The Bargain - One man stands between a destitute town and total destruction.

by Aaron D. Gansky

  I kept my eyes locked on his. “Church business.”

  He cursed the church and Mason. “Give me a reason not to kill you.”

  I wondered if I should tell the truth. I had a wife who was dying, who needed me to care for her. If he killed me, the whole town would be destroyed by the very breath of God. Somehow, I figured that’d get the knife-point in my larynx faster than anything. I remembered how furious I became when faced with the name of God before I finally accepted Him. Would he be hostile like me?

  He wanted the truth, and I felt obligated to give it. And strangely, I trusted God to save me. My fear trickled away.

  “If you kill me, this whole town will be destroyed. You, your brothers and sisters, everyone.”

  He grinned. “Oh that’s good.”

  “Want to know how it’s going to end?”

  “Tell me, Reporter Man.”

  “A tornado. The very breath of God will sweep through here and clear this place of all the evil in it.”

  “So maybe I kill you, get up to the mountains and watch. Sounds like quite a show.”

  “You wanted the truth.”

  Behind him, the wind swirled outside. The few trees near Sue’s bent with the strain. Dirt spiraled into a dust tornado. And that’s when the front door crashed in.

  Dust and twigs and tumbleweeds swirled in. The door crashed into a table. The crash ricocheted off the walls like an echo in a cavern. I leaned back when Ryan turned his head.

  The dust came in thick golden smoke and swirled at the entryway. Ryan pulled the knife back and covered his eyes with the crook of his elbow.

  Carl didn’t hesitate. He rushed out from the kitchen with a cast-iron skillet and smashed Ryan in the side of the head. The thud hit me like a train. The man fell in a heap.

  Carl looked at me. “I could’ve hit him harder.”

  “I believe it.” I picked up the switchblade and handed it to him, then slipped the gun from his waist. I’d guessed right. He had a Glock 9 mm loaded and ready to go.

  “Glad he started with the knife,” Carl said.

  “Me, too. He’s going to be mad when he gets up.”

  He took the gun and knife and locked them in a drawer. “I can handle him now.”

  I agreed. If Ryan had a linebacker’s build, Carl was the offensive lineman. His neck would shame the trunk of most trees.

  Veronica snatched up the phone and dialed 911. “Doubt the cops will do anything, but it’s worth a shot.”

  Carl nodded toward Ryan. “It was pretty touch and go there for a minute. Didn’t want to do anything to get you cut up.”

  “I appreciate it.” The wind eased slightly and the door fell shut. “That wind was convenient.”

  Veronica hung up the phone. “Said they’d be here in an hour. You must be charmed or something.” Her color returned. She rested both elbows on the counter, her face in her hands.

  “Something.”

  She asked, “You mean all that stuff about the breath of God?”

  I jerked my thumb toward the front door. “Doesn’t sound crazy anymore, does it?”

  “Should I pack up Emily?”

  I wanted to say yes, wanted to tell her to pack up the child and get out of Hailey while she could, but didn’t want to panic her. Beyond that, I wondered if her being gone would mean one fewer righteous person in Hailey.

  “Hold tight. You may want to have some things ready to go real quick. I have a lot of work to do, but we’re not at the panic stage yet.” In a softer voice, I said, “I don’t know how to say thank you.”

  Veronica put a hand up. “Just make sure we don’t have to rush out of town. Believe it or not, some of us kind of like where we are.”

  I nodded. “Can do. One last thing: it’d probably be best if you guys didn’t go around mentioning this. The last thing this town needs is widespread panic.”

  Ryan moaned, put an arm over his head and rolled over.

  Carl said, “Better get going.”

  The wind died down, and I raced out to my car. Even if Tyler showed up, the possibility of an interview with him at Sue’s was out. I’d have to talk to him elsewhere, if at all.

