Lacy's End

by Victoria Schwimley

  Alice was just putting the stuffed carcass of a turkey into the oven. “If you give me fifteen minutes to get ready.”

  “Okay, rendezvous in fifteen in front of the barn,” Allen said and swept out the door.

  Lacy shoved the last of her toast into her mouth and washed it down with juice.

  “You’re going to want a heavier jacket than what you had on last night,” Brett said. “We have plenty of extras,” he added when he saw the stricken look on Brenda’s face. She relaxed.

  As they were walking out the door, Lacy wondered if Doctor Doom Jr. would be accompanying them. To her horror, he was leaning against the barn. A jacket covered his tee shirt, but Lacy could still see the chains hanging from his neck. At least he can beat off the bears, she thought, grinning. Then suddenly, she froze…she hadn’t thought about bears. She wondered if there were bears in the woods of Iowa. She couldn’t remember from her lessons but thought there were. Ethan was jumping around Chase, trying to catch his attention, but Chase ignored him.

  Allen was the last to arrive. He apologized and explained Charles had called just as he was walking out the door. He looked at Pammy. “He said he’s sorry, but he won’t be able to make it today. He has a patient in critical condition and doesn’t think she’s going to make it. He wants to be there when all the family arrives.”

  Pammy nodded but couldn’t hide the disappointment on her face. She knew when she married him how important his patients were. She was proud of him for caring so much, but it didn’t stop her from missing him.

  “Daddy’s not coming?” Ethan asked.

  “I’m afraid not, sweetie.”

  He didn’t seem upset by it, but he bounced back to annoy Chase some more.

  “Can we go now?” Chase asked. “I’m tired of standing here.”

  “Wait a minute, Chase. Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  Chase sighed, shook his head. “We’re only going to the pond, Grandpa. It’s not that far.”

  “Even so,” Brett said. He took out a list from his pocket and read aloud. “Snake bite kit?”

  “Check,” Allen said, holding it up for proof.

  “Bandages and ointments,” he read.

  “Check,” Pammy said.

  “Water?”

  “Check, Grandpa,” Ethan said and turned to display a backpack that Lacy assumed was filled with water bottles.

  “Topical creams?”

  They all gawked, and then looked side-to-side at each other.

  “Who’s supposed to get the topical creams?”

  Alice frowned and rummaged through the first-aid kit. “We must be out.”

  Brett shook his head. “We can’t go on the hike without a complete kit.”

  “Aw, come on,” they all moaned. “It’s only to the pond.”

  “Albert Hicks was attacked by a snake while going to his trash can. We don’t take any chances.”

  “Nobody knows for sure it was a snake,” Bradley protested. “In fact, the entire town thinks it’s pretty farfetched.”

  “Just the same,” Brett said, “something attacked him. He’s lucky to be alive.”

  They all frowned. Lacy raised her hand. “I have topical ointment in my overnight bag.” She didn’t want to mention why she had it, but she ran up to her room to get it, taking the stairs by twos. She returned panting, holding the tube for inspection and adding it to the first-aid kit.

  “Hooray for Lacy,” Ethan chirped. Chase rolled his eyes.

  “Isn’t it a little cold for snakes, though?” Lacy asked.

  They all shot her a sarcastic look. She winced, repeating Brett’s earlier comments, “We take no chances.”

  He continued through the list. Thankfully, everything else was present.

  “Off we go,” Brett said, leading the line. It reminded Lacy of grade school when all the kids took a turn at being the line leader whenever the class needed to go somewhere.

  “I like him,” Lacy said, coming in line beside her mother.

  Brenda nodded. “He’s funny.”

  Lacy fell behind, allowing her mother to catch up to Allen. Chase sidled in beside her. “Getting winded yet?” he asked.

  “I'm all right.”

  “Nobody can keep up with Grandpa. He does okay for an old man.”

  “Your grandfather is not an old man.”

  Chase laughed. “Depends on what you consider old.”

  “He seems young enough to me.”

  “You go to school?” Chase asked.

