by DaveKearns
"Ever have trouble getting your car up here?" I asked.
"Not really," she said, "My Jeep can handle anything. If we get heavy snowfall I park down by the forestry center and just walk up."
I tried to imagine hiking up the hill to the house through knee-deep snow.
"Right," I said.
Michelle stomped her feet on the doormat to shake the pine needles from her boots. I followed her example, and she held the cabin door open for me as I finished. A big old male collie with graying muzzle hair shambled over to make my acquaintance, and I held out the back of my hand for him to sniff, giving him a chance to see what I smelled like. Then I gave him a couple of scratches behind his ears and he leaned against me, satisfied that he’d made another friend.
"His name is Colonel," Michelle said, looking a little surprised. "He doesn't usually take to people so quickly."
I gave Colonel a few final scratches before pulling my flannel shirt off and hanging it on a coat rack by the front door. I followed Michelle into the kitchen where a middle-aged woman with red hair was pulling a tray of cookies from the oven. A small, dark-haired girl in red corduroy overalls and blue tennis shoes was perched beside her on a stool, watching with rapt attention. Then the girl turned and saw Michelle, letting out a little cry of joy. She jumped off the stool and wrapped her arms around Michelle's legs in a rush of affection. Then she noticed me and let go of Michelle, wrapping her arms around my legs instead. I was taken aback, but I ran my hand over her hair anyway. It was a beautiful auburn, like Michelle's.
"Del, this is my daughter Rosalie. And this is my mother, Juanita Villareal."
I shook Juanita's hand.
"How are you, Del?" she asked.
"Fine, thank you."
"Well, you're just in time for cookies. If you'd like to take Rosalie for a little walk, I can give you some provisions." She gave me a conspiratorial wink. "She's been waiting to eat the cookies for quite a while."
Michelle watched me, gauging my reaction to all this.
"Sounds good to me," I said. "Maybe I can get Rosalie to show me the golf course." Michelle gave Rosalie a little tug on one shoulder. The girl let go of my legs and watched her mother's face expectantly. Michelle motioned with her hands rapidly, signing to the little girl. Rosalie nodded furiously and ran from the kitchen into the living room.
Michelle broke the silence. "Rosalie said that she would love to show you the course. She's gone to get her coat."
I smiled weakly, unsure of what to say. Michelle continued, "Rosalie is deaf as I'm sure you guessed."
I nodded.
Juanita handed me a small sandwich bag with a half-dozen warm chocolate chip cookies in it. "If you get hungry, these should help," she said.
I grabbed my flannel shirt and followed Michelle and Rosalie out the front door. We held Colonel off at the door, keeping him from coming along. Michelle said that the dog had a problem with running off and not coming back, so we needed to leave him in the house. Rosalie took my hand and pulled me along the road towards the golf course. Michelle walked briskly alongside. It was very quiet and the only sounds were from our boots on the dusty road and from Rosalie kicking at pine cones and stones.
"Are you surprised that I have a child?'' Michelle asked.
"A little. Most people I know who have kids can’t stop talking about them. Your daughter is beautiful." She was watching my face, and I could tell she was trying to read my expression.
"Yes, she is," Michelle said. "She's the best part of my life. Actually, she's been the best part for some time." She went silent again. Rosalie smiled at me and pointed at the bag of cookies I held. I got one for each of us, and we made our way down the road in companionable silence.
Michelle had a troubled expression, as if she were debating whether to confide in me or not. I let her take her time. Rosalie tugged on my hand. I looked down and saw Rosalie pointing towards one of the fairways. It was cut from stands of timber so thick that it appeared that a benevolent God had plucked a section of the forest up and laid green carpet down for play. A man in yellow pants and a bright orange shirt was trying to drive a ball from a sand trap. Rosalie jumped up and down with excitement. Then she signed with her hands and looked at her mother expectantly.
Michelle smiled a little. The clouds seemed to have passed for her. "She wants to know if that man in the bright clothing is a clown. We went to the circus a few weeks ago, and I guess that she thinks that one of the clowns is up here playing golf. She shook her head at Rosalie. Rosalie didn't seem to mind. She had spotted the cookies in the hip pocket of my flannel shirt and helped herself to the bag. She broke one in half and handed half to me, then started skipping back up the road towards the house with the rest of the bag.
"I don't mean to bring you down," Michelle said, "but it's hard raising a kid on your own. I love her a lot and my mom helps too, but it's just hard. That's all."
"It must be hard being a parent," I said. "Especially when your child is a maniac about cookies. Did you see what just happened? She took the whole bag from me."
Michelle punched me in the arm and looked disgusted with me, but I smiled at her before putting my arm around her waist. We started back up the hill behind Rosalie's skipping figure.
