year's Eve, remember?"
"Bryan, we've been through this before," she said, closing her eyes again, "and New Year's Eve is just a week away and you think -"
"No, that's not it, not exactly." He paused as though he needed to phrase things correctly. "Mrs. Perkins got it, remember?"
"And you think -" she began.
"Wait, hear me out." He put down his glass, carefully, and turned to stare at Liz. "Then Sam disappears ... then we see something really weird at his house, remember? Then everybody moves out of this apartment, remember?"
"Bryan," she groaned, now sitting upright, "the willow is gone from Willow Towers. Sam saw to that. The herbicide, remember?" she said, imitating his phrase.
"And now Sam is gone! Vanished!" he cried. "And now we're alone in this place!"
"Don't get excited. We already agreed to save for our own house and we have this place rent free ... well, at least nobody has asked for rent. What can be better than that? Besides, you said that Sam is probably just on a trip. I agree." Liz leaned back and closed her eyes. "You're just a wee bit afraid, that's all," she added.
Bryan was on his feet. "So were you! I know you were afraid! When Sam disappeared you were in tears, remember? You said we had seen the soul of the willow, remember? Yet here we are, living in this place, the same place where the massacre happened ... on New Year's Eve ..." Bryan looked at his watch as though he were counting the days to December thirty-one.
Liz looked with dismay at her husband. He was clearly upset.
"Sweetheart," she said calmly, "we'll spend New year's Eve with my mother. Okay? Then we'll talk about getting another place, okay?" Bryan sat down and grabbed his wine, splashing the contents onto the sofa. He ignored it and Liz continued. "I know, it seems stupid. We stay on where some awful things have happened, but that was in the past and many things have happened since then. The willow is gone and its roots are gone -"
"And now all the tenants have gone," Bryan moaned, "and Sam ... he's gone too."
Liz pulled him close and they sat embracing for some time.
"We'll look for another place to live, as soon as we come back from mother's," Liz said, cooing into his ear.
***
On the first day of January they returned from a quiet New Year's Eve. As soon as they reentered their apartment, Bryan collapsed on the sofa.
"It's good to be home," he sighed, then added quickly, "It's not that I dislike your mother ... uh, I actually like her very much." Liz was frowning. "I mean, she's a wonderful lady. And she likes me, I know that ... she kept feeding me those awful ... those cookies, gooey -" Liz continued to frown. "I mean, it's just that she won't leave us alone. She’s right there, all the time, talking and pushing food in my direction and -"
"Of course she's there all the time," said Liz angrily. "It's her house. And of course she keeps feeding you, you're her guest. And of course she won't leave us alone. If we wanted to be alone we wouldn't have gone to her house in the first place." Liz pushed the suitcase into the closet, slipped out of her coat and stalked into the kitchen. Bryan jumped up to follow and knocked over the table lamp. He bent to pick it up, bumped his head on the endtable, then collapsed again onto the sofa.
"Damn!" he muttered to himself, then, loudly, "Liz! Did I tell you what a wonderful time I had at your mother's?" He grinned to himself. "She's a wonderful lady, gracious and considerate. Her cookies are wonderful and ... and ... she's a wonderful host."
Liz stuck her head through the kitchen door.
"Wonderful," she said, smiling.
Bryan jumped up and ran to the kitchen door. He stopped and looked back at the table lamp, quizzically; it still lay on the floor. Then he turned again and ran into the wall.
Liz came to his side, rubbed his head, whispered in his ear, "So you're glad to be home, are you? But we're moving out, soon, remember?"
"We are? Oh ... yeah ... moving out." Bryan staggered to a kitchen chair. "Should we move out, Liz? I mean, really leave this - this -"
"This old and decrepit building? Why not? You wanted to, just a week ago, or have you forgotten?"
"Well, maybe we were a little hasty. We've become accustomed to this place, sort of like an old shoe -"
"Very old," suggested Liz. "And don't say we. I never suggested leaving. You did, or have you forgotten?"
"No, no, I remember. It's just that, well, maybe we should wait and see. Maybe find out about this club that's moving in. Maybe sit tight, just for a while."
"Maybe for twelve months, until next New Year's Eve," Liz muttered under her breath.
"Beg pardon?"
Liz grinned, kissed him on the head and broke two eggs into a bowl.
Bryan leaned back, looked around at the old kitchen and grinned. Maybe sit tight, just for a while.
***
Two days into the New Year a workman came and they spoke to him. He knew only that he was to check the furnace, nothing more. No, he didn't know who owned the building. He had been paid for the inspection in advance, in cash, by someone who simply walked into his office and spoke to the girl at the desk, leaving the money with her. The man spent an hour in the basement, then left.
