by E A Comiskey
More laughing.
“Right, right. Well, listen old boy. I got her phone, but she got my car. Yes, yes. The Cadillac. It’s a loss, but we all must find the will to carry on.”
A long pause.
“That’s an apt deduction.”
Another pause.
“Precisely that, but double it.”
His face grew serious to the point of solemnity. His eyes flicked to Richard and away again.
“I’m not certain. Perhaps.”
Laughing again.
“All right then, I will. Yes. Room six. Yes. Thank you.”
Richard knew, when the young man showed up with a delivery, what the call had been about, but he would have given a great deal to have heard the other end of the conversation.
Too bad he didn’t have a great deal to give. He didn’t even have his ugly new Walmart clothes anymore. He supposed, at some point, he’d have to let Burke know they needed to stop for socks and underpants, but how did a man ask his granddaughter for a thing like that? Better to wait.
He focused on the screen of the computer, where she pointed. “You’re right,” she said. “There are an unusual number of disappearances in this area, right where the Colorado, Nebraska, and Kansas state lines intersect, but you said that a hidebehind is a forest creature.”
“That’s right,” Stanley said.
“That area isn’t forested. There aren’t many trees, at all. In fact, there isn’t much of anything other than nothing and more nothing. We can drive right up to the state lines on this little road, here.” She pointed. “But unless your hidebehind is hiding behind a few rocks and shrubs, that’s not what’s taking people.”
“There are trees here.” Richard pointed. “Looks like a river.”
“Is that enough coverage for your monster?” Burke asked.
Stanley rubbed his chin with his fingertips. “It’s unlikely, but possible. I can’t think what else might be doing this. The attacks have all the signs of a hidebehind.”
“If you’re uncertain, is the mission off?” Richard asked. The idea caused equal measures of relief and disappointment.
“No,” Burke said. “Thirteen people have disappeared in that area in the last ten years. If we can stop it from taking another life, we have to do it.”
Stanley beamed at her. “I like your spirit, young lady.”
She scowled at him. “I’m still fairly angry with you.”
He waved away her words. “It’ll pass, my dear. It looks like your best bet is to take that road to the edge of that stand of trees right there. We can park around twilight and then we’ll begin the hunt.”
“You mean I’ll begin the hunt,” Richard grumbled. “Old man going into the woods alone to hunt a monster. Must be nuttier than a squirrel turd to be goin’ along with all this.”
“You’re not going alone, Grandpa. I’m coming with you.”
Stanley continued staring at the map and rubbing his chin. The discussion seemed to have no effect on him.
Richard stated the obvious, “You can’t come with me.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because you’re—” He gestured toward her body. “You know…”
She set the computer next to Stanley and leaned back in the chair, crossing her legs and arms and lifting her chin a little. “I’m what?”
Richard was in trouble. He wasn’t sure why, or how much, but he had enough experience with women to recognize that particular narrowing of the eyes. “I just… It’s not safe, you know. And hunting, it’s…well…it’s a man’s domain.”
“Oh, a man’s domain. I see.”
He had to hold his ground. To do otherwise would invite disaster. “Yes. That’s right. A man’s domain. Your generation just lets everyone do what they want, all higgledy-piggledy, and it’s a mess. Men need to be men and women need to be women and right now you need to let the men sort this out.”
“Fine.” She stood up. “Good luck sorting it out without a car, gentlemen.”
“Do you know how to use a revolver?” Stanley asked, effectively stopping her from walking away.
“I’m a quick study.”
“Good. Come here and I’ll show you both.”
Richard glared at Stanley. “I shoulda figured you’d side with the girl.”
Burke threw her hands in the air and let them fall with a smack against her legs. “Seriously, Grandpa. Don’t you ever have anything good to say? Look at me and tell me you see zero advantage in having me with you on this hunt.”
Taken aback by her brusque tone, he did what she asked and looked at her. She stood before him, young and tall and slender. She wore sweatpants that stretched over muscular thighs. Her arms were toned and strong. Vaguely, he remembered his daughter telling him that Burke had become obsessed with physical fitness after her divorce. The reality was, he now realized, she was probably stronger and more fit than he was, but he wouldn’t have admitted that out loud for all the tea in China. Instead, he groped for something nice to say that would not reflect so poorly on his own condition. “I suppose your dark skin will give you good cover in the night.”
She closed her eyes and stood still as a statue.
“What? I’m just sayin’ that’s one advantage you have over me.”
“Yeah. Okay. Fine. Thanks, Grandpa.” She sat down again, facing Stanley. “Show us what to do.”
Stanley nodded, lifting one of the guns from the bed. “This is the safety,” he began.
Richard paid close attention, but every so often, he peeked over at his granddaughter. It struck him that he didn’t really know her, at all.
***
Burke’s trip to the Dollar General store yielded clean socks and underpants, and a Denver Broncos sweatshirt. None of it was what he would have chosen, but it fit. She’d tossed the bright yellow bag on the bed without saying a word.
Richard showered and dressed in similar silence, and no longer smelled like he slept in a gutter. Now he stood in front of the streaked mirror, shaving with the cheap disposable razor he’d found tucked in among the clothes.
“May I make an observation?” Stanley asked from his perch on the bed.
“Can’t stop ya,” Richard said.