  * * *

  I didn’t consider which way to go. I wanted to get out of Sue’s as fast as I could. I turned right onto 29 and prayed. I hadn’t prayed much in my life, and though I’d done a good amount over the last few days, I still had to rely on what I heard of Nadine’s prayers to guide me. From what I gathered between her and Caleb, God was approachable. He’d already heard and answered one prayer that day, and humbled me in the process.

  I didn’t know what to say. I felt insane saying anything at all, but ungrateful to stay silent. “Lord Jesus,” I said. “Wow.”

  The rest of my prayer, my gratitude, my thanksgiving, my humility, all rolled into the one word. I said “Wow,” again, and it carried my insecurities, my fears and doubts, my anguish over Nadine’s condition, my disbelief about the situation now facing me. I didn’t know if He could understand all that from one word, but I had a feeling He did.

  I wanted to flip a U-turn and rush back to Aida’s, to hold Nadine in my arms and kiss her cheeks. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her, how much it killed me being away from her when she was like this. But her health improved each time I wrote an article, and I had to trust God’s control, an act I found easier after the well-timed dust devil that kicked in Sue’s door.

  Before I knew it, I’d traveled all the way into Newland Hospital. I decided to pop in on Mason, to check on him, and, if I couldn’t interview Tyler, why not the other guy Mason told me about? I could talk with him and then, maybe on my way back, if time permitted, stop by the free clinic in Hailey to talk with Doctor Slate.

  I can’t say the plan had been well thought out, but it accomplished my primary goal: keeping my distance from Bernard’s kids. As I thought about it, I made a chilling realization.

  If they knew I was working with Mason, how long until they made the connection between Mason and Aida? And, if they did, how long would it be until they came to Aida’s looking for Mason or me? Had they already been to Mason’s?

  At the next light, one street away from the hospital, I turned the car around. I flipped open my cell and dialed Aida. “It’s me. Get some stuff packed together real fast and get you and Nadine out of there. Call me when you’re out of the house.”

  “What’s wrong? Do you know something we don’t?”

  “Please, Aida. Trust me on this. I want you and Nadine out of there now. I don’t care where you go. Pack light. Take only what you absolutely need. That includes my laptop.”

  “Already got it.”

  Nadine screamed.

  Something terrifyingly loud crashed through the phone into my ear. I pulled the receiver away and winced.

  “Aida!” I shouted. “What’s going on?” I heard footsteps, more crackling, then gunshots. I hung up, punched the accelerator, and dialed 911.

  An operator asked the nature of my emergency. The wind picked up again, and I had to hold the steering wheel at a near forty-five degree angle to keep it on the road. “I heard gunshots at my sister-in-law’s house. She’s there with my wife.”

  “I’ll connect you to the police.” The phone clicked, and a few minutes later another voice answered. “Police, what’s your emergency?”

  I skipped to the nitty-gritty. “Shots fired at 3232 Westchester in Hailey. My wife and her sister are in the house.”

  “Okay. I’ll have a car drive by and check it out.”

  “When?”

  “No cars in the area. Hailey’s a ways off. Maybe thirty minutes.”

  “They might be dead in thirty minutes.”

  “Not much I can do about that.”

  Disgusted, I hung up. Judging by everyone el
se’s stories, I’d be lucky if they showed at all.

  Again, I prayed. “Please, God. Please.”

  * * *

  Five minutes away from Aida’s house, I called her again. I had driven nearly ninety miles an hour for ten minutes.

  Aida finally answered. “We’re in the car.”

  “What in the world was going on out there?”

  “Where are you?”

  “On 29, five minutes out.”

  “Don’t go by the house. We’re going into Newland. Meet us at the hospital.”

  I checked over my shoulder. No cars. I slowed and cranked the wheel, turning the car around far too quickly. I tipped onto two wheels, held my breath and exhaled when the car crashed back on all four tires. “I just flipped around. You should be passing me soon. I’m going to follow you.”

  “Thanks, but not necessary. We’re out of trouble for now.”

  “Tell me what happened.” The sun rose high, glared blinding lights through my window. I flipped my visor down.