By February, 1985, they had almost forgotten about the club. No one had asked for rent, and they hadn't p
aid any. That was fine with them. This could go on forever so far as they were concerned. The parking lot was covered in snow drifts which hadn't been plowed, but they could put up with that too. They simply parked on the driveway, next to the front door. Nobody complained; nobody else lived there. The electricity hadn't been turned off, they had plenty of hot water, heating oil was delivered periodically and the furnace was operational. In the past they had rarely talked to other tenants, so little had changed in that regard.
Yet, each looked forward to having friends drop by. There needed to be some laughter, some noise, some people coming and going. Somehow, living alone in the old apartment building wasn't right, yet Bryan didn't raise the subject of leaving. Not for some time.
***
On February 9, the newspaper had an article on Trees of Waterloo County. Some biology professor was identifying especially large specimens and the Gazette provided a map of the county with the location of each specimen. It was a fine Saturday morning, cold but sunny with bright blue skies and not a single cloud. Bryan suggested the trip and Liz immediately agreed. They could leave right after breakfast, visit eleven of the locations and be home by mid-afternoon. Liz packed a loaf of rye bread and various sausages, Bryan filled the thermos with hot coffee and they left, heading up King Street and across town.
The first tree was a huge oak set back from the road. There were several other cars parked on the road, obviously making the Gazette Tree Tour. Some had left their car and were walking around the tree snapping pictures and gazing up into the soaring branches. Bryan said that they could see everything from the car and suggested they just sit there but Liz got out and joined the small crowd wandering about the base of the tree. Bryan grunted, followed, stood back and watched Liz.
The man next to him leaned over and said, "Boring, eh? I don't know what my wife sees in a tree - just a big old tree to me. I see your Missus is the same." Bryan nodded, smiled and continued to wait for Liz to finish her inspection. "Did you see the blue spruce on Seymour?" said the man. "It weren't so big as this oak of course but it was blue and something to look at. Now a blue spruce, you don't see too many of those around. That was a fine tree."
Bryan smiled and nodded, hoping Liz would come back soon. It was getting cold and the coffee in the thermos might start getting cold.
"Of course that willow just out of town - not too many of those either, right?" The man laughed and poked Bryan in the arm. "Funniest old willow I ever seen. Branches all twisted up, not like your ordinary willow. Twisted and curled, those branches were." Bryan looked at the man next to him. He was waving to his wife and started to head toward their car.
"Uh ... , the willow, where did you say - ?"
Liz pulled Bryan by the arm. "Okay, let's go. I think the next tree is just around the corner. We can walk."
"Are you kiddin'?" groaned Bryan. "It's freezing out here. You walk - I'll drive. Just thinking of you dear. You won't have to walk all the way back to the car; I'll be right there, waiting for you." Liz grinned and headed off around the corner and Bryan walked back to the car. The man who had stood next to him was just getting into his car and Bryan waved and shouted, "That willow - where did you say it was?" The man waved back, so did his wife, then they drove away. Bryan drove his car around the corner and waited for Liz. He pored over the Gazette map. Most of the trees were labelled: oak, spruce, elm, ... no willow. Where had that guy seen a willow? He opened the thermos and took a long gulp just as the door opened.
"Hey! I brought cups," said Liz. "Use a cup, they're in the back seat."
"Liz? I was talking to a guy back there at the oak. He mentioned a willow tree but I can't find it on this map."
"A willow? We're finished with willows, remember?"
"I know, but he said this was a strange willow with branches twisted and curled - not your ordinary willow he says." Bryan held up the map in the Gazette. "See? No willow."
"Let's drive to Baker Street," said Liz. "There's an elm that must have escaped the Dutch Elm disease. Should be a beauty. Want me to drive?"
"No, I'll drive. Uh ... where's Baker Street?"
They spent the next two hours driving from tree to tree. Bryan was bored and sat in the car munching on rye bread and salami while Liz walked around every single tree. She didn't miss even one. Every tree was different she said, magnificent she said. Bryan found every gulp of coffee different, every bite of salami magnificent. Why had he suggested this tour?
By 2 o'clock they had visited the eleven trees and Bryan was eager to get back. The sun had disappeared, it had become overcast and he was cold. Liz's cheeks were rosy and her nose quite red. She kissed him on the forehead and agreed; they would go home and take a hot bath, together, in that undersized tub. Bryan could hardly wait and finished the last of the coffee.
When they got back there was a new sign above the front door. It said simply: WILLOW.
