by Greg Enslen
He turned and smiled at Doris, stood up from his barstool, and started fishing change out of his pocket.
The phone should have surprised her, but it didn’t. The phone rang and rang, but she didn’t get up from the couch. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, not now and not ever. Bethany had spent the entire day lying there on the couch in her sweats, mindlessly flipping the channels and wishing her life were different.
She’d slept there on the couch last night, too, wearing the same sweats, but she didn’t care. Last night the cops had come and woke her up and asked her to come with them, and when the cop car had pulled up in front of David’s old house, Bethany had had no idea what was going on. And then they had led her into the busy crime scene, the house surrounded by cops and police cars and that yellow crime scene tape, and the policemen had taken her into the garage and asked her to identify Aunt Gloria‘s body.
Bethany couldn’t remember doing it - her mind couldn’t remember anything but a mixed up jumble of emotions, wondering what was going on and why these things were happening. After Bethany nodded and numbly turned away, the cops had taken her into Aunt Gloria’s kitchen and interviewed her at length about her and David and their lives, and finally the cops had all the answers they wanted and brought her back home. And she’d come in and lay down on the couch, and she hadn’t moved since except to eat a little lunch and use the bathroom.
She’d tried to reach her parents on the cruise ship but they hadn’t been in their cabin, and the concierge Bethany spoke to had said that they would probably not be available until Friday or Saturday at the earliest - they were off on some snowmobile trip out of Anchorage and could not be reached. She left an urgent message for them to call anyway, but somehow she knew that the ringing phone wasn’t them.
And there was no one else she really wanted to talk to except for her parents and David, and it surely wasn’t him.
No one could help her; no one could make her feel any better, no matter what they had to say. It didn’t matter how many people told you they felt bad for you - it didn’t change how you felt. And of course they could never truly understand your feelings or thoughts; they could only sympathize with you or wish you well. But it didn’t help. In fact, it made it all worse.
Bethany’s world had come crashing down around her in the past 24 hours.
She had reported Lisa missing on Monday morning. Had it been just the day before yesterday? It seemed like a hundred years ago that she had talked to Lisa, asking about the toppings she would want on her pizza. God, that seemed so unimportant now, with all that had happened. But ever since, Bethany had found it very difficult to think about anything else. The TV had nothing interesting to say, nothing new about Lisa or about Gloria and Abe who had been found last night. The TV station here in town was covering the story pretty much all the time, and reporters had started calling her home earlier. She had hung up on the first few, another reason not to answer the phone.
The phone rang and rang and rang, but she ignored it. She didn’t want to talk to anybody, didn’t want to do anything. After six or eight rings the phone was quiet for a moment and then began ringing again. She’d disconnected the machine - the last thing she needed right now was a tape full of “I’m sorry" from people who weren’t really sorry and could never understand exactly how she felt. And full of messages from reporters or people at work or people who wanted to know if she’d heard from David, wanting to know if he knew yet what had happened to his Aunt.
As if things weren’t bad enough with Lisa being found murdered, there had been two more deaths in Liberty in the past 48 hours - this town was starting to get dangerous to live in. Aunt Gloria had been the only family David Beaumont had ever known, and the fact that he wasn’t here to know about it tore her up inside. Abe Foreman was a friend of his Aunt’s and one of the town’s leading businessmen, and they’d been found dead together in her home, a place that she’d heard David talk about countless times. She had even been over there a couple of times when they had visited his Aunt, and she’d talked to Gloria more than a few times in the months when she’d been dating David. And Bethany had just said ‘Hello’ to her on Sunday morning - the day before she died, according to the police. And now she was dead, as dead as Lisa.
And nobody seemed to know what was happening. There had been no official word yet from the police department because they hadn’t been able to track down David yet, but the news about the deaths had gotten around fast, faster than expected. The TV people were already broadcasting the names of the victims and speculating about the cause of death, alternating that sensational story with news about the approaching hurricane. Was the whole world going to hell?
