Cold River

by Liz Adair

  Mandy had never seen anything like it. “I can’t believe this,” she said. “I just— it’s almost too much to take in. When you talk about the school band, you’re talking— ”

  “About a steel band.”

  “But why?”

  Just then a student came in. Mandy recognized the young man who worked with Willow in Midge’s office.

  “Hi, Randy,” Grange said. “Did you come to practice your solo?”

  The young man grinned. “Just one last time.”

  “We’ll get out of your way.” Grange turned to Mandy. “Want to come into my office? That way we can talk without bothering Randy.”

  She followed Grange through the music library room to a closet beyond that had been turned into a tiny office. He dragged a chair from the library and wedged it into a place behind the door, so Mandy could sit.

  She looked around at the crowded bookcases lining the walls. “So this is where you are when you’re not…”

  He sat at his desk. “I call it my hidey hole. Trouble is, there’s not room to stretch out, so I have to nap sitting up.” He smiled.

  Mandy picked up a catalog and looked at the cover. “You’re not the music teacher, are you? I thought I saw someone else. Mrs. Wilkes?”

  Grange nodded. “I take care of all the extra stuff— the logistics of getting kids to schools to help do math facts, and I’m the organizing force behind Opening Festival.” His teeth flashed against the darkness of his beard and moustache, and he looked at her sideways. “Would this qualify as beating around the bush? What did you want to say to me?”

  Mandy put the book back down on the desk and carefully squared it up with the corner. “I, um, just wanted to— ” She shook her head. “This is really hard.”

  “You wanted to tell me that the Dog’s Dinner is the reason you left Albuquerque. He’s a married man that has the hots for you, and maybe you felt the same. It was an untenable situation, so you left. He followed you here and tried to rekindle the fire. You doused it. The end.”

  Mandy looked up and smiled wryly. “That’s pretty much it. How did you know?”

  “Why else would someone with credentials and references like you have come upriver?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Don’t sell your district short.”

  “Believe me, I’m trying not to.”

  They sat in silence for a moment, neither looking at the other. She riffled the pages of the catalog. “I spoke with Agnes Wilson yesterday,” she began tentatively. “She told me about all the things you’re doing with music and math.”

  Grange frowned. “How did you happen to talk to her? She’s way down by Seattle.”

  “Yeah. I was blown away by all the things you’re doing. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He shrugged. “You never asked.”

  Mandy sat back in her chair and regarded him. “Why a steel band?” she suddenly asked. “I understand the bluegrass, but why the other?” She gestured toward the music room.

  He looked at his watch. “It’s a bit of a story, and I really have to go back to the beginning, back to when I got out of high school and didn’t have any ambition to get an education. I just wanted to work in the woods, marry, have a family. But something happened, something quite final, to make it so that dream wouldn’t come true.”

  Grange paused for a moment, and she looked up to find his eyes resting on her. She looked down again and placed her hand over her heart, conscious that it was beating faster than normal.

  He continued with his story. “I lived in a black place for a long time. One day my Uncle Buck told me I needed to get myself squared around with God, and I needed find a way to serve my fellow man.”

  Grange picked up a pencil and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. “This was advice that came from way beyond left field,” he said wryly. “If you knew my Uncle Buck, you would know he wouldn’t even have been in the ballpark. But he talked about choices and how the ones you make early mark you for what you’ll be. He talked about how hard it was to change what you had become and said he wanted me to do something good with my life.”

  Mandy ventured another look. Grange’s gaze had been on the pencil, but he raised it to her face, and she noticed how the darkness of his hair and beard accentuated the blue of his eyes,

  “I don’t think I would have listened to anyone else, but I began to wonder if I’d made that decision— the decision to serve— earlier, maybe I wouldn’t have lost… ” His voice trailed away, and his eyes dropped to the pencil again.

  “I talked to Pastor Barlow, and he handed me off to his wife. She’s a lady that knows the meaning of the word ‘outreach.’”

  Mandy nodded. “I know.”