Michelle's mother made lunch for us while Rosalie and I played with a puzzle of wooden pieces for each of the fifty states. Rosalie slapped the pieces against the empty border with speed and familiarity. I picked up the piece for West Virginia, and then put it in an empty place near the eastern seaboard. I knew Rosalie would place it where it belonged in time.
Chapter Ten
Michelle and I sat in Adirondack chairs on the back porch of the cabin. Juanita and Rosalie were in the cabin watching old cartoons on cable. We slouched in our chairs, resting our feet up against the rail of the porch. Fir trees with trunks thicker than oil drums grew just beyond the porch. I could just make out the yellow paint of another cabin through the trees. Even though the air was very still where we sat, I could hear the rush of wind through the treetops. The sound was peaceful and relaxing, like sitting at the beach and listening to the waves come in.
"I went by Brick's house last night," I said. "Sgt. Bullard came by with someone to take fingerprints and search the house. Apparently the autopsy showed that Brick's death wasn't an accident." I wanted to call it murder, but I felt like I would be bruising her if I said the word. She didn't seem surprised when I told her. She just sat there as if she was trapped.
"I have to ask you some questions about Brick," I said.
She put her hands deep into her vest pockets. "Okay," Michelle answered. "Ask."
"Do you know anybody who had it in for Brick?"
"Don't you think that if I knew I would have told the police already? I told you we used to be together."
I heard the sound of a car's engine straining up one of the hills nearby. "Can you tell me what he did when he wasn't at work? I know he had some hobbies. I saw a picture he took of you in the desert. He had some camera gear in his house."
"Brick loved being outdoors," she said. Her voice sounded tired. "He liked to take his camera gear and hike into the desert, the mountains, anywhere. If you're talking about the picture in his darkroom, he took it on one of our last nights together. We went out to White Sands just before sunset. The wind started blowing just as he took the picture. He liked that one a lot. I'm not sure why."
I knew why. Because it captured something beautiful in a dangerous place. He got that picture exactly right.
Michelle adjusted her position in her chair. I couldn't see any expression on her face now because she had turned away from me. If I wasn't talking, she wouldn't even have known that I was there.
"Do you mind telling me more about why Brick broke it off with you?"
"I don't think that that's really any of your business. You want to know about your brother and I don't mind telling you, but..." Her voice trailed off. The sounds of the cartoon show filtered onto the back porch.
"He was acting weird the last time we were together. He said something about getting into a fight with one of the other drivers that day and then he dropped me off at my car. Said he wanted to get some night pictures in the desert. He had some big lenses for his camera. I guess he wanted to take pictures of rabbits, or snakes, or something. I wanted to go with him but he insisted on going alone."
"Did he make a habit of that? Of going alone?"
She shrugged. He chin rested on her chest. "After that, he started avoiding me at work. I called his house every night for a week. One night I called almost all night and got no answer. I knew what was happening."
"What?"
"He found someone else to be with. That’s what it always is." The tone in her voice was like a stab, like she couldn't believe my stupidity.
"Has anything unusual been going on at the quarry lately?" I asked. "Anything big?"
She thought about it for a moment. Her down vest rustled as she hunched her shoulders against the cool air.
"I don’t know. The usual things."
"Brick never said anything to you like he thought something was wrong at work? Besides what he said about getting into a fight with one of the other drivers?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Did he mention the other driver's name?"
"No."
"Okay. The accident happened on the night shift when his truck wiped out. Did he usually work the night shift?"
"He was usually there during the day. We'd have lunch together in the cafeteria until he quit talking to me. He mentioned working a night shift to me a few times. He didn't do it very often."
"Could you check the records at the quarry, see if he was supposed to be there that night? Maybe he traded shifts with someone."
"Okay. I'll take a look tomorrow morning."
"Could you get me a list of who else was working that night?"
She sighed. "I'll try. It might take me a couple days. We haven't done the time cards for this time period, so I'll have to walk around to all the places where people keep their cards."
"Thanks," I said. "I appreciate it. A lot."
"Yeah. I know." Then she got up and went back inside.
Chapter Eleven
Juanita had to cook dinner at the lodge, so she left early to go over and get organized. She said she liked to get her ducks in a row before people started ordering meals. Michelle and I took Rosalie down to the pro shop at the golf course. Michelle tried to talk me out of renting a cart, but I insisted. I figured that I could play more quickly, and if Rosalie got tired we wouldn't have to carry her.
I rented clubs and bought a dozen balls colored international signal orange. The green fee was expensive, but Michelle knew the golf pro and he waived the fee. It seemed like everyone knew Michelle up there. They had a little community of people who looked out for each other.
Michelle and Rosalie sat in the cart and watched me get ready to tee off.
