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Raven Stole the Moon

Page 31

by Garth Stein


  “Are you the one who got John Wilson’s daughter out of the cult last year?” Robert asked.

  Joey turned to Robert. He processed the question slowly and then nodded.

  “Was it hard?” Robert asked.

  Joey returned his gaze to the front of the car.

  “You mean, was it messy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let me put it this way: none of the good guys got hurt.”

  Joey threw a sideways glance at Robert and popped open his car door. He glanced around the street as he crossed over to Field’s house, and then, with almost no exertion, he forced open the front door with his shoulder. He looked back at Robert and shrugged before he disappeared into the house.

  WITH THE DARKNESS GROWING at a steady rate and the feeling of rain in the sky, Jenna was nervous about flying back to Wrangell. She and Eddie stood on the dock at the foot of Klawock waiting for Field to arrive, and to make herself feel better she slipped her arm around Eddie’s waist and leaned into him. He responded by looping his arm around her shoulder.

  “He’ll be here soon unless there was some trouble,” Eddie said.

  “Trouble?”

  “With your husband, Ruben.”

  “Robert. Why didn’t he tell him he was coming to get us?”

  “I don’t know. Flair for the dramatic? He devised a whole plan for escaping unnoticed.”

  Jenna smiled up at Eddie and had an urge to kiss him. She did, but Eddie pulled away playfully.

  “Jenna, please, what would Rudolph say?”

  “His name’s Robert, and what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

  “Said the spider to the fly.”

  She kissed him again and this time Eddie kissed back, and the two young lovers were making out on the dock under the tent of clouds.

  In the distance they could hear the growling of a plane, and though they were much more comfortable with their mouths pressed together, they separated to greet Field. The plane skidded along the water up to the dock. Jenna, Eddie, and Oscar climbed in without a pause and they were off again, away from the village and up into the air.

  The trip was quick. Then they were there. A bit surprised, actually, that they weren’t met at the dock by Magnum, P.I., as Field referred to Joey. Jenna and Eddie went to their truck and offered Field a ride back to his house, but he declined, saying he much preferred to travel incognito, and marveling over the stupidity of Magnum and Robert that they hadn’t noticed his escape, especially since he had made such a stink about flying over them. Amused by his own craftiness, Field wanted to sneak back into the house and see how long the dickheads would take to figure the whole thing out.

  Jenna and Eddie drove with Oscar back to Eddie’s house, where they could make some calls and plot out the next step.

  JOEY SENT ROBERT BACK OUT to the car to wait. He wanted to handle the debriefing himself, without any distractions. He grabbed a hand towel from the bathroom and took up a position in the kitchen. He knew Field would try to sneak back into the house by the kitchen door when he returned. Since it had worked once, he would try it again. The typical rookie mistake. Joey, a veteran, knew that if it works once, it will work only once. Fool me once and it’s your fault; fool me twice and it’s my fault.

  He heard the footsteps on the grass sooner than he had expected. Field had only been gone for an hour and a half. That’s hardly enough time to pick Jenna up, take her somewhere else, and return to Wrangell. Unless they were a lot closer than he had imagined. The door handle turned and the door squeaked open. He saw Field’s hand come in and flip the light switch, but no light went on. Joey had unscrewed the lightbulb. Forced to enter in darkness, Field stepped into the kitchen and stood quietly, suspiciously, waiting for something to catch his eye, for he could sense a presence in the dark room.

  But the presence was too quick for Field. Joey stepped in front of Field and struck. He heard the crunch and saw Field fall to his knees. He hoped he hadn’t hit the old man too hard. A quick blow with the heel of his hand, just as he had planned it, had broken Field’s nose cleanly. Harder, and it would have killed him.

  Field, holding his face in his hands, groaning in pain and surprise, looked up and strained to see who was before him. Joey stood over him and smiled.

  “That’s for thinking you were smarter than me,” Joey said, handing Field the hand towel. “This is so you don’t get any blood on the floor.”