The phone went quiet again and Bethany relaxed, laying back down and reaching for the remote. Two or three weeks ago she would’ve been excited about the new season of TV shows starting up, but now she simply stared at the screen, uncomprehending, trying futily to lose herself in the fantasy, trying to escape her hopeless life. And when the station broke in with news reports on the deaths in her little town or with pictures of storm damage in North Carolina, Bethany simply muted it. She didn’t want to hear any more.
David sat back down at the counter and began picking at his food again. It was cold, but suddenly he was very angry and wanted to eat and sleep and get on the road tomorrow. She was probably out with some guy and didn’t want to hear from him. Why else would the machine be disconnected? He’d talked to that metal box so many times, sometimes just calling to hear her voice as it told him to leave a message. Her parents were still in Alaska, and it was a Wednesday night. Where was she?
Doris stopped in front of him, coffee pot in her hand. “You done already, son?”
“She’s not there. Probably out running around, having a good time with her friends or some guy.” He finished the last of his coffee and pulled out his wallet, counting out bills for the tab. He knew she was looking at him, and when he was finished counting out his money, he looked back up at her. “I’ll call her tomorrow, or the next day.”
She was shaking her head, her voice low as she leaned in close to him. “No you won’t, and you know it. You’ll be pissed off tomorrow just like you’re pissed off right now, and you’ll find an excuse not to call her, and that’ll be it, right?”
He knew she was right, and he hated her for it, for her ability to squirm around inside his head. “Well, what should I do?” he asked curtly, his voice suddenly angry. “You seem to know more about our relationship than I do, so what should I do? You want me to just keep calling and calling...”
She was staring at him with an expression that almost scared him, as if she was seriously thinking about leaping over the counter and bashing his head in with the steaming pot of coffee she was holding. She took a deep breath, and then set the coffee pot down and turned to him.
“Listen, boy, you’re about as dumb as they come. Don’t you think she misses you as much as you miss her? She’s not out with some other guy - she’s probably sitting around being depressed over you. If you had one lick of brains in that thick head of yours, you’d go call her again and keep calling till she picked up.”
David was quiet, embarrassed that he’d yelled at Doris - on some level he knew that she really was only trying to help.
“Yeah, I know. I guess I’m just stubborn. I want to talk to her, and I want her to beg me to come back. I know its childish, but hearing that might bring me back. Is that stubborn?”
She smiled. “No more than the next man. Now, go call her and I’ll cash you out.”
He nodded and headed off for the phone again.
Bethany was up, walking into the kitchen with her blanket wrapped around her legs when the phone rang again, very loud right next to her. It made her jump, but after a second she ignored it, heading to get some ice cream - but then she got to the ‘fridge and remembered she didn’t have any because Lisa was supposed to bring some with her when she’d come over.
Funny how the brain can forget th
e simple things.
The phone in the kitchen wailed at her to pick it up. It rang and rang and rang, whining at her in its shrill voice. She ignored it, walking back into the living room, and there the cordless sitting in its cradle on the end table jangled, pleading with her. The sound was starting to give her a headache. She suddenly reached out and grabbed the phone to chuck it across the room but in her haste her pinkie hit the “CALL” button and silenced the ringing in mid-tone. She rolled her eyes and reached to hit the “END” button when she heard a voice on the other end.
“Bethany?” the voice came, weakly, and she put the phone to her ear. It had sounded like David, but that was impossible.
“David?”
“Bethany, is that you?” It was David’s voice and Bethany was suddenly so elated she felt all of the strength leave her. Her legs buckled underneath her, suddenly unable to support her, and as she crumpled to the floor she was thinking that it was all just too much...
“Bethany?” he screamed into the phone, and some of the customers out in the restaurant turned around to look at him, wondering what the crazy kid was yelling about.
“Bethany, pick up the phone! What’s wrong?”