"Guess the TOWERS comes later," said Liz.
Bryan grunted agreement. Some day he would think about it, about all the things that had happened, about why and when and where ... but not now. Some day he would have the opportunity, the desire, the information. Some day he would return to his short history, he would unravel the mysteries ... but not now. Now he would slip into a steaming tub with his beautiful wife.
March, 1985
The snows had melted early and the parking lot was almost clear and the days were sunny. Soon the school term would be over and they would have the Summer free of teaching. They had decided to celebrate with a special meal: Chinese. They hadn't made anything different since Sam Jaffre had joined them for an Indian dinner. Just the same old roasts and potatoes and salads. It was while shopping in Hammer's grocery store that Bryan saw the man again. He looked familiar, but Bryan couldn't remember where he had seen him before. He asked Liz, but she didn't recognize him either. They had gone to the parking lot and had already stuffed the bags of groceries into the trunk: bean sprouts and ginger and bok choy and hoisin sauce - then Bryan remembered.
"The willow!" he cried. "That's it! The willow!"
"The willow? What on earth are you talking about?"
"The guy who talked to us about the willow tree, remember?"
"Bryan, you have a bad case of willow woggles."
"No ... you remember? The guy we met on that Gazette Tree Tour. He mentioned an old willow tree - an unusual tree. Remember?"
"Nope."
"Ha! And you say I'm the one with the lousy memory. You're the one with the -"
"Just kidding. Of course I remember, but what about it?"
"I saw him in Hammer's - just now."
"So?"
"Well ... I think we should talk to him, see where the tree is."
"Why? I thought we were finished with willow -"
"C'mon Liz. We'll just find out where it is, that's all. Wait! Here he comes now!" Bryan closed the trunk lid and ran to greet the man who was just sliding into his car. "Hey! Remember me?" The gentleman stared up at Bryan and squinted.
"Can't say that I do," he said cautiously.
"We met a few months ago, well, maybe two months ago, or was it February, I think. I was standing in front of a tree ... you too. I was cold and it was -"
"The Gazette Tree Tour," said Liz, leaning over Bryan's arm. "My husband says you mentioned a strange old willow tree,"
"Yes, I remember now. Our wives were wasting time - uh, sorry ma'am - our wives were looking at the trees. I remember."
"Well, can you remember where that old willow was? Where you had seen it?"
"Let me see ... yes, just out of town, on the old Dune Road. You know the road? Toward Cambridge, just -"
"Yes, yes," said Liz. "I know exactly where. Many thanks." She backed away and Bryan straightened, letting the man close his car door. He waved, then opened the window.
"But watch out," he shouted. "The old witch who lives there don't like anybody coming near her tree." Bryan nodded and waved as the man
drove off then looked at Liz who was already in the car.
"Liz? Why don't we drive by ... now? We've got plenty of time." He slid into the seat next to Liz.
"I really don't understand you," she said. "First you were pleased to be done with the willow tree thing, you wanted to have nothing to do with it, it wasn't worth the effort as you're so fond of saying, and now you want to -"
"C'mon Liz. It's not far."
"No. We can go after supper else the milk will freeze in the trunk and I've got to put the meat in the freezer."
They left right after supper. Bryan was impatient and they forgot about the chinese dinner and just heated up some roast and made a salad. Liz kept shaking her head all through the meal. Why on earth did Bryan want to see an old willow tree? But, as usual, she humoured him and they left without even washing the dishes. Bryan wasn't sure, himself, why he was so eager to see the willow tree. Perhaps guilt, at not having pursued the matter? Perhaps he had demonstrated his fear too bluntly. Hadn't Liz said just that? That he was afraid? Was he afraid?
***
The old Dune Road wasn't paved and there were few houses and the township snow plows seemed to have forgotten the road, but the warmer weather had melted most of the snow and the driving wasn't so bad. Bryan was a little nervous. He hadn't thought about the willow tree for some time. Why did he think that this was somehow connected? Just an old willow. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of willows in the county; they seemed to grow from a discarded twig. Why was this one any different? The branches: they were twisted and curled ... not your ordinary willow, that's what the man had said. Even so, why did he want to see it? It was on his mind, that's why. He had to see it to satisfy himself that it was just an old willow, nothing special, nothing evil.
When they pulled onto Dune Road, Liz slowed down. It was getting dark and if the tree were far off the road they may have difficulty seeing it. Maybe they should have gone before supper after all. They hit a bump and one of the headlights went out and the other seemed to get dimmer. Liz cursed under her breath. Bryan was peering out of the front window, leaning forward, quiet. She slowed even more, now hardly able to see the road.