  Joey stood on a chair and screwed the lightbulb back in and the room was suddenly bright. Too bright for Field, who could barely see through his tears. The beige towel Joey had given him to collect the blood pouring from his nose was already saturated. Field looked up at Joey, who had taken on the demeanor of a killer, and felt old and fragile. What would Joey do next? How much pain would he inflict? Field prayed for a cyanide pill hidden in his false tooth so that he could swallow it and die with his secret intact. Joey lifted Field to his feet and helped him to the kitchen chair.

  “I don’t want to hurt you anymore, old man, so why don’t you tell me where they are and I’ll be on my way.”

  Field pulled the towel away from his face. The blood was still flowing freely and he grinned at Joey.

  “Boy, if I’m not any smarter than you, I must be pretty stupid,” he said with a laugh.

  “I guess so.”

  Joey took the towel from Field and put it on the table. He then took a pair of handcuffs from his hip pocket and cuffed Field’s hands to the chair behind his back. He stood in front of Field and took aim at his ribs.

  “This may hurt a little.”

  “I’ll never talk.”

  “Sure you will.”

  The punch was short but forceful, and it hit the ribs on Field’s left side just at the proper angle so they both could hear a crack. Field groaned as the air left him and his eyes rolled upward in pain. The blood from his nose was running down his face and onto his shirt.

  “Ouch,” Joey said sarcastically and cringed. “I think you broke a couple of ribs.”

  Field struggled to regain his breath as Joey lined up on Field’s other side.

  “All right, all right, I’ll talk.”

  “Good boy,” Joey said, smiling. “Where are they?”

  Field laughed and winced at the shooting pain in his side.

  “They’re home, you idiot. I brought them home.”

  THE OLD GUY wasn’t lying after all. There they were, one big happy family, right in front of everyone, man, woman, and dog. Joey and Robert stood outside for a few minutes, across the street, looking in the front windows at them. Lover boy walking around without his shirt on. What was that all about? Jenna sitting on the couch, staring straight ahead. They watched, the voyeurs did, a scene without sound, the dynamic between a man and a woman. The only voice heard was the voice of the narrator, Joey, who perched on Robert’s shoulder and wove a picture of what had happened in the darkness, between the sheets of the bed in which these two unfaithfuls had consummated their passion. Joey told of their flesh intertwined in nakedness, the secrets they revealed to each other, the language of groans and moans they spoke to each other, a language only they could understand. He created a vivid picture in Robert’s mind, a picture now finally made real by the sight of the other man. No longer a stranger to Robert, the other man had a name and a face, and that face would remain in Robert’s mind forever. And when Joey had stoked the jealous fires inside Robert’s heart until they were raging, he released Robert from his box. He turned Robert loose. He told Robert to confront them, his unfaithful wife and her hateful lover.

  Robert’s heart was beating in his throat by the time he reached the door. He was drenched with sweat. He knocked on the glass pane of the door and saw the two lovers look up quickly. They froze and looked without moving until Robert felt like he wanted to bash the door down and fly inside on the wings of rage. Then Eddie moved to the door and opened it. He retreated quickly to the dining room table, seeing the fire in Robert’s eyes and not wanting to be in his path. R
obert’s face was flushed, he trembled, he felt he had no control over his motor skills, the blood was pounding in his ears so loud that if he spoke he didn’t think he would be able to hear himself. But he had to speak. They were watching him, waiting for him. They had been waiting for him from the beginning. This was the moment, the moment is now; it is time.

  “Why?” was all he said.

  Jenna couldn’t believe what Robert looked like. Wrinkled shirt and hair a mess, panting. He looked different than she remembered. Broader, older, his hair lighter. Or maybe it was that she never imagined seeing him in Eddie’s house. Next to Eddie, the thin man with the sunken cheeks, standing in the kitchen, naked from the waist up. Even so, there was something about Robert that made her remember what attracted her to him in the first place. An innocence underneath his officiousness. Why? He burst in ready to kill, but he simply asked why.