Doris watched from the register, suddenly sure that things for the boy had taken a very nasty turn. Well, maybe he’d be able to deal with it better than Bird had. Too bad, too - she had been a great kid, Doreen thought, as she pulled the boy’s change from the register and set it down next to his plate - she would have taken it but there was still food on it and she wasn’t sure if he was done or not. She filled his empty coffee cup and glanced at the kid before moving on to help her other customers.
The boy seemed to be talking in normal tones now, but she felt that things were far from calm for him. But he’d been pretty excited before, like something was really wrong. No, she usually had a pretty good idea about things like this, like she had known that things were going to end up bad for her sister. And for this kid, she felt things were just starting to get interesting.
She’d hit her head on the way down to the floor, knocking some sense into her, and his screaming voice had brought her back around quickly.
“David, is that really you?” A hundred emotions washed over her, but the most important was how much she missed him, how much she needed him. Just hearing his voice had helped a little.
“Yeah, Bethany, it’s me. I know you probably don’t want to hear from he, but I just wanted to tell you what a fool I was. I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and I think that maybe going to California is a bad idea. I think...I think maybe I’m just running away from my problems, running away from the things I need to fix in my life. Can you understand?”
He gripped the thick metal phone cord, one of those that keeps people from cutting off the handset and stealing it, and twisted it around his finger. She was crying on the other end, and he was confused. He’d expected a reaction, but nothing like this, right? “Honey, you okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, the tears coming fast now. “It’s just that two days ago I would’ve given anything to hear you say that, and now...now the problems we had just seem so small, so easy to fix compared to...” she said, the tears slacking off a little.
“What? What happened, Bethany?” He was very worried now.
The tears started up again, this time much harder, and the words came out so fast that he could barely understand them. And they made no sense anyway. “Oh, David, I can’t believe it. It’s just so horrible. Lisa is gone, murdered. And your Aunt is dead, and Abe Foreman, too. The town is going crazy. And the cops are looking for you because they need to interview you about...”
A few minutes later, David stood with the phone in his hand, the conversation over. His Aunt was dead, found by the cops on Tuesday night, dead in her house, in the garage, of carbon monoxide poisoning. Bethany had been called in by the cops to...identify the body...because David wasn’t around.
Abe Foreman had been in the house too, dead, evidently having fallen from the balcony and smashing into the glass coffee table in the living room. How many times had he walked past that balcony, thinking about what it would be like to fall off of there? And that coffee table - how many times had Aunt Gloria yelled at him for putting his feet up on it, yelling at him to not get it dirty even though David could point out a dozen white stains from the spilled vodka?
And Lisa Stevens, Bethany’s best friend, was dead, too. And not just dead - she’d been found murdered. Her body left in her car out by the Mall. Left naked and dead in that little red Tercel of hers that she loved so much - how many times had he seen her get into that car and drive away, her music cranked up? He’d even ridden in it once, before he’d broken up with Bethany and Lisa had started hating him. He remembered how she had hated him after the breakup, and how she wouldn’t talk to him, and how once she had worn a really tight skirt and Bethany had yelled at him for looking at her legs a little too much.
The news washed over him like a tidal wave, threatening to tear apart his mind and dash the tired remnants against the rocky shoals of madness.
After a few moments the initial shock had faded enough to actually THINK about what she’d said. And he could tell she was in shock, too - she’d hardly recognized his voice. With him on his way to California and her parents gone on their cruise, she had no one to talk to, no one to grieve with. Lisa had been her best friend, her confidant, her only ear when he’d left her. And now she was dead. And Bethany had blamed herself, babbling on about how they were supposed to get together on Sunday night because Bethany had been upset about David’s leaving, and Lisa had never shown up. Bethany was blaming herself, but David suddenly felt like it was all his fault - if he hadn’t left, Lisa wouldn’t have been out on Sunday night and would probably be alive now.
