Hope Falls_Passing Through

by Frances Elliot

  Chapter Four – Sunday

  The next day Ryan resolutely threw things back into his suitcase, checked out for the second time, and walked down to that café for something to eat. To his amazement, there was a line at the door but as he turned to leave, several people assured him he’d be a fool to miss the Ultimate Waffle, Served Sundays Only. So he got in line, leaned against the warm brick wall of the next-door music shop (We Rent Pianos!) and dug out his phone. Wonderful – 247 unread emails.

  “Hey – Reilly, right?”

  Ryan looked up and saw one of the contractors from the bowling alley, dressed in a baseball jersey with “Flyers” emblazoned across the front. “Hey, hi. It’s Ryan, actually.”

  “Sorry. I’m Harry, remember? Listen, are you alone? They use singles to fill in tables, and I always seem to wind up with kids who spill their milk. Want to double up?”

  Ryan said sure, why not. The wait wasn’t too bad and it turned out he would have waited a lot longer for a waffle that good. During the meal, Harry invited him to come watch the game, should be a pretty good one this week, their best guy was pitching. Ryan was half-listening, waiting for a chance to beg off, when he heard “and it’s a pretty good time – half the town turns out.”

  Which half, he wondered? High school kids, old folks and young families? Or interesting blondes and their friends? He thought it over for a minute. “Where do you play?”

  “Oh, city park a few blocks over. But you can ride with me if you want.”

  Okay, it was at least worth a shot – it might be the park near her house. He could ride over, watch a few former high school dreamers toss the ball around a while, and if he didn’t see her, no big deal. He could leave and still get on the road early in the afternoon. For sure this time. It was definitely time to move on, unless… He told Harry it sounded swell, he’d like to, but was there time to split another waffle?

  The other team, for some unknown reason named the South Tahoe Tumblers, was taking batting practice and shagging balls around when they arrived. It was indeed the park down the street from her house, which they sailed right by, but the ball field was at the far end about two blocks away.

  There were a lot more bleachers set up than Ryan expected and on them, a lot more people. Before running over to join his team, Harry directed him to the seats along the first base line, warning him to steer clear of the “bums” on the third base side. Since those stands seemed to be filled with cheerful people indistinguishable from the Hope Falls rooting section, Ryan decided this was might be some kind of grudge match.

  It sure was, and it wasn’t a bunch of small town dreamers. He’d scanned everyone as carefully as he could but didn’t see the girl, and wound up seated with a bunch of University of Nevada kids who’d driven in from Reno to watch a former college All-Star. They also pointed out the Tumbler who’d played triple A last year, noting with glee that he hadn’t made the majors.

  After a while, Ryan found himself completely caught up by the enthusiasm that surrounded him, leaping to his feet, cursing the umps, groaning when the Tumblers scored. The spring sun was warm; the giant firs surrounding the field rustled in the breeze; the infield dust had the nostalgic smell of childhood playgrounds.

  At the seventh-inning stretch, Ryan got in a long line at the concession stand. (Hot Dogs – Popcorn – Cappuccino - Soft Drinks.) Cappuccino? The man at the front of the line turned with a large cardboard tray of snacks and Ryan recognized the girl’s brother, coming straight towards him.

  His mind went blank and he felt suddenly overcome by the remorseless ineptitude of high school. The guy had almost passed by when Ryan managed to croak out “Hey, tell your sister hi for me.” Good lord, could he have said anything more inane?

  “I’m sorry. What?”

  He was forced to repeat it. “Tell your sister Ryan said hi.”

  With a nod and a puzzled look, the man walked on. As Ryan went back to his seat with his not-bad cappuccino, he re-scanned the crowd and spotted the brother distributing bags of chips to a line of kids about ten years old. So if the girl was here, she was with someone else. Probably her fiancé, the professional athlete/male model/Pulitzer winner from Tahoe, he thought glumly.

