She smiled at his poor attempt to express himself. ‘It’s okay.’
‘I want to be with you.’
She kissed him. ‘You better get going.’
Michael finished his coffee and fetched Cully. She roused her feathers and when he offered her a piece of meat she took it, but with less enthusiasm than normal. He had half a rabbit carcass in his bag. He was going to let her eat it before he let her go so that she wouldn’t need to kill her own food for a few days, which would allow her a comfortable margin to get used to being free and having to hunt again.
Outside he put Cully on her perch in the back of the car and turned to Jamie. ‘Are you coming?’
Jamie avoided looking at him, but after a moment he got in the front of the car.
‘We’ll be a couple of hours,’ Michael said.
Susan smiled, ‘Good luck.’ As they left, she waved, but Jamie ignored her.
During the drive, Jamie was withdrawn. As they climbed through cold dark canyons of trees, he stared out of the window and refused to acknowledge any of Michael’s attempts to engage him. Eventually Michael gave up and they drove in silence. When they arrived at their usual place, Michael pulled over and turned off the engine, but when Jamie reached for the door Michael stopped him.
‘Wait, I want to talk to you. I think I know how you feel about what you saw. You think I’m taking your dad’s place, right?’ He tried to put himself in Jamie’s position. He knew there was some kind of internal conflict going on. He thought Jamie’s silence was a kind of refusal to think about his dad, and yet he resented anyone he thought was trying to take his dad’s place. As Michael looked at the boy, he pictured the man Jamie would become, knowing first-hand how repressed emotions could eat away at the subconscious like a cancer and surface later in a mess of self-destructive behavior. Michael thought about trying to explain some of what happened when he was a boy and how it had affected him. But how could he make a child understand what he barely understood himself?
Looking back in the light of all that had happened, Michael saw that his perceptions were formed over years, beginning when he was very young, and by the time he began to appreciate that his dad wasn’t the person he’d always believed him to be it was far too late. By then his perceptions were his reality. They were hard wired into him, and to acknowledge they were wrong meant his whole life was a lie, and so he buried the truth deep inside and set standards for himself that were impossible to keep.
But how could he explain any of that to Jamie?
‘Come on,’ he said, defeated. ‘Time to let Cully go.’
***
Rachel woke early, as the sky was beginning to lighten. She was in bed, curled up with the blankets pulled around her where she’d cried herself to sleep. She got up and went into the bathroom. She looked a mess. Her eyes were red, her mouth bruised where Pete had hit her, and when she brushed her teeth her gums were tender. She felt her teeth gingerly, hoping he hadn’t knocked any loose.
When she took a shower she turned the water up as hot as she could stand. She scrubbed her body until she was bright pink from head to toe, and washed her hair three times as if she was trying to wash away the wasted years of her life. Afterwards she dressed and went downstairs to make coffee.
Despite everything, she was worried about Pete. It amazed her that she could still feel that way, but there was a part of her that wouldn’t abandon him. She didn’t love him anymore. Whatever feelings were left had finally died, but neither did she hate him. She pitied him, and knew that he wasn’t bad, but weak, and he was still the father of her kids. She was afraid of what would happen when he woke up and remembered what he’d done. Afraid he might not be able to live with himself.
She called the yard, where the phone rang endlessly. It didn’t mean he wasn’t there. He could be passed out in the office. He might have drunk himself into a stupor after he left the house. Or he might just be letting the phone ring because he’d know it was her. She wanted to think that was so, but she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. Across the miles of wire she could sense he wasn’t there, and in her mind’s eye she saw the untidy little office with its cheap desk and dirty windows, and it was cold and empty.
She hung up and tried to think where he might have gone. She tried Red Parker’s place and let the phone ring and ring until he answered, his voice grouchy at being woken so early.
‘Yeah?’
‘Is Pete there, Red? This is Rachel.’
There was a pause, either while he got his scrambled thoughts together or while he considered what he ought to say to her, she couldn’t tell which.