  “Why didn’t you shoot me first?” Robert asked Jenna. “Why did it have to be a secret? Why did I have to find out from someone else?”

  Robert unfolded a piece of fax paper and dropped it on the coffee table. Oh, woe is me. Caught between a rock and a hard place. When the picture was taken, nothing had happened between Jenna and Eddie. In the time it took Robert to arrive, something had happened. Why? Jenna looked at the photo without picking it up. It was she and Eddie in bed together. She had no words, no defense. In the beginning they had pledged to be faithful, and if that were not possible, they would deal with the situation fairly and truthfully. When they were dating, before they got married or even thought of marriage, they told each other that if it were ever over for one of them, if the passion were ever to leave, the other would be the first to know. She had not held up her end.

  She looked to Eddie for help. He had slipped his shirt on and looked a little less naked.

  Robert saw Jenna look at Eddie and he looked at Eddie, too.

  “Why?” he asked Eddie. “Don’t you have any respect? Don’t you have any honor?”

  Eddie shrugged. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about you fucking my wife!” Robert screamed.

  Eddie looked at Robert, full of confusion.

  “I never slept with your wife,” he said.

  Robert was stopped dead. Now he was confused. Denial was not what he expected. He wanted tears, rage, a fight, an event. He was not ready for rebuttal. He grabbed the photograph off the table and thrust it at Eddie.

  “Then what the hell is this?” he demanded.

  Eddie looked at the photo carefully and shrugged.

  “Who took that?”

  “Do you deny it? It’s proof you shared a bed!”

  Eddie laughed.

  “Yeah, you’re right. You want to know what happened? A kid drowned right outside this house a few nights ago and they were here all night dragging the bay. It upset her so much she couldn’t sleep in a room by herself. I don’t know if you can tell from this lousy picture, but we’re both fully dressed.”

  Robert snatched the photo away from Eddie and studied it carefully.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Look, Buddy, she’s told me you guys have been having a hard go of it, and I respect that. I rent out a room, that’s all. She needed to stay someplace that could take a dog and I said I could take her in here. I can use the money with my arm like this. But if you think we’re sleeping together and that’s what this is all about, you’re dead wrong. I’m not interested in her. She’s not my type. To tell you the truth, both of you are just screwed-up city folk to me.”

  Eddie’s words were like icy spears shooting through Jenna’s chest. What was he saying? He was lying. She knew he was lying. He loved her. Why was he doing this to her?

  But then she saw why. Robert had dropped his shoulders and crumpled the photograph into a tiny ball. He was looking down at the floor, breathing heavily, not moving. Eddie was biting his lower lip and staring at Robert, afraid to look toward Jenna. He couldn’t bring himself to meet eyes with Jenna because he knew he wouldn’t be able to carry it off.

  Eddie knew the truth. That’s why he had said those things. He knew that whether or not he and Jenna had slept together was beside the point. There were other issues that had to be resolved.

  Eddie patted Robert on the shoulder.

  “Look, buddy, I’ll take a walk and you two can talk this out, but I promise you, I have no interest in your wife. No interest whatsoever.”

  Without a backward glance at Jenna, Eddie moved to the door.

  “C’mon, Oscar,” he called, and Oscar ran to his side. Eddie put the leash on Oscar and they went outside, leaving Robert and Jenna alone in the dim house.

  Robert turned to Jenna and lifted his hands to her, palms up, in a plea for understanding.

  “I don’t know what happened,” he said quietly. “I don’t know where we went wrong.”

  Jenna didn’t look into his eyes; she looked at his hands. And through his gesture she could feel the gap that existed between them.

  Jenna knew where they went wrong. She knew what happened.

  IT WAS A BAD DAY from start to finish. When Jenna got up, Robert had already left for the day and the house seemed huge and empty. The black ice on the street had caused a truck to hit a tree that fell across a telephone wire and knocked out the cable TV, so Jenna couldn’t watch the morning talk shows. Then Mrs. Osborne called from the Children’s Theater Workshop and asked if Bobby was planning on returning for the spring program, since he had such a wonderful time the previous year. Jenna told her Bobby was dead and was not planning on making a comeback, but if he did, by chance, Mrs. Osborne would be the first to know.