  The Flyers won 5-4 and the stands began to empty, some people heading for cars, others standing around chatting and congratulating the team. Harry ambled over to tell him “everyone” was headed over to the local watering hole to celebrate, he should come along, it would be a blast. Later, Ryan decided it was at that moment he’d accepted the fact that he was temporarily insane and totally without volition. He’d said sure, he’d love to and abandoned himself to fate.

  ***

  Alice had slept late, picked up the house a little and after lunch, gone out to the garage to look for a shovel or a trowel. Or one of those three-pronged claw things, did they have one of those? She’d talked herself out of walking down the block to the game – there was no point, really, because that handsome stranger had surely left town by now.

  At about two, she came inside and found David sitting at the kitchen table reading the Sunday Sacramento paper. He looked her over and lifted his eyebrows. “What the hell have you been doing?”

  “I decided to re-plant the vegetable garden Mom had. You know, over by the fence.”

  “What vegetable garden? Mom got vegetables in the frozen food section.”

  Alice laughed. “I know, I know. But at least she tried. I think we were still in grade school, sometime around then. And I felt like I ought to do something, I don’t know, useful and productive today.”

  “Yeah, where were you last night? I heard you come in pretty late. Out with Robert?”

  Robert? Who was Robert? Oh yeah, the guy she’d been dating off and on for a year. “No, Carol and I went over to Collinsville.”

  “Have any fun?”

  She thought for a moment and smiled. In an odd way, yes, she’d had a lot of fun but she had no idea how to describe it. “It was okay,” she said.

  “I’m meeting Cathy in a little while and we’re going to eat and then go to an early movie. Want to tag along?”

  Wow, that sounded like oodles of fun, she thought. She liked her brother’s girlfriend pretty well, but she was one of those people who kept urging her to get out more, meet some new people, she wasn’t getting any younger. Come to think of it, she didn’t like Cathy all that much.

  Alice said no thanks, got a bottle of water and said she was going to go shower. She was halfway down the hall when David called out “Oh – before I forget. When I was at the game, Ryan said to tell you hello.”

  Alice turned and went back to the kitchen door. “Huh?”

  “Some guy I’ve never seen before said to say hello. Probably somebody you picked up last night and forgot in the haze of your hangover.”

  “I beg your pardon, I was not drunk. Well, not real drunk, anyway. What did this guy look like?”

  David looked annoyed. “I don’t know, a biker or something. It’s not like I was paying real close attention.”

  “Long hair, beard, blue eyes?” Alice was getting excited.

  “I have no idea. As I said, I didn’t—”

  “Who was he with?”

  “How should I know? What’s wrong with you?”

  “Come on, David, think. It’s important to me, don’t ask why right now. Just think.”

  David stared out the window over the sink for a minute. “Harry. When I was loading the scouts into the van, I saw him getting into a car with Harry.”

  “Harry. Which Harry? Harry the dentist or Harry the shortstop?”

  “The shortstop. Damn, you should have seen him today. Incredible catch in the third—”

  “Where were they going?”

  “Have you completely lost your mind? Settle down before I have to take you to the emergency room.”

  Alice took a deep breath, but her heart was thumping and she saw the hand holding her water bottle shaking a bit. She thought for a moment. So, apparently he did
have a friend in town; he’d probably come in to see the game, and if so, he was most likely sitting in JT’s at this very moment, drinking and hollering with the Flyers. “I’ve changed my mind I’m coming with you I have to shower wait for me,” she yelled in one breath as she ran upstairs.

  ***

  Every ten minutes or so, Ryan found himself subjected to another violent mood swing, alternating between soaring optimism and fathomless despair. Alcohol might possibly be a contributing factor, he’d thought, feeling very wise and cleverly self-reflective. He was drunk and getting drunker.

  Of course it had turned out that “everybody” was not there, but it had been one hell of a happy crowd, with everyone competing to buy yet another round of drinks. At some point he’d lost track of the beers shoved into his hand and toasts drunk, and after that, it was hard to remember all the girls he’d talked to, danced with, and held on his lap. For such a small town, there seemed to be an inordinate number of pretty girls.