‘He’s not here.’
‘Have you seen him?’
‘Not since last night.’
She had a feeling Parker was holding something back. ‘Listen, this is important. I’m really worried about him,’ she said.
He must’ve picked up something from her tone that made him think, because he hesitated for a good few long seconds.
‘Please, if he’s there, tell me. I just need to know he’s okay.’
‘He was here, but he ain’t now,’ Parker said. ‘Turned up late last night. He was talking crazy stuff, I don’t know, rambling I guess. Anyway he stayed on the couch, but I don’t know where he is now ‘cause I’m looking at the couch and he ain’t on it.’
It crossed her mind to wonder what Pete had told Parker, who she didn’t like. It made her skin creep to think that he might know what had happened.
‘Can you see if his truck’s still there?’ she said.
Parker went away and came back on the line. ‘It’s gone.’
‘Have you got any idea where he might have gone? Did he say anything?’
‘I don’t remember that well.’
‘Try,’ she said. ‘Pete isn’t thinking right. I’m scared he might do something.’
‘It was Hanson that set him off,’ Parker said.
‘Hanson? What do you mean?’
‘I mean it was Hanson told him he saw you with that Somers guy one night out at the Red Rooster. Pete was still talking about it when he turned up here last night. He was talking all kinds of stuff. Crazy talk.’
‘What kind of stuff?’ Rachel said, a feeling of dread growing inside her. ‘What did he say?’
‘It was just talk. I thought he’d sleep it off. All that stuff about what he was gonna do to Somers. I didn’t pay any attention.’
Rachel hung up the phone, stunned. Suddenly it wasn’t Pete she was worried about. She ran outside and got into her car.
***
Susan was getting ready to go back over to her house so she could let the sitter get home. She heard a car coming down the track and thought it must be Michael. They’d only been gone fifteen minutes, but maybe he’d forgotten something, or he was coming back because of Jamie.
As she went outside an old Honda came down the track and stopped in a flurry of snow and dirt and the driver’s door flew open. She recognized Rachel, and with a slight shock realized Rachel was the woman she saw with Michael a week ago. They stared at each other, Rachel evidently as surprised as she was.
‘Is Michael here?’ Rachel asked.
Belatedly, Susan registered the fresh bruising on Rachel’s face, and along with her agitated manner it set alarm bells ringing. ‘What happened to you?’
Rachel’s hand went automatically to her swollen lip. ‘Nothing. Please, do you know where he is?’
‘It’s Rachel isn’t it? Is something wrong?’
‘It’s Pete, my husband, he thinks ...’ She shook her head. ‘He’s not himself right now and I’m worried.’
‘Your husband?’
‘I don’t know where he is. I’m worried what he might do. I have to find Michael.’
It started to dawn on Susan what she was talking about. ‘What were you going to say then? What does your husband think?’
‘He’s got it all wrong. Somebody saw me with Michael, and Pete… Look, please, is he here?’
‘No he’s not. T
hey went to release Michael’s falcon.’
‘They?’
‘My son is with him,’ Susan said, beginning to get alarmed.
‘Do you know where they are?’
‘I’m not sure. Somewhere up towards Falls Pass I think.’
‘I have to find them. Pete carries a rifle in his truck,’ Rachel said.
‘A rifle?’ A chasm opened up in the pit of Susan’s stomach. ‘Are you saying Michael’s in danger?’
‘I don’t know. Yes, I think so.’
‘Jesus.’ Susan thought of Jamie and of David, shot dead in front of Jamie’s eyes, and a hundred other thoughts tore through her mind. ‘You have to go into town and find Coop,’ she said, thinking and talking at the same time. She was already running towards her house. ‘Tell him they’re somewhere near Falls Pass. I’ll go up ahead.’
Rachel was already running back to her car.
***
Rachel hammered on the door to Coop’s office. The door was locked but his car was outside.