“There’s obviously bad blood between you and your daughter and her daughter.”
Richard’s hand trembled. He gripped the razor tighter to stop it. “You don’t know nothin’ ‘bout it.”
“That’s true.”
“Then you ain’t got no place to say nothin’.”
“Fair enough, it’s just that—”
“Just what?” Richard asked, tossing the razor onto the counter and wiping his face with one of the small, scratchy towels. “You think you know everything about everything. You think you’re so much better than me you can tell me how I should act with my own family? Maybe you spent your life savin’ the world and all, and you think someone like me is just some backwoods hillbilly factory worker who don’t know Adam from a hole in the ground.”
“I was going to say, it’s just that I’m a little envious of you.”
If he’d punched Richard in the gut, he couldn’t have silenced him more effectively.
He went on, “When I was a boy, I was given a job to do. For years, I assumed I would do it, and then some day it would be done. By the time I realized it wasn’t that kind of job, it was too late. Everyone I’d ever loved was gone. I was too old to have a family of my own. I’m alone, Dick. I’ve always been alone. I will always be alone, until the day I die, and I suppose when that day comes, I will die alone.
“I envy you a great deal for having had the chance to make a family, live a life. I don’t know what happened, but whatever it was, it’s not too late to fix it. You have a fantastic opportunity that I will never have. You have the opportunity to love and be loved.”
Richard walked over to the second bed and sat on the edge. “You don’t understand how it is.” Thoughts and memories flashed through his mind, too fast to process.
“
It all has to do with Barbara?”
He nodded. “Yeah. She…she was everything.” He forced a sad little laugh to cover up the crack in his voice. “I don’t know what she ever saw in a fool like me. She coulda had anybody she wanted. She coulda, but she picked me. Picked me over all the others. Can you imagine?”
“She must have loved you very much.”
“I loved her. I never knew I could love like that. When she got sick, I woulda given anything to save her. Anything, at all. I woulda died in her place without a second thought. ‘Course, life don’t work out that way, does it?” He sniffed and squared his shoulders. “She went on to a better place and I was father to this little girl. What did I know about little girls? I didn’t give her half of what she needed.”
“I’d be willing to bet you gave her the very best you could.”
“Well, what’s that to a kid? My best wasn’t ever gonna be enough. At my best, I couldn’t be a mother. I thought maybe I should marry, just to give her a mom, but I couldn’t bear the thought. My wife was gone, and I couldn’t imagine anyone else by my side.
“She grew up and married the first dirty hippie she met in college. She coulda done better. She weren’t a bad girl. Flighty, but not bad, but she settled. Wanted a real family, I suppose. Never brought the kid around much.”
“That’s not fair,” Burke said, stepping through the door that adjoined the two rooms. Her wet hair was still wrapped in a towel. Her arms were crossed tight across her chest. “My father was a great man, not a dirty hippie. He was a soil conservationist for the US government. He was faithful to my mom, took great care of her, and was an amazing father until the day he died. Even after. He left that life insurance policy so Mom never had to worry about money.”
“I still say she could have done better,” Richard growled. It felt better to feed his anger than to admit embarrassment at having been caught pouring out his heart to frickin’ Stan Kapcheck, of all people.
“Why?” she asked.
“What?”
“Why? What was wrong with him?”
“It ain’t natural. All that hug-a-whale crap.”
“You have something against the people who take care of the planet?” She took another step into the room.
“God gave man dominion over the earth.”
“Right. God gave man the task of caring for the earth. Which is exactly what my father did.”
“That may be, but that don’t change the fact he was... “
She took another step. “He was what?”
Richard fought the urge to shy away from her. “He wasn’t a good match for my daughter.”
“Why not?” She was practically right next to him now, staring down at him. Was she taller than him? She must be. She seemed like a giant, at that moment.
“It’s not natural, kid.”
She gritted her teeth. “You have always hated my father because he was Black.”
Richard was on his feet in an instant. “Hold on, now. That’s not right. I never hated him.”
“You just don’t think he’s good enough to be part of your family.”
“It ain’t a question of good or bad. It just ain’t natural.” He stood his ground, staring up into her dark eyes. She was taller than him. How had he never noticed that before?
“Not sixty seconds ago, you said he wasn’t good enough for her.”
“That’s not what I meant. You’re twisting my words.” It would help if she got hysterical like her mother. This cold, quiet assault was terrifying.
“I just meant he weren’t a good match for her. Not that he weren’t a fine man, but he weren’t the right man for her.”
“Because he’s Black.” She glared down at him, teeth clenched so hard the muscle in her jaw jumped.
“Look what happens,” he said, sensing he was in deep and desperate to dig his way out.
“I happened.”
“That’s right, and you don’t fit in neither world. You married a white man, and what’d he do? He left you for a white woman. If you’d a married a Black man, the same thing woulda happened. You’re a good girl, Burke, but your parents saddled you with a curse.”
“You’re a fool. You’re cruel and you’re hateful. The only curse I’m saddled with is the ignorance of my ancestors. Mom put you in that home because she wouldn’t have someone in her house acting disrespectfully toward her family under her own roof.”
“I ain’t sayin’ a thing against you, Burke!” he heard the plaintive tone in his voice.
Her cool facade shattered and flew at him in glittering