  “Of course I go to school. Don’t you?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Judging from your grammar I’d say you skip a lot.”

  He laughed. “You don’t like me too much, do ya?”

  “Does it matter whether I like you?”

  “I just figured since we’re going to be here for four days and all, it would be nice to have someone my own age to talk to. I mean, there’s Ethan…but he’s just a kid. He don't have anything important to say.”

  She sighed. “Doesn’t.”

  “Doesn’t what?”

  “The word is doesn’t, not don’t. If we’re going to converse, you need to speak correctly.”

  He held his hands out and shrugged. “I’ll try.”

  She stopped walking and looked him square in the face. “Look, Chase. You come from a brilliant gene pool. I know you’ve had an upscale education. This slang talk is all a show, but it doesn’t impress me. Nor, for that matter, do I care if I talk to you or not, so either speak proper English or don’t speak to me at all.”

  “Touchy.”

  She heaved an exasperated sigh and walked on, leaving Chase laughing behind her.

  They were just rounding a bend when the pond came into view. She had to admit it was beautiful. A family of geese stood on the surface of the thin ice. She was surprised. She’d thought it was too cold for them. Shouldn’t they have migrated to a warmer climate? The trees stood tall, although they were barren of leaves. A rope hung from one of the sturdier branches. Lacy visualized little Ethan, and perhaps even Chase, swinging from it in the warmth of summer. Large boulders jutted up through the surface—perfect for sunbathing, she mused.

  “You were kind of rough on him, weren’t you? He was only trying to be friendly.”

  She looked over, and a huge grin touched her face. “Jake! You came.”

  “You needed me, and here I am. So, what’s happening?”

  “I can’t believe this holiday. Thanksgiving, and I’m hundreds of miles from home. Not that it’s a bad thing. Home isn’t exactly a Bing Crosby Christmas.”

  He laughed. “Bing Crosby? Are you even old enough to know who Bing Crosby was?”

  “We have cable, you know. I watch him every Christmas. He’s on one of those channels that plays a bunch of really old stuff.” She sighed. “Aw, Christmas. I suppose that’s going to be weird, too.”

  “Are you having a miserable time?”

  She shook her head. “No, not miserable—it’s just weird. I don’t do well with change and all that.”

  “Any random thoughts running through your head lately?”

  She laughed. “So now you’re a psychiatrist?”

  “Better.”

  “How so?”

  “Better because I know you from the inside.”

  She puzzled this, and then Jake was gone, and her mother stood beside her.

  “Is the sun getting to you?”

  “Because I’m talking to myself?”

  Brenda nodded.

  “I do it all the time.”

  “Is that healthy?”

  She frowned. “I can think of worse things for my health.”

  Brenda blushed. Despite the condition of her cheeks, already reddened by the cold temperature, her face turned crimson.

  Lacy pursed her lips together. “I’m sorry, Mom. That wasn’t nice.”

  “Are you upset that we came on this trip?”

  She shook her head. “No. It’s just that….this is all s
o out of the box for us. This time last year you and I were stuffing a turkey that we knew Dad wouldn’t appreciate. He would have his nose stuck in a ballgame of some sort, and we would sit down to dinner—he would be drunk, and you and I toasting the holiday with iced tea.” She spread her arms. “Now we’re hundreds of miles from all that I know. I took a walk on Thanksgiving morning on a freezing-cold day and carried on a conversation with a wannabe gang member. Who, by the way, didn’t even use the proper gang slang.”

  Brenda smiled, and despite her frustration, Lacy joined her. “I guess it does sound exciting, though.”

  “Well, at least we don’t have to cook the meal.”

  Lacy dropped her head. A silence fell between them, and then she said, “I like cooking the meal with you.”

  Brenda sighed. “I know it’s different, honey, and I know our lives are topsy-turvy right now, but it will soon get better.”

  Lacy looked sideways at Brenda. “Will it?”

  They didn’t do much at the pond, just walked around mostly. There was the thinnest layer of ice on the surface, so thin in fact that Ethan’s rocks made a sputter and then a splash as they hit.