  “Yeah. I heard about you and Tammy. Well, Millie Barlow sent me to Jamaica, and I ended up working in an orphanage that was run by a group of nuns.” Grange set the pencil down on the desk and leaned back in his chair. “This is where I confess that every part of Inches’ integrated music program was lifted from what those nuns were doing.”

  “What do you mean, every part?”

  He ticked them off on his fingers: “The steel band, students learning to build and tune the pans, the math facts songs, the dances that go with them. I didn’t write the melodies. Sister Ethelberta did. Steel bands didn’t originate in Jamaica. They come from Trinidad, but they spread to Jamaica, and the nuns saw how they could be a tool for their mission.” He leaned forward. “These amazing ladies created a joyous, industrious, educational environment and gave these cast-off children the tools to go out into the world and thrive.”

  “But why a steel band? Couldn’t you have reproduced the whole thing with stringed instruments. You’ve got lots of talented kids playing bluegrass. Couldn’t they do the math stuff?”

  Grange shook his head. “Two reasons.” He picked up the pencil again and drummed on the desk with it. “It’s something about the physical process of beating on something. That appeals to everyone. Everyone can do it, and there’s a place— a voice— for everyone, from the most talented to the least. We don’t have a lot of discipline problems at Inches. I think that’s because so many kids are involved in this common cause. But I also think it’s because they are able to channel aggression into whacking on a steel drum.”

  “So did that count as two reasons?” Mandy asked.

  “Nope. The second reason is the sound. It’s like sunshine, and where is a better place to play sunshine than in rainy Hiesel Valley? It draws the kids in. They want to be involved. You don’t get that with stringed instruments, or with brass, either.”

  “So tell me,” Mandy said. “I’ve seen the music budget. I know it doesn’t come from the state or from the local levies. Where does it come from? Mo won’t tell me.”

  Grange grinned. “That’s because he knows what’s good for him. He’s been sworn to secrecy.” He looked at his watch. “It’s almost time to go back in. Let me ask you something— no, two things.”

  He spoke so earnestly that her reply was tentative. “Okay.”

  “Fran told me you intend to leave, right away. Is that true?”

  “Why would she say— ” Mandy broke off as she remembered the morning she ended up in the blackberry bushes. “Oh. I think I did say that.”

  “And is it true?”

  “Um, I don’t know. Guy— the Dog’s Dinner— told me they’re holding my old spot open, and I could go back now without, you know. But… ”

  “But?”

  “Every now and then I get to thinking that I could make a difference here. But there’s the budget thing— my salary, as you pointed out. And the district doesn’t need me.” She took a deep breath. “They need you. There, I’ve said it.”

  “Don’t worry about the budget. I think I know a way around that. The thing is, Mrs. Riley came to see me yesterday. She wanted to talk to me about your reading program.”

  “Oh?”

  “She said something about me being the north end of a southbound mule and told me the plan wa
s worth more consideration than I gave it. She wants to hear more.”

  Mandy grinned. “I like that part about the mule.”

  “So, what do you say? Will you stay? At least through the end of this year?”

  “I think I can do that,” she said. “That was easy. Now, what was the second question?”

  “Your perfume. What is it? It reminds me of Jamaica. Calls up lots of memories.”

  “My perfume? Oh— ” She touched the flower. “— you must be smelling my gardenia. It’s very fragrant, isn’t it?”

  “It’s real? I thought it was— ”

  Mandy watched as Grange’s brain processed the information, and she saw in his eyes the moment he realized she was wearing a flower from Vince Laffitte.

  Just then the door to the office opened, and Fran stuck her head in.

  “I thought I’d find you here! Mandy, Leesie’s on stage, and they’re calling for you.”

  She jumped up. “Oh! Thank you, Fran. I’ll get right in there.”

  As she left, she heard Fran say, “Stay a minute, Grangie.”

  She didn’t have time to puzzle on Fran’s playful tone or the pet name she used, for she met Rael at the music room door.

  He smiled a greeting. “They’re calling for you. Come on.”