  Regular Ryan would have been delighted to find out exactly what the girl currently draped over him had in mind. But the Ryan he’d known for thirty-four years had vanished, and he heard himself asking his companion if she knew a blonde with an ugly yellow rain hat who might work on Main Street. “Somewhere down that way,” he said, gesturing extravagantly and encompassing half the town. “Lives over near the park?”

  “No,” the girl said stonily, removing her arm from his shoulders and sitting up straight.

  Might have been a little clumsy there, he thought. In atonement he smiled, very winningly it seemed to him, and said, “You’re a terrific dancer.”

  She pushed her chair back a little and displayed a foot in a neon-pink walking cast. Her eyes glittered for a moment and then she grinned. “I guess you’re further gone than I thought – even if I could get anywhere with you, I’d have to worry about that whole consent thing.”

  Using his shoulder for leverage, she stood, telling him to sit tight, the girl he was looking for would probably walk in soon. “Strange things happen around here,” she added and hobbled away.

  About fifteen minutes later he was leaning back against the jukebox, both his hands on the hips of yet another girl, when he looked over and saw the brother trying to get a drink at the still-crowded bar. And beside him, the girl -- staring straight at Ryan with no expression at all. He lifted his arm in a foolish wave, but her face didn’t change and as he took a step towards her, she turned away, heading towards the door.

  The girl who’d been telling him her life story while grinding against him caught at his arm, asking, “Where are you—” but he shook her off, saying he had to get some air.

  A large group stood up from their table and paused to wave and shout goodbyes around the room, clogging the aisle. Ryan began to weave through the obstacle course of tables, dancers, and conversational knots of people, ignoring pleas from various sources to sit down, have another.

  By the time he made the street, she had disappeared again but he heard a car door thunk about half a block up and he started running. A black station wagon backed out of spot about twenty yards ahead and lurched as the driver slammed on the brakes to reverse gears.

  She began to speed away, then unexpectedly slowed as she passed him and he took a step off the curb. The passenger window slid down; she didn’t speak, just looked directly into his eyes, flicked up her middle finger and drove off. Flabbergasted, Ryan sat down on the edge of the curb and put his head in his hands. Well, he thought, I guess that’s that.

  ***

  Alice turned the corner and immediately pulled over and parked in the library lot. She was as furious as she imagined she’d be if she caught a husband in bed with another woman, and she didn’t give a damn if that happened to be a rational reaction or not. Who did this clown think he was, anyway?

  While she’d been grubbing around in that stupid garden all morning, she’d spent most of the time wondering what he’d be like in bed. Too rough, too fast? Too sweet, too gentle? No, she thought now, probably just too fucking busy thinking about his twelve other girlfriends. She blew the horn in frustration and found the blaring noise in the empty lot calmed her somewhat, so she did it again.

  Some sort of custodian in coveralls appeared at the front doors to the library and peered through the glass, so she put the car in gear and drove home carefully. Pulling into the driveway, she remembered David and Cathy, stranded back in town.

  Well, they could walk to the movies, and walk home for all she cared. She yanked the screen door open, nearly pulling it off the hinges and once inside, kicked viciously at the stupid hat tree David insisted on keeping beside the door. Then she ran upstairs, threw herself on her bed, and wept.

  Chapter Five – Monday

  She appeared in the kitchen in the morning wearing her navy suit and a lot of makeup, which did nothing to disguise her red eyes. David glanced up from his cereal bowl. “Court today?”

  “That property line dispute.”

  “Oh, yeah. You going to win?”

  She poured herself a cup of coffee, sat listlessly and shrugged. “I suppose so. I just hope it doesn’t take all day – Johnson’s on the bench.”

  “It’ll take all day. Are you feeling all right? I really think you’re coming down with something.”

  “No, no, I’m okay. Probably allergies or something.”

  “Well, take it easy. I’m driving out to see Phil about that grazing rights thing and then I’ll be in the office. Meet me there and we’ll eat in town?”