  She saw Allen watching her and wondered if her mother had told him about their conversation. He smiled when their eyes met, and she felt sorry for having been rude to her mother earlier—especially since she’d been through just as much as she had.

  Allen turned from Lacy, grabbed Ethan around the waist, and swung him over his shoulder. She smiled as the child giggled gleefully, and then her smile froze. Standing on a hill, high above the pond stood a tall, stocky, familiar figure. She whipped her head around trying to catch her mother’s gaze—but her mother wasn’t there. On a rock at the edge of the pond, Brenda was engaged in a conversation with Bradley.

  Lacy turned back, but the figure was gone. Had she imagined it? Had her father really been there—or was he at home watching his usual holiday football and getting drunk? “Jake,” she whispered. “Jake, where are you?” Then he was there. “Did you see him, Jake?”

  Jake shook his head. “I didn’t,” he said.

  A tear slipped down her cheek, and her voice choked as she said, “I know he was there.”

  Her mother called to her. She turned and waved, wiping the tear from her cheek. “I have to go now, Jake.” She walked away, leaving Jake standing there watching out over the pond.

  The first thing she did when they got back to the house was to call her home number. Even after letting it ring twenty times, nobody answered. “Pick up. Pick up,” she said. A thought came to her. Maybe, since she and her mother weren’t there, he offered to take patrol—letting some poor young officer spend the holiday with his or her family. That wasn’t likely, but one never knew. Perhaps their absence from the household had made her dad think about how badly he had treated them.

  She dialed her father’s direct line. After the fifth ring, the call switched to the operator. “This is Lacy Waldrip. Is my dad there?”

  “Sorry, hon, but he’s on vacation until after the holiday. Do you want me to get someone else for you?”

  “No, thank you,” she said and hung up. She debated whether she should tell her mother or Allen. She doubted herself. Did she really think her father had followed them all the way to Iowa?

  She was still arguing with herself when Chase knocked on the door and entered without waiting for a reply.

  “Have you ever heard of waiting for an invitation?” She asked.

  “It’s my room.”

  “Oh, really… I thought you lived in New York with your father.”

  “Well, okay it’s not my room, but it’s my room when I come to visit.”

  She cocked her head sideways in a mocking gesture, and then she laughed.

  He laughed, too, and for a moment, the tension between them eased. “So what’s the deal with you and your mom and my Uncle Allen?”

  She picked up a sketchbook and curled up on the bed. “He’s just a friend. He’s helping us through some stuff.” She began to sketch, not wanting to look at him.

  “They look like they’re in love.”

  “I suppose they might be.”

  “Does that bother you? My Uncle Allen’s a great guy.”

  She turned the previous question around on him, changing the subject. “So, what’s with you and the Doctor Doom getup?”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know what you’s talking ‘bout.”

  She laughed. “There you go again with the grammar thing.”

  “I talk how I’s talk.”

  She shook her head. “Sometimes. Other times you speak clear English, and your…” she made air quotes, “gangsta slang is pathetic.” She eyed him quizzically. “Whose attention are you trying to get?”

  He plopped down on the bed, next to her. “My dad doesn’t pay me a lick of attention since Mom died. I’ve changed my hair, my clothes, my speech—even my friends, but he just ignores me.”

  She reached out and touched his arm. “I’m sorry. I know that has to hurt.”

  “He blames me for her death.”

  “How so?”

  “I was at football practice, and Mom came to pick me up. I was lagging behind because the guys were razzing me, and we were having a lot of fun. I had just started dating this new chick, and they were all jealous and stuff. I just about had those guys thinking I was something special when my mom came marching into the gym and pulled me by the scruff of my neck.” Lacy laughed. “It’s not funny,” he said, “I was really embarrassed.” Then a dark cloud fell across his face, and his voice grew somber. “I was so mad when I got home that I just dropped all my football gear by the front door. Mom was locking up the house that night, and I guess it was too dark. She tripped over my gear and hit her head on a marble table. She died from a head trauma.”