  “For me?” Mandy followed him through the crowded hallway leading into the gym. When they emerged, a cheer went up, and people began to chant, “Dr. Steenburg, Dr. Steenburg.”

  As Leesie beckoned from the bandstand, Rael took Mandy’s hand and led her across the floor and up the stairs. She stood uncertainly, looking out into the sea of upturned faces as Leesie took the microphone.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present Mandy Steenburg playing her own composition, the ‘Stinkbug Boogie’!”

  A wave of laughter swept over the crowd, followed by a burst of applause.

  “Leesie!” Mandy protested. “What are you doing?”

  Rael led her to the piano and signaled Jake to give him his guitar. As Rael fastened the shoulder strap, Mandy gave him one last, beseeching look. He winked at her and said, “One, two, one-two-three-four.”

  The old warhorse musician surfaced, and she began to play, picking up the beat laid down by Rael. Maybe it was her pledge to Grange that she would stay, or maybe it was the infatuation she had shed; maybe it was the welcoming applause, or perhaps it was the memory of those blue eyes resting on her as Grange told her story. Whatever the reason, her happiness bounced out and onto the keyboard.

  She heard Rael come in on rhythm guitar and then felt Leesie’s bass walking up and down underneath both of them. They played through two more choruses, and Mandy ended with a flourish, then stood and faced the exuberant audience with shining eyes. Leesie gave her a one-armed squeeze, and Jake pumped her hand. Rael, divested of his guitar, stepped up, wrapped his arms around her, swept her off her feet, and kissed her full on the mouth. The crowd roared and clapped, and when Rael released her, Mandy stood in the circle of his arm with rosy cheeks and a wide smile as she looked around the room.

  “Way to go, Sweetiebug.” Rael’s beard brushed against her cheek as he whispered in her ear.

  Willow stared daggers from the front row. Mo applauded and whistled from a few rows back. Mandy’s eyes sought Grange, but he stood by Fran with his hands in his pockets, leaning his head down to catch what she was saying. Suddenly, he threw back his head and laughed, and Fran reached up to ruffle the hair curling at the nape of his neck.

  Mandy looked away and caught sight of Vince just entering the hall. She cast a quick glance back at Grange, but he was still smiling down at Fran. Turning, Mandy again found Vince in the crowd, and when he saw her, she touched the flower in her hair. He raised his hand in reply and started towards her.

  She made her way to the bandstand stairs, acknowledging congratulations shouted up to her as she went. At the steps, she paused, and as she did so, she met Grange’s eyes. He looked from her to Vince and back, then turned and, it seemed, made some sort of joke to Fran.

  Mandy hurried down the stairs and walked through the friendly crowd to where Vince stood. His clean-shaven face creased into a welcoming smile, and he extended both hands. She gave him hers and smiled up at him when he complimented her on her playing.

  Mandy didn’t spend the rest of the evening exclusively with Vince, but she was constantly aware of him and of the way he watched her. He stood beside her and cheered enthusiastically as Leesie’s group played. He listened with a warm expression in his eyes as Mandy laughingly told him how she’d had no idea her sister was in a bluegrass band until a few days before. He followed Mandy to the bandstand with his hand just touching the small of her back as she pressed through the crowd to congratulate the band and hug her sister. And later, Vince was beside her, moving with the beat, as the steel band filled the gym with metallic sunshine.

  She was aware of Grange, too, as he moved around the room, talking with students and citizens. Several times she caught him watching her, but each time his eyes slid away and he turned to speak to someone else.

  Another bluegrass group played the last set. They began with lively tunes but ended with a slow, mellow song in three-quarter time. “Last dance,” Vince said as he turned to Mandy. She drifted into his arms and closed her eyes as they moved in unison across the floor. Just as the last strains of the music faded away, he whispered, “I missed you.”

  She nodded but somehow couldn’t bring herself to echo the sentiment.

