The Qualities of Wood

by Mary Vensel White

‘Oh, come on,’ she said. ‘Enough with your secret recipes, already. Don’t you want me to be able to cook for your brother?’

  ‘No, I want him alive.’

  ‘Very funny. I know that’s cilantro.’

  Lonnie put the lid on the dish and nestled it among the briquettes, which were smoldering. He walked to a nearby tree and pulled a branch down. The wood cracked as he pulled it from the tree; the branch left a greenish, gaping wound in the trunk. He laid it over the hole, secured the edges with two fist-sized rocks, then wiped his hands on his pants.

  ‘Won’t that catch fire?’ she asked.

  ‘Too green,’ he said. ‘Ready?’ He put the wrapper into the brown bag.

  ‘Why don’t you do this closer to the house?’ she asked.

  ‘I like the idea of roughing it.’

  When they reached the edge of the trees, Vivian paused. ‘You’re not afraid out here? I mean, after what happened?’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Chanelle Brodie. Don’t you ever think about it?’

  ‘No.’ He pushed past the trees into the sunlight.

  A vision of the young girl, her body splayed on the rock like a cloak thrown carelessly over a chair, flashed in Vivian’s mind. She had imagined it so many times, the mud-caked sneakers lifeless on the ground, the fingers curled back, the weighty, smooth boulder, that she sometimes forgot that the detailed mental picture was the work of her imagination and not of her memory.

  She followed Lonnie onto the grass and struggled to keep up with his long strides. ‘It’s strange to be out here,’ she continued, ‘so close to the place where someone died.’

  Lonnie crumpled the bag in his large hands. ‘I never think about it.’

  ‘Do you think it was an accident?’

  ‘That’s what they say.’

  ‘I know,’ Vivian said, ‘but they found her in a strange position.’

  Lonnie stopped ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Her arms were at her side, like this.’ She demonstrated.

  ‘So?’

  ‘If someone fell forward, they would try to break the fall, like this.’ She held her hands up near her chest.

  They had reached the garbage can beside the house. Lonnie asked: ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘Someone at the newspaper office. Don’t you think that’s strange?’

  ‘I don’t think anything about it. They have experts.’ He opened the lid of the trashcan and pushed the wadded brown paper bag down on top of the garbage.

  ‘In a small town like this, you think they have “experts?”’ They stepped onto the front porch.

  ‘I think it depends how fast you were going,’ Lonnie said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  He closed his eyes in a show of patience. ‘If you were running very fast and you tripped, I think you’d find yourself on your face before there was time to do anything.’ He lifted his arms and turned his palms upward. ‘Besides, do you think your arms would do you any good? I mean, if the impact was so strong?’

  ‘I guess you’re right,’ she said. ‘People fly through windshields headfirst.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  She thought about what he had said and it seemed to make sense. If your momentum was so great that you had no time to react. ‘What do you think of Mr Stokes?’ she asked.

  He lowered his voice. ‘First you ask me if I think there was something fishy about that girl’s death and now you ask me my opinion of Mr Stokes. Very subtle, Vivian.’

  ‘Just forget it.’

  ‘Tell me what you mean.’ He watched her face.

  She signaled him to the corner of the porch. ‘Nobody in the town sees Mr Stokes for years. We move here and all of a sudden, he’s everywhere. He showed up the evening that they found her, the Brodie girl. You had just left that day and I had just arrived. Then the day Mrs Brodie was here to see where they found her, here he comes again. And he followed me in the woods one time, scaring me to death. Then you run into him and he gets invited on your fishing trip, and he’s here when we come home that night.’

  ‘I didn’t ‘run into’ him, Vivian. I went over to his place because I wanted to ask him about his meat smoker.’

  ‘But he was out there, lingering around.’

  ‘On his own property!’

  ‘Never mind,’ she said. ‘I just wanted to know what you thought of him.’ She tried to walk toward the door, but Lonnie grabbed her arm lightly, just above the elbow. She jerked her arm away and when she saw the startled then humiliated look on his face, she immediately regretted it. They were both thinking of the night at Beverly’s.