  “Fire.” I thought of Aida’s story. She’d had the same tone I’d imagined she’d used when confronting her ex-husband about the drugs. Aida didn’t like resorting to violence, but she could hold her own if it came to it.

  “Who was shooting?”

  She hung up.

  Racing down the freeway, I called her back. “If you won’t talk to me, at least let me speak to Nadine.”

  “She doesn’t feel much like talking now.” She hung up again.

  I threw my phone on the passenger seat and hit the steering wheel. I clenched my jaw and sped up.

  The wind howled outside, pushing the car hard to the left. The car slid on the pavement, like driving on Colorado ice. Dust devils lined the desert like a hundred tiny tornados. Frustration and anger screeched in my mind, made my brain ache with a million imagined voices, and through them all, one cutting whisper.

  It sliced through the other voices, severing them from their breath, until only the gentle whisper remained, like a breeze in my brain while the wind raged outside the car.

  Peace, it said.

  A suggestion? A command? A gift.

  I slowed the car and prayed, in earnest, for peace. I’d never heard the voice of God, but the whispered word couldn’t be mistaken.

  Anger and exhaustion returned. I was sick of fear and fury, of cancer and disease, of lies and running, of walking on eggshells and wondering why all this happened to me. Where was God in this?

  I made myself sick with want for answers, tasted bile rising from the turbulence of my stomach.

  Peace. Trust. I am on My throne.

  I’d never been good with trust. I pressed the gas pedal and exhaled slowly. Clouds gathered overhead. Drops of rain peppered my windshield. In the distance, just over the mountains far to the west, a rainbow split the sky.

  I keep My promises. I promise peace. Trust in Me.

  Trust. A simple request, but one I wasn’t sure I could fulfill. I gripped the wheel, hit the windshield wipers, and whispered, “Help me trust You.”

  * * *

  I beat Aida and Nadine to the hospital by minutes. Once I spotted Aida’s car, I ran to where she parked.

  Aida slipped out of the car quickly. “Help me with Nadine,”

  Nadine reclined in her seat, eyes clenched like fists, tears tracing her cheeks.

  I rushed to her. “What help? Why does she need help?”

  “The fire. She’s not burned badly, but it took me a bit to get her out of the house. The smoke aggravated her lungs.”

  Nadine’s skin paled to a wispy, wraithlike white. “Nadine, honey, can you walk?”

  She shook her head.

  Aida and I helped Nadine struggle out of the car. While Aida steadied her, I picked her up at her knees and under her shoulders. She weighed so little, I could have been carrying a sleeping child to her room. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and Aida shut and locked the car door behind us. I hurried to the ER, walking as quickly as I could without jarring my wife. Aida ran ahead and talked with the nurse.

  I set Nadine down gently in a plastic chair with flimsy aluminum legs. She had nowhere to recline or rest her feet. She clutched her stomach, hunched over. I sat next to her and gently rubbed her back. Her muscles were knotted and tense. She trembled under my hand.

  Furious, I went back to praying, not because I felt particularly righteous or close to God, but because I didn’t.

  Trust Me. I will bring you peace.

  Sooner would be better than later.

  Patience.

  Never been good with that, either.

  Caleb insisted God would hear me when I called out, that He wanted me to seek Him. I did so now. I cried out to Him, gave Him my worry and fear and pain and anger. I told him I wanted to pack Nadine up and drive back to Colorado immediately, that I was angry God had called me here in the first place. I asked Him why he’d let this happen to Nadine, to me, to Mason and Aida. If He wanted the town destroyed, He could do it. Just leave us out of it.

  And what of Caleb? Veronica and Carl? Emily? Bernard?

  Then don’t destroy the town. Leave it alone and let us get on with our lives.

  Trust Me.

  I shook my head, more confused now than ever. By my reasoning, Mason and Aida, Caleb and Veronica, Bernard and Emily, they were righteous. If for no other reason, God should spare Hailey for the sake of Emily. So maybe I’d done my job. Maybe I’d found the righteous people of Hailey.