  Vince didn’t seem to notice. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  Again Mandy nodded and was conscious of his presence close behind as she made her way through the crowd to the corridor. She let him help her on with her coat, and as she preceded him out the door, she saw Grange. Head and shoulders above the surrounding people, he walked beside Fran, looking down at her and smiling as he talked. Fran laughed and took his arm, and they walked out into the night side by side.

  Mandy’s throat tightened, and she suddenly felt lonely and a little weepy. Stepping to the side, she let Vince come beside her, and she reached for his hand.

  When they got to her car, Vince opened the door for her but stood in the way, prolonging the moment by talking about inconsequential things. An evening mist diffused and dimmed the parking lot lights, and she leaned back against the Miata’s soft top as she asked about his trip. He answered lightly, turning the problems he faced into an amusing narrative. As she listened and laughed, she watched a pulse beating at his throat and was conscious that his nearness, the smell of his gardenia, the feel of his body heat in the cool night air left her deliciously breathless.

  It began to drizzle, and Mandy, pulled back to her surroundings, realized they were almost the last ones in the parking lot. “I’ve got to go.”

  Vince moved so she could get in the car, but he took her hand. “Come to Seattle with me tomorrow.”

  She shook her head. “It’s raining. I’ve got to go.”

  But she let him kiss her. She stood in the corner between the open door and the car, and as he leaned down and she turned her face up to his, she felt the roughness of his palm on her cheek. Their lips touched, and his hand moved to the nape of her neck and buried itself in her curls. His other arm slid around to the small of her back and pulled her close. The coolness of the night air mixed with the feel of his strength and gave her a sense of shelter as she tasted his mouth on hers. It didn’t help that when they came up for air, she found herself looking into those fine eyes.

  “You tip me off balance,” Mandy said. “I’ve got to go.”

  Just then the shower turned into a downpour. Vince kissed her once more and said, “Get in.” He closed the door for her and stayed as she started her car and pulled away.

  Driving out of the parking lot, Mandy saw a familiar figure, shoulders hunched against the rain, locking the front door to the school. It was only as she recognized Grange’s pickup as one of the last cars in the lot that she began to wonder if he had seen her kissing Vince. “W
ell, what if he did?” she muttered. “It wouldn’t matter to him.”

  Somehow that thought brought back the weepy feeling. As she drove through the pelting rain toward the Timberlain Road turnoff, a tear spilled over and ran down her cheek.

  “I DON’T THINK you’ll have any more problems with pranks,” Leesie said to Mandy as they drove through a driving rain to church Sunday morning.

  “What do you mean, pranks?”

  “Oh, you know— people trying to get you to leave town.”

  Mandy’s brow creased. “Do you call car wrecks a prank? I call it a threat on my life. Why do you think they are now magically going to cease?”

  “Because you played the ‘Stinkbug Boogie.’ People got to see what you’re like. It didn’t hurt that Rael kissed you, either.”

  Mandy turned the wipers to high. “That’s faulty logic, for sure. By the way, who told him to call me Sweetiebug?”

  Leesie grinned. “I told Jake, and Jake must have told him. How was it, by the way? The kiss?”

  Mandy tried to keep from smiling. “It was, um, surprising. Very surprising. But nice.”

  “Feel any twinges? Any quickening pulse?”

  “I’d be foolish to do that. He’s no freer than… well, never mind.”

  “He isn’t? I thought that he was a widower.”

  Mandy shook her head. “Not only is Jake’s mom still alive, but Rael and she have never divorced.”

  “No! Really?” Leesie was silent a moment, digesting that information. “Still, it was a great kiss,” she said finally.

  Mandy tried to suppress a smile. “It wasn’t the only kiss I got last night.”

  “I knew it! I’ve seen the way Mr. Timberlain looks at you. Where did he make his move? In his office? It’s nice and private.”

  “No, silly! Vince.”

  “You let Heathcliff kiss you? Not very choosy, are you?”

  Mandy frowned over at her sister. “Aren’t you being judgmental? I don’t think you’ve spoken two words to him. You don’t know anything about what kind of man he is.”