‘Coop,’ she yelled, ‘are you in there?’
She couldn’t hear anything and hammered again. She wondered where he could be. It was Sunday morning and the town was mostly empty this early. Part of her reasoned that she was probably wrong about what Pete might have in mind. He made a lot of noise but usually that’s where it ended. Once he sobered up he would forget about Michael. Ordinarily she would have been convinced, but when she felt the bruise on her face and remembered what Pete had done she wasn’t so sure. This time was different, and the tight knot of apprehension in her stomach refused to go away.
She hammered on the door again, and this time she heard a key in the lock, and then Coop stood there with his hand on the jamb, rubbing his face and blinking in the light. He looked terrible. Behind him she could see an empty bottle on the desk and he’d clearly spent the night in his office, though she didn’t have time to wonder why.
‘Rachel. What’s wrong?’ he said.
‘It’s Pete. I think he’s looking for Michael Somers. He’s got a gun, Coop. We need to find him.’
He blinked at her, absorbing what she’d said, and she saw him take in her swollen mouth.
‘We have to hurry!’ she said urgently and this time she got through to him and he went back inside. When he came back he was buckling on his gun.
‘Do you know where he is?’
‘Susan thinks Michael and her son went up to Falls Pass.’
‘Susan?’ Coop stared at her and then suddenly he was hurrying to his car. Rachel went with him and got in the passenger side. He looked like he was going to say something but then changed his mind.
CHAPTER 38
The day was perfect for this, Michael thought. Overnight there had been a light snowfall and the snow was virgin. The sun was behind them, bouncing off the white slope. Beyond the bluff, high on the ridge, the sky beckoned wide and blue.
He wanted to let Cully go from up there so they could watch her soar out over the valley. He paused, stroking her breast. The air was crisp, scented with pine.
Cully seemed to sense that something was different today. She held her wings slightly open, the breeze teasing her feathers. She scanned the sky with dark, bright eyes. They began the walk across the snowfield toward the bluff, and half-way there they stopped. Michael shoved the perch he was carrying into the ground and let Cully step onto it before he took off his glove and offered it to Jamie.
‘Do you want to do this?’
Until then Jamie had hung back, and now indecision flashed in his eyes. Michael waited, and finally Jamie nodded and took the glove. He bent down and took Cully onto his fist and kept hold of the leash with his other hand.
Michael took a piece of rabbit meat from his bag and offered it to her. She looked at it disinterestedly. He’d been planning to feed her before they let her go, but for the past few days he’d let her eat as much as she wanted and now her appetite was dulled.
‘I think she’s ready,’ he said. He produced a clasp knife. ‘I’m going to cut her free. When I’m done, just lift your arm and she’ll go.’
Jamie’s gaze was fixed on Cully. Tears brimmed in his eyes.
‘Are you ready for this?’ Michael asked, and he waited until Jamie nodded, then he opened the knife. First he cut off the bell and then turned his attention to the leather anklets. The blade was sharp, but it was awkward cutting through them without cutting Cully too. He got the first one off and started on the second one, and when he tugged on her leg she lost her balance and opened her wings to steady herself.
Suddenly Cully was in the air. For an instant Michael didn’t know what had happened, and then he saw the trailing jesses and leash. His stomach lurched. He realized Jamie had let go of the leash before he’d finished cutting the second anklet free. In that same instant Jamie understood his mistake and his eyes widened in horror.
‘It’s okay,’ Michael said reassuringly, though in his mind’s eye he pictured the scene in The Goshawk where the author watched his hawk fly off trailing the leash behind her.
He fumbled in his bag for the lure, and as he unraveled the cord he kept his eyes fixed on Cully as she gained height. He knew she wasn’t hungry, and in a rush he understood how serious the situation was. If he couldn’t get the leash off, Cully was doomed to an unpleasant and certain death. Eventually the leash would tangle on something and she would hang upside down helplessly until she starved.