"Isn't it usually busier than this here?" I asked Michelle.
"Most of the tourists go home Sunday afternoon. It'll pick up again on Wednesday."
"It's just as well. No one here to witness the disaster."
"Brick said you were quite a golfer."
"I used to be pretty fair," I said. "But it's been a while."
The first hole was a long one. I pulled a three wood from the golf bag strapped to the back of the cart. Michelle and Rosalie were signing language back and forth.
"Rosalie wants to know if you'll teach her to play golf," Michelle asked. I nodded at Rosalie.
"I'd be delighted," I said.
I set my grip, blanked my mind, loosened my shoulders, and drove through the ball, letting momentum carry the head of the club through the ball instead of pulling through it with my muscles. The ball sailed cleanly to treetop level, then dropped and rolled to within twenty yards of the green. Once I got over my surprise at hitting it so well, I slid the club back into the bag and climbed into the driver's seat.
The first eight holes were a marvel. I had been keeping track of my strokes and knew I was only three over par when I teed up for the ninth hole. It was a short hole, all uphill. The green sat at the end of a short rise on the fairway with the flag hanging limply on the pin. I drove the ball with a five iron and watched it arc high before bouncing onto the green. I was ecstatic when I got into the cart. I knew I had a chance at a birdie.
When I pulled the cart to a stop beside the green, Rosalie began pointing at the ball and signing to Michelle. I could see why she was excited. The ball was only a few feet from the hole. If I didn't choke, I could birdie the putt and finish the front nine at only two over par. Rosalie got out of the cart when I did. I went over to the flag and pulled it from the hole, savoring the moment.
I walked back across the green towards the cart. I could see down the hill to the fairway and onto several other fairways carved from the trees. The view was stunning. Rosalie and Michelle were standing at the back of the cart by the golf bag. Rosalie was signing to Michelle intently. I got the putter from the bag.
"Rosalie wants to know if you'll let her hit the ball this time," Michelle said.
I was taken aback. "I'd really like to sink this putt, Michelle. I can't believe I'm playing this well."
Rosalie came over and grabbed the putter. I didn’t want to let go of it.
"You can say no," Michelle said. "But she shared her cookies with you."
I sighed and let go.
"You'll be rewarded in heaven," Michelle said.
"I hope it's sooner than that."
Rosalie strode purposefully to the ball. She held the putter halfway down the shaft and tapped at the ball. The orange ball ringed the cup before falling in. Rosalie jumped around the hole in a victory dance.
"Unbelievable," I said.
Michelle came over and linked her arm through mine. Rosalie retrieved the orange ball from the hole and held it over her head like a trophy.
"You're a good guy, Del," Michelle said.
"I guess this proves it."
Rosalie got back into the golf cart, clutching the ball tightly with both hands. I put the flag back into the hole and picked up my putter. By the time we reached the pro shop, Rosalie had fallen asleep in Michelle's lap. We lifted Rosalie gently from the cart, and Michelle sat with her on a bench outside the pro shop while I went inside with the keys to the cart.
Chapter Twelve
I carried Rosalie back up the road to Michelle's cabin. By the time we reached the door, my arms were sore and I was breathing a little hard from the altitude. Michelle held the door open for me while I carried Rosalie into the living room.
"In here," Michelle said, leading me into Rosalie's bedroom. It didn't look like it belonged in the same cabin as the rest of the rooms. The walls were freshly painted, and at waist level a carefully drawn alphabet danced around the perimeter of the room. The floor had new, thick carpet on it and one corner of the room overflowed with stuffed animals. Michelle pulled back the covers of the bed as I laid Rosalie on the sheets. Michelle removed Rosalie's shoes and slid the covers up to her chin.
We stood close for a moment, watching Rosalie breathe. I could hear her exhalations coming soft and strong. Michelle leaned her shoulder against mine and I put my arm around her waist, holding her close.
She pulled away gently and then led me by the hand into another bedroom. Then she closed the door behind us and leaned her back against it so it couldn’t be opened by Rosalie if she woke up and came looking for us.
The lights were off and the blinds were down in the room, but there was enough light coming through that we could still see each other. She took both my hands in hers and pulled me so close that our noses were almost touching. Then she put one hand up against the side of my face and kissed me.
I put my arms around her, feeling the smooth muscles of her back through her shirt and smelling the fragrance of her hair. Her hands slid down my spine
and settled on my hips for a moment before grabbing my belt and pulling me against her. When we kissed again the heat was intense and our breaths began coming harder. She let go of my belt and I could feel her hands at her chest, unbuttoning her shirt before pulling it free of her jeans. I slid my hands under her shirt and put my palms against the hot skin at the base of her back. When she put her lips on mine again I felt like I was in free fall.