  Jenna was too depressed to make her appointment with the psychiatrist, so she called and feigned disease. Her sinuses were killing her, a splitting headache that made normal thought patterns all but impossible. She didn’t get out of her pajamas all day, and by early afternoon she felt dirty and ugly. So she finally decided she would fix herself up and maybe feel better. When Robert got home, they might even go out to dinner.

  She took a long, hot bath, in the middle of which she thought she might treat herself to a little glass of wine, just to open her sinuses and make her relax a little. And maybe just a baby Valium, a little one, because she was so tense maybe it would break the ice and she could get out from under this dark cloud.

  The wine and the Valium and the bath actually worked, and Jenna felt a thousand percent better. It was about three, and she thought maybe she would do her nails because they looked like hell and maybe it would make her feel better. So she got a little more wine, just a splash, she didn’t want to get drunk or anything because that would be depressing, and set about painting her toes and fingers, no small task, and the cable was back, just in time for the afternoon shows, which weren’t as good as the morning shows, but they would do.

  When she was done, she felt about two thousand percent better, and she thought, being on a roll and all, maybe she would get all dressed up. That way, when Robert came home, maybe he would be happy. Maybe she would give him a blow job, since they hadn’t had sex in she didn’t know how long and she could sense he was getting a little restless, constantly touching her breasts at night and all.

  So she put on some sexy lingerie, black push-up bra, garter belt and stockings with the seam, and her tight black dress that showed a lot of cleavage and a lot of thigh. She looked pretty good standing in front of the mirror with her hair coiled up on top of her head. Maybe she was a little fat, though. She’d pretty much stopped exercising altogether, though she occasionally danced around in front of the TV. She’d have to get back on track with that. She put on some bright red lipstick that she hadn’t used in years and enjoyed watching the color spread over her otherwise pale lips. Now her shoes. She wanted to find her nice black pumps, the ones that hurt to walk in, because they made her legs look the best and she knew Robert liked them and they wouldn’t really be walking anywhere anyway. She didn’t remember where they were. Maybe up in t
he closet. She had reorganized a long time ago and some things were lost forever because of that.

  Sure enough, there they were, up on top in the black box, and she had to stand on a chair to get them down. Right behind them were some papers that she didn’t remember. She didn’t know how they could have gotten there. After the reorganization there were no more loose papers stashed away like that. She pulled them down, figuring she would put them away later, and slipped on the shoes, a good fit.

  There she was, a little before six o’clock, all dressed up and looking good. Now she felt about six thousand percent better and she was really glad she had taken the time to fix herself up. It was time to shrug it all off, the black cloak she had been wearing pulled up around her ears for the past six months. How many months now? August, September, October, November, December, January, February. Seven months. Seven months of pure hell, and now she was going to put it aside and be herself again. Maybe a little sip of wine would put a nice finishing touch on the afternoon, before Robert gets home. It would be hell if he caught her drinking in the day again. He was constantly badgering her about her drinking. It was only wine. Nothing hard. A soft yellow warm liquid. Really quite harmless.

  She went into the kitchen with her glass and the stack of papers she had found, maybe she would file them now, and filled the glass a little more than she normally would have because she was putting the bottle away and thought she could have a little bonus. One for the road. Sitting at the table, she took the rubber band off the envelopes and looked at them. Most were from a bank and addressed to Robert. First Interstate Bank. That’s strange. That’s not their bank. The last envelope was a business envelope. It had a logo on it, but nothing else. RGB.

  The first statement was for August and it said seventy-two thousand dollars. Each month the amount went up because of all the interest, until the last one, for January, which was $73,512.55. Seven three five one two five five. A pretty penny. Why did Robert have that kind of money sitting around in a bank?

 

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