  ‘If you must know,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I think he’s pretty strange. He always seems to be sizing people up. That’s his nature, I guess. Sometimes he looks suspicious. I don’t mean that he looks like he’s done something; I mean he looks at others in a suspicious way. But that’s just my point of view, which isn’t good for two cents because I hardly know him and shouldn’t be talking in the first place.’

  ‘I was just curious,’ she said weakly.

  Lonnie leaned towards her. ‘You’ve been watching too many crime shows, Vivian. The police think it was an accident, that’s what they said. Hell, Sheriff Townsend is a good friend of the mother, and he’s not nosing around.’

  ‘Who’s out there?’ Dot called. A few seconds later, her face appeared at the screen door.

  ‘Hi, honey,’ Lonnie said.

  ‘Where were you two?’

  ‘Vivian helped me carry that chicken out to the cooking hole.’

  ‘I’m afraid that was my job,’ she said to Vivian, ‘but I decided to sleep a little later. This hot weather is draining me, you know? I feel so tired all the time.’ She opened the door for them and Vivian followed Lonnie into the kitchen.

  ‘Are you sure that you know what you’re doing with that chicken?’ Dot asked.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘What about salmonella or E. coli, which is it? I’m not sure that you can slow-cook chicken.’

  ‘Do you really think I would poison you?’

  ‘Not on purpose,’ she said.

  Vivian snickered from where she stood at the coffee pot.

  ‘Your faith in me is unbelievable,’ he said. ‘Both of you.’ He left the room, grumbling all the way down the hall.

  Vivian walked across the kitchen and pulled back the curtain to the study. ‘Nowell?’

  He turned his head and smiled.

  She walked over to the desk and squeezing herself onto his lap, pressed her face against his.

  ‘What’s all this for?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t need a reason, do I?’ She glanced at the computer screen, which was filled with typing. One exclamation at the center of the page jumped out at her: ‘What is it that you want?’ She couldn’t imagine anyone shouting the phrase; it was so formal and awkward. ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘I’m about three-quarters through the first draft. I have to start thinking about tying up all the loose ends. Are you just about ready for the yard sale?’

  ‘I think so. The ad actually starts in the newspaper today. They don’t print on Tuesdays or Thursdays, so it’ll run today and Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Tomorrow night we’ll have to start setting up.’

  ‘Sounds good. Do you need me to pick up anything in town?’

  ‘Just those tables. Katherine said she’d meet you tomorrow at the grammar school at three-thirty.’

  ‘How many am I supposed to get?’

  ‘They’re those long tables they use in the auditorium, so five should be plenty. We’ll lay the rest of the stuff out on the grass. Yard sales aren’t supposed to be high-class affairs.’

  ‘Will Lonnie be around to help me with the tables?’

  ‘I think so. You haven’t talked to him since your argument?’

  ‘Of course I’ve talked to him.’

  ‘But you’re still angry. You’re cooped up in here like always, but now, even
when you’re around, you hardly speak to anyone. And Lonnie’s been going out almost every night, sometimes after we’re all in bed, I think.’

  ‘What do you mean, “going out?”’

  ‘He meets up with those guys. I guess they go down to the tavern. Dot seems pretty upset about it.’

  ‘Don’t start getting involved in their business, Viv.’

  ‘I’m not, but it’s affecting you so it affects me.’

  ‘Lonnie going out has no effect on me whatsoever.’

  She stood up. ‘So there isn’t a strain between you over that stupid shirt?’

  ‘Maybe we’ve both been preoccupied.’

  ‘With what?’

  ‘I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m trying to write a book here. Dani’s starting to set up stuff for the fall, maybe some book signings…’

  ‘But you haven’t finished,’ Vivian said.

  ‘We’re going to promote Random Victim again before this one’s released. I need to have the first draft done.’

  ‘You never said…’

  ‘Viv!’ His voice was stern. ‘I’m telling you now. Dani wants me to do a signing in the city at the end of September, then about five more in a tri-state tour. That’s all she has planned for now, to start off locally. She thinks there’ll be a regional interest we could capitalize on.’