He began to swing the lure and called her name. She continued to rise and he called again, desperately willing her to respond. He knew if he lost sight of her over the ridge towards the valley he might never find her again. He began to run to try and keep her in sight.
She continued towards the ridge and he willed her to change direction, to find a thermal and circle high above them. If she did that she might get hungry enough that he’d be able to call her down. But Cully continued heading for the valley, and as she drew further away Michael felt it was hopeless. He stopped running, out of breath and panting. She was almost at the bluff, and in a few moments would be lost from sight. Jamie caught up to him and clutched at his arm. His eyes streamed tears, silently pleading with him to do something.
One last time Michael shouted her name and swung the lure. His voice carried in the cold, still air and echoed faintly off the bluff. For a second it seemed Cully had heard him. She altered the pitch of her wing stroke and then he lost her briefly in a shadow before he saw the pale flick of a wing as she settled on a ledge high up on the sheer rock face.
The flare of hope he experienced was short-lived when he and Jamie reached the bottom of the bluff.
‘Can you see her?’ Michael said. The place where he thought she ought to be was a crisscrossed pattern of shadows and rifts in the rock. Incredibly Jamie nodded, grabbing his arm and pointing.
At first Michael couldn’t see anything, then a movement caught his eye and he saw her perched on a ledge between jagged outcrops about a hundred feet up. She seemed unconcerned. He started to swing the lure again, but it occurred to him that if he coaxed her from her perch and she wasn’t hungry enough to come to the lure, he would almost certainly lose sight of her. He reasoned it might be better to wait and hope that the longer she remained up there the hungrier she would become. He was still weighing his options when Cully made her own decision, and with a flick of her wings she took to the air, and this time he was sure he’d never see her again.
Michael saw immediately that something was wrong. Cully remained flapping at the rock face, her wings beating uselessly, propelling her a foot forward before she fell back again. Repeatedly she tried to escape, but her leash had caught on something and she was helpless. As they looked on helplessly she became exhausted by her efforts and after a few minutes she hung suspended by her feet, flapping weakly, twisting slowly against the cliff.
Michael handed Jamie the lure, already searching for a route up the rock face. There were numerous fissures and cracks that would give him hand and footholds, but the main pr
oblem would be the last part of the climb. The ledge where Cully’s leash was caught formed part of an overhang. Underneath it the rock was in permanent shadow and he could see the cold sheen of ice against the black rock. Somehow he would have to get over the overhang to reach her.
Michael crouched down in front of Jamie and explained what he was going to do. ‘I’m going to try and reach her, but there’s a chance she might get free. If she does, you have to try and get her down or we’ll lose sight of her. Use the lure, Jamie. You know how to do it. It’ll be up to you, okay. Do the best you can.’
He put the lure in Jamie’s hands and closed his fingers around the rope, then he went to the foot of the bluff and began to climb.
The rock was smooth in places, worn by the wind and rain over eons to defy the frozen hands of a man. In others it was jagged and sharp and scraped the flesh from his fingertips as he sought to find a grip. As he climbed higher, the breeze became a freezing wind that numbed exposed flesh. Sixty feet up Michael paused for breath, his eyes streaming from the cold. He could see Cully hanging by her leash, flapping listlessly now and then to try and free herself. Her efforts only tired her. The ground below seemed distant. The numbness seeping into his bones made falling a real possibility, and he imagined his body smashing into the rocks on the way down, shattering bones. At the foot of the bluff, Jamie stood looking up at him, his face a pale blur. Michael found the next handhold and hauled himself up another foot.
As he got closer he began speaking softly, trying to calm Cully. When she heard him she flapped her wings pitifully. Eventually he reached the overhang. She was only ten feet away, but he couldn’t see a way to reach her. He was in shadow and the rock was freezing. He knew if he waited there too long the cold would numb him to the point where he’d lose his grip. His one chance was to try to find a hold and haul himself up until he could get an elbow over the top.
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