  Alice didn’t give a rat’s ass where she ate. Or about anything else, come to think of it. “Sounds good, see you then,” she said and left.

  It was nearly six when she finally got back to Hope Falls and the office was dark and locked. She went in anyway, sat at her desk without switching on the lights and thought about her day. She had won the case, but it seemed unlikely her client would be recommending her to his friends. Twice she’d had to ask the judge to repeat a question and later he’d even asked if she needed a recess. She knew she couldn’t go on this way, that for three days she’d been deluding herself and behaving like a fool.

  What exactly, had really happened? She had seen an attractive man on the street. She had concocted elaborate fantasies about him. It had turned out he was not The One. So big deal. The whole thing had been extraordinarily silly and it was time to forget about it. Funny thing was, she knew there was something she needed to do first.

  David hadn’t left a note, which meant he was waiting for her across the street. She could call him, of course, tell him she’d changed her mind and decided to go straight home, but that felt cowardly and only postponed the inevitable. It was better to just get this over with. Because she somehow knew, was one hundred percent certain, that That Guy was also across the street in the bar.

  ***

  He was. And right now, Ryan was feeling absolutely terrific. Calm, optimistic, and though he wasn’t exactly sure what the word meant – centered. At least he now had something that vaguely resembled a plan.

  This morning, as he’d nursed his coffee in the café, his devastating hangover seemed to be just what he deserved and he’d almost enjoyed his misery. Oddly enough, he felt he’d also deserved the “fuck you” he’d gotten from the girl last night – as though he really had betrayed her.

  At noon he’d gotten into the car and headed towards that larger town he’d bowled in, stopping at a roadside market with a hand-painted sign that read “Beer Bait Sandwiches.” Then he’d chosen a highway that seemed to lead away from civilization and driven until the stores and gas stations petered out and the road began to climb.

  Enormous boulders and the majestic pines crowded both sides of the pavement; now and again he would catch a glimpse of sparkling blue somewhere off to his left. About ten miles along, Ryan spotted a turnout, swung in and switched off the ignition.

  The faint ticking of his engine only magnified the impressive silence surrounding him. He got out of the car, and absorbed in the
overwhelming view, crossed the crunching gravel almost to the guardrail, then took two hasty steps back from a sheer drop of hundreds of feet. How very symbolic, he’d thought. Ever since he’d driven into town, he’d felt on the brink of something, something important.

  He sat on the hood of the car, ate his sandwiches, stared at the picture postcard-perfect mountains before him and let his mind wander. Memories of the tech-obsessed, self-involved life he’d been living were already getting a little fuzzy around the edges, like scenes from a movie he couldn’t quite remember. And the future was obviously even hazier, but that was a fact that mattered less and less. Maybe he’d just travel for a while. And then someday, a house with a view like this. But first, of course …

  On the way down the mountain, he’d formulated a plan so simple he couldn’t understand why it hadn’t occurred to him before. For the fiftieth time he wondered what sort of brain haze had taken over last Friday night.

  All he had to do was drive over to her house, ring the doorbell, stand back on the porch so he didn’t look threatening and say … say … Keep it simple, stupid, he told himself. Just say hi, I saw you in town and it might sound weird but I’ve been thinking about you. So before I leave tomorrow I wondered if you’d like to get a coffee or something. Even if she flipped him off again or threatened to call the cops, he’d survive. And then he could move on, knowing he’d tried.

  When he’d gotten back to town at four-thirty, it had seemed unlikely she’d be home from wherever she worked. He decided to clean up, get something else to eat, and go over around … six, he thought. Sure, nothing threatening about six, it would still be light outside, nice guys all rang the doorbells of women they didn’t know at six. He recognized the danger of over-thinking this less-than-ideal plan.

  JT’s was pleasantly empty just after five -- one couple at a table over in the corner and one man down at the far end of the bar. For some reason he wasn’t at all surprised to see it was the brother and he walked over to take the neighboring stool. As Ryan sat, the guy looked over, away, then back again. “Oh, hey. Alice’s friend, from the ballgame, right?”