  Vivian got up and walked over to one of the tall bookshelves. It reached almost to the ceiling. Her eyes fell on a long line of encyclopedias, a shelf stacked with yellowed paperback westerns, and then a set of books entitled Myths, Legends, and Phenomena. Each book of this last set had a similar navy blue cover and a smaller title in jarring, neon letters. Vivian noticed one near the center on UFO’s and wondered if Lonnie had seen it.

  Nowell said, ‘I’ve still got to go through those. I’ll do it tonight.’

  ‘I could take a look at them first,’ she offered.

  ‘No, that’s alright. I’ll take them down tonight and bring out the ones I don’t want.’

  She spun around. ‘What am I supposed to do while you’re running around with Dani?’ The moment the words left her mouth, she was sorry. She wasn’t jealous in that way. She was more upset with his secrecy and his tendency to be completely self-involved.

  ‘I don’t know, Viv. I hadn’t thought about it. You see, I’ve been busy writing this goddamn book.’

  ‘I didn’t mean – look, it’s just that we haven’t been alone since Dot and Lonnie got here. I haven’t said anything before, but you told me they were staying for two weeks.’

  ‘You’re jumping from one subject to another.’

  ‘It’s all related! We need time to work things out and it’s next to impossible in this environment. You’ve been completely unavailable.’

  ‘What do we need to work out?’

  She shook her head. ‘I think we both know there’s something, we just haven’t figured out what it is.’

  ‘You’re speaking so cryptically,’ he said. ‘I have no idea how to respond. As for Lonnie and Dot, I didn’t know you wanted them to leave.’

  ‘I never said…’

  ‘I thought they were helping you with the house, which made me feel better because I haven’t been. I also thought that you liked Dot and that they were keeping you company, something else I felt sorry about because I know I’ve been putting most of my energy into this book. The last time I talked to Lonnie about it, he told me they were having a great time. His new job starts soon, but if you want me to ask them to go earlier…’

  ‘You’re taking what I said out of context. The main point was that we haven’t had any time together.’

  He nodded. ‘To work things out, you said. Other than the one issue we’ve been discussing, I didn’t know there was anything else. I thought we both agreed, without saying so, to drop the issue of children for a while. Are there other problems I don’t know about?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Sometimes I feel like I don’t know you anymore.’

  ‘What?’ Nowell was losing his patience.

  ‘I think I’m a little depressed over my birthday,’ Vivian said. ‘I’m feeling restless, like I’m between acts.’ She was losing her nerve. ‘Don’t worry, I’m just a little tired today. Maybe I’ll take a nap later. Let me know when you’re ready for lunch; I’ll make you a sandwich.’

  ‘You don’t have to do that.’

  ‘And you really should open a window. It’s cooling down today, finally. There’s a nice breeze and if we open this side of the house, the air can circulate.’

  ‘You know it blows all my papers around.’

  ‘Weigh them down with something.’ She picked up the coffee cup that Dani had inscribed for him after his book was published. In black cursive letters it said Nowell S. Gardiner, Author. ‘Use this.’ She kissed him on the forehead and walked toward the kitchen.

  After she let the curtain divider fall back into place, she turned and almost ran into Dot, who was hurrying past her into the hallway. ‘Sorry,’ Vivian said.

  Dot’s face was pale and her eyes darted around. Vivian could smell her vanilla scent and could see the faint line across the bridge of her nose where her sunglasses had blocked the sun. Dot smiled weakly and continued down the hall, softly closing their bedroom door behind her.

  Did she hear our conversation, Vivian wondered. She may have misunderstood, thought that Vivian wanted them to leave. She didn’t know if she should go after Dot or let it go. Part of her was getting tired of having so many people in the house, and part of her was afraid to be alone with Nowell, without diversions.

  On the porch, leaves and debris danced in a circle, thankful and joyous in the cool breeze. Throwing her head back and feeling the muscles in her neck stretch and pull, Vivian let the first fingers of the wind reach her.