He stepped away from the phone area and walked unsteadily over to his seat at the counter, ignorant of the various eyes on him, curious about him and his shouted words earlier.
Sitting down, David grabbed the coffee cup with his change beside it and downed the entire cup in one huge gulp, ignoring the heat and spilling a little from his chin onto his “Rocky and Bullwinkle” T-shirt.
Doris came back over to fill the cup, but when she saw the look on his face, she set the pot down and reached out, taking one of his hands in hers. She usually had a feeling about people, and this time she’d been right - things for this boy were going very badly, and from the look on his face, they were only going to get worse.
“Oh my, dear. What happened?”
He looked up at her, but the words came slowly. To her, he looked like he was somehow crying and holding it back at the same time. A manly expression, holding in your emotions like that, but eventually they would all come out, she was sure.
“I have...I have to get back...right now. My Aunt, she’s...dead. And Bethany’s best friend, she’s dead too.”
Wow, Doris thought. “Sounds like an unlucky town to live in. And here I’d thought you were upset about your girl.”
But it made his decision easier, she saw. His questions about things between him and his girl would have to wait, because he needed to return to his little town now anyway. And maybe over the days that it took him to resolve things, he would think about what was really important to him, and act on it. Not put it off, like Bird had done. Sometimes, bad things happened for a good reason.
“Here, have some more coffee, and I’ll heat this up and put it in a box, okay?” She filled up his cup again, spilling a little as her shaking hand pored, and whisked away the plate of omelet and bacon and hash browns, returning a couple of minutes later with a white to-go box.
“You sure you’ll be okay?” she asked, the concern very apparent on her face. For some reason she was taking this very hard - not nearly as upset as she had been when her sister had been dumped by Vincent Luciano and then gone on and killed herself. Why was this getting to her so bad?
This boy was handling it okay, even though he was dealing with events that he could not contro
l, things that were happening a long way away.
“Yeah,” David said, emptying the other cup of black coffee. He never drank black coffee, always lacing the coffee with heaping amounts of sugar and cream, but right now, he didn’t care one way or another. He was freaked out, that was sure, but no matter how you looked at it, he only had one option -- he had to get back to Liberty, and quick.
“Any chance I could get a couple big cups to go?”
She smiled and scurried off, bringing them back after only a minute or two. He thanked her and left, thinking about how things can change so quickly in one’s life. If he hadn’t gone in there for dinner, or if he hadn’t gotten Doris as his waitress, or if he’d waited for a table instead of sitting at the counter, he probably would’ve gone another day or two before he called Bethany, if he’d called her at all.
He’d read her big red binder and the pictures and words had deeply affected him, but realistically he would’ve gone at least another day before he would’ve called her. Bethany had said the cops were looking for him to inform him of Aunt Gloria‘s death because he was her only next of kin, but traveling across the country made a person hard to find, and he might not have gotten the news for several days.
David took the connecting glass corridor back to his room where he packed up the few things he had taken out of his suitcase. The walk through the glass corridor had shown him the night outside was clear, perfect for night traveling, but a few minutes of the news back in his room told him a different story - things were getting nasty all up and down the east coast, and the local weather guy in St. Louis couldn’t seem to forecast the local weather - he said that with the hurricane messing up weather patterns all over the eastern half of the country, the situation was very unpredictable.
Hurricane Mandy was supposed to make landfall very early in the morning and then move slowly across the Cape Hatteras region of North Carolina, heading straight for Virginia Beach. The thick, rain-swelled arms of the storm reached out for hundreds of miles in each direction, and heavy rain was already falling in Richmond. In the two days of driving that he estimated it would take to get home – it had taken him four days to get to St. Louis, but heading back he would only stop for coffee and catnaps – the storm would move in with force. It was around 9:00 p.m. on Wednesday night, and if he drove like an idiot, straight through, he might be able to make it into Liberty by Friday at midnight or early Saturday morning.