  Lacy’s mouth dropped open, as her eyes went wide. “That’s horrible. I’m sorry for laughing.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, and that’s why Dad blames me.” He raised his voice. Anger flashed in his eyes. “I blame myself, too.”

  Lacy didn’t know how to respond. She wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of girl. Who would be with the life she’d had? So she just sat there, looking at him. He stared back at her. Then to her surprise he said, “We’re both a couple of wounded animals, aren’t we, Lacy?”

  All she could do was look at him. Then a sharp rap sounded on the door, and Allen opened it. “Dinner’s served.” He looked from one of them to the other. “Is everything okay in here?”

  “Just fine, Allen,” Lacy said. “We’ll be right down.”

  He hesitated. Then nodding, he backed out the door and closed it softly behind him.

  They stared at each other for a moment. Then wordlessly, he got off the bed and walked to the door. He turned. “You coming?”

  They walked to the stairs together. He was just about to take his first step when she grabbed his arm. He looked down at her hand. “What?”

  She looked around, checking for eavesdroppers. “Can you get me a gun?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She gestured impatiently. “I need a gun.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

  “That’s my business.”

  “Not if you’re going to murder my family in their sleep.”

  She shook her head impatiently. “I’m not going to murder your family.”

  “Do you even know how to shoot a gun?”

  “You can teach me.”

  “Oh, so, you not only want me to steal a gun from my grandfather, you want me to show you how to murder my family in their sleep.”

  He was smiling, but she was not. Suddenly he stopped, raised his eyebrows. “You’re not kidding, are you?”

  She shook her head but said nothing.

  He grabbed her by the arm and propelled her backward, toward the bedroom. “What the hell do you mean to do with it?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “Well, you can’t take it home on a plan
e with you, so that means you intend to use it here.”

  She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Only if I have to.”

  ***

  When Lacy and Chase arrived downstairs, Alice was seating everyone. Oh please don’t put me by Chase, she thought. She didn’t want to spend the meal with him trying to pry out of her the reason she wanted the gun.

  “You sit here, Lacy,” she said, indicating a chair next to Chase. Lacy groaned inwardly and tried not to show her disappointment. Chase grinned at her and patted the chair next to him. “We don’t want to bore you young people with our dull, grownup conversation.”

  “This is the strangest Thanksgiving holiday I’ve ever had,” Lacy said under her breath.

  “Seems pretty normal to me,” Chase said.

  Lacy grinned sarcastically. “Could that be because it’s your family?”

  “I hope you don’t mind if we say a blessing,” Alice said. “I know some people don’t, and we don’t want to make people uncomfortable, but—”

  “It’s fine,” Brenda said. We’re used to saying a blessing at dinner.”

  Alice relaxed. “Oh good. Allen, would you lead us?”

  Brenda grinned when Allen made a low groan meant only for her ears. She squeezed his hand. The family joined hands and, to Brenda’s surprise, Allen recited a tender prayer about being thankful for blessings he never expected to receive. Alice must have been pleased because she smiled at Allen.

  “Allen tells us you’re a caterer,” Pammy said.

  “Well,” Brenda said, blushing, “I’m really just starting out.”

  “She’s a fabulous cook,” Allen said.

  Lacy couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw Alice narrow her eyes in her mother’s direction.

  Chase leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Grandma’s highly competitive.”

  The meal was delicious enough and had all her favorites: turkey, cranberry jello, stuffing, hot-buttered rolls, and pumpkin pie for dessert. But it wasn’t her mother’s cooking. Lacy tried to show enthusiasm, but she ended up tuning out the adults’ conversation. She couldn’t stop thinking about Chase and his reaction to the gun.

  Throughout the meal, they kept raising their eyes to meet, and then would look quickly away. It was as if by their shared secret, and Chase’s painful confession, they had formed somewhat of a bond, an alliance at the very least. Neither of them spoke of the pain again, and when dinner was over, they took Ethan into town to see a movie. The adults enjoyed a rousing game of Trivial Pursuit and barely noticed the young people leaving.