  26

  The next day, Vivian and Dot started hauling boxes out to the front yard for the sale. Lonnie tied a rope between two trees and they hung most of the clothing from it. The rest would be stacked on the tables, along with other items: small appliances, lamps, kitchen tools, pillows, linens and knickknacks. Furniture was placed on the porch, except for the pieces they were keeping until they moved out.

  That morning, Katherine phoned to ask if Nowell could come down to the school earlier to pick up the tables. Because of all the incoming traffic for the reunion, the children were being sent home early. Vivian decided to make the trip herself. She wanted to hang a flier about the yard sale in the community center, in case many of the out-of-towners didn’t pick up The Sentinel. She also wanted to get a glimpse of some of the Clements. The community center was being used as a meeting place for the reunion, along with the park across the street and for the evening events, the ballroom at the Best Western.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?’ Dot sat cross-legged in the center of the lawn, clothing fanned around her on the grass. On red stickers that they had purchased at the arts and crafts store, she wrote prices with a thick black marker, then affixed the stickers to the labels in the clothing or inside, along a hem. They hadn’t been able to find a price gun like she’d wanted.

  ‘No, thanks,’ Vivian said. ‘A couple of the teachers will help me load the tables, then I’ll just stop by and post that sign.’

  ‘I thought I’d make iced tea for customers, you know? Do you think we should put out some cookies?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Dot squinted through the amber-colored lenses of her sunglasses. Whitish cream was smeared on both of her shoulders, probably the citrus-smelling sunscreen that she used. Pale and prone to sunburn, she wore one of Lonnie’s t-shirts over her bikini. It reached to her knees. Blonde wisps had escaped from the plastic, shell-like thing that held her hair in a messy crescent, and she occasionally blew them off her face. ‘Lonnie was asking about the lawn again,’ she said.

  ‘Tell him not to worry about it. That’s Nowell’s job.’

  Dot nodded and went back to her work. Vivian wondered again if she had overheard her discu
ssion with Nowell the day before. She didn’t know what to say or do about it. She went into the house to get her purse and when she turned back towards the door, Dot was on the porch.

  ‘Vivian, I wanted to talk to you.’ Dot pushed her sunglasses back on her head and stepped into the kitchen. ‘My mother called last night, after everyone had gone to bed. She’s not doing very well, you know, and she asked if I would come and see her. Maybe one last time, she said, but I don’t think it’s that serious.’ She twisted the corner of the long t-shirt in her hand. ‘She can be difficult. Sometimes it’s hard to see what’s the truth and what isn’t. I’d like to stay through the yard sale to help out, but I think it’s best if I leave Sunday morning. Do you think you could handle the last day by yourself? You know, Lonnie and Nowell can help.’

  ‘Of course, but…’

  ‘Because if you really need me…’ She looked down.

  ‘No, you should go,’ Vivian said. ‘What’s wrong with her?’

  Dot looked up and sighed. ‘She drinks, Vivian. Now there are other health problems, but it all starts with that.’

  ‘Oh.’ Vivian stepped towards her but stopped. ‘Shouldn’t Lonnie go? I mean, I don’t want you to think he has to help me.’

  ‘He wants to stay here. He hasn’t met her, you know. The whole thing makes him uncomfortable. We’ll wait until she’s having an easier time.’

  ‘Listen, Dot, I think maybe you heard me and Nowell yesterday.’

  She shook her head. ‘You don’t have to say anything. I understand, really.’

  ‘This has nothing to do with that? Because it’s not really about you at all.’

  ‘Oh, no. She called last night, really late. You were asleep.’ Dot rubbed her arm with one hand as though she was cold, but even at mid-morning, it was already hot. ‘To tell you the truth, Vivian, I think it’s good that I take a break for other reasons.’

  Here it comes, Vivian thought. Why did I say that to Nowell?

  ‘It’s this fight between Nowell and Lonnie, you know? It’s making Lonnie cranky and distant, and I feel like I should give him some space to work it out. Because it has nothing to do with me. All of it was there before I came on the scene. Does that make sense?’