  If I had, why then did we suffer for it? Shouldn’t Nadine be healed? Instead, we sat in Newland Hospital again. I’d spent more time here than I had at Aida’s.

  At the counter, Aida filled out paperwork. She slumped her shoulders. Her purse slipped from her shoulder down to her elbow. She tilted her head to one side like a curious dog and rolled her neck around slowly.

  I whispered to my wife. “Aida’s on the case. We’ll get some help real soon.”

  She shook under my hand.

  I wanted to put my arm around her, but worried the simple weight of my arm would be too much for her, might crush her.

  Aida sat next to Nadine. Leaning in close, she whispered, “I pulled a few strings. You’ll be in within a few minutes.”

  Nadine wiped tears from her face and crossed her arms across her stomach again.

  She kissed Nadine’s forehead. I’d not seen Aida make such a gentle, loving gesture. “Whenever the doctor has a minute, we’ll get right in.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  Aida rolled her eyes. “I told you already. There was a fire.”

  “And gunshots?”

  “Me. Thought I saw them outside. My shotgun’s loaded with birdshot. Not enough to kill, but enough to wish it would.”

  “Them who?”

  “Whoever set my house on fire.”

  Arson. Made sense. When Aida mentioned fire, I never suspected faulty wiring or gas leaks. “Did you get a good look at them?”

  “They burned and turned. House went up quick. I’m guessing they dumped gasoline around the house.”

  I shook my head. “You called the fire department?”

  “I left them my number. They’ll get there when they feel like it. I’m not expecting anything to make it. I’ve made my peace with it. Wasn’t anything in that house I was particularly attached to anyway.”

  “Where will you stay?”

  “Mason’s.”

  I shook my head. “Not a good idea. What if they got to his house, too?”

  Aida grimaced. “You have a suspect?”

  “Any of Bernard’s kids. One showed up at Sue’s this morning and waited for me.”

  I moved my finger across my throat to show Aida Ryan’s intentions. With Nadine still huddled over, I
knew she wouldn’t see. I didn’t want to further upset her.

  Aida nodded. “I should be surprised or disappointed, but you get to a point where you kinda accept facts. This is Hailey, you know? It’s how it’s always been.”

  Nadine shuddered and whimpered softly. She never complained, never moaned or groaned. For her to do so now, she must be in agony. My helplessness, my inability to help her, tore my heart apart. I knelt before her, hugged her. She clutched my shoulders, my shirt, and buried her face in my neck. She pressed her cheek against mine. I wondered which were her tears, and which were mine.

  * * *

  The weakness scared her the most, she said. When they called her name, the nurse came out with a black wheelchair. Nadine stared at it, tried to be brave, to show dignity through adversity, courage through fear.

  I walked beside her, and she held my hand for a few minutes before resting it on the arm of the chair.

  “Too heavy,” she said. I nodded and cleared my throat.

  Aida said, if I had everything under control, she wanted to see Mason. I said I did, and she kissed Nadine’s cheek and disappeared down a hall. A good sign. If Nadine were as bad off as I thought, Aida would never leave her.

  I stood beside her as nurses drew vial after vial of blood, measured her weight, heart rate, blood pressure. They recorded each number with meticulous care in Nadine’s chart.

  Sometime between the x-rays and the MRI, Nadine took my hand.

  “Connor, I want you to promise me something.”

  “Anything.”

  “If it comes to it, I want you to finish the articles.”

  “I was planning on it.”

  She put her hand on mine. “With or without me.”

  I sighed. “Nadine, stop.”

  “Connor, we need to talk about this.”

  I slunk down in my seat. “No, we don’t.”

  Nadine squeezed my hand. “I don’t want to talk about it either, but we need to.”

  I wanted to ask the nurse for some Toradol for my nausea. “Can we not talk about it, please?”

  She let go of my hand. “I want you to finish up. With or without me.”

  Dizziness dimmed my vision as I stood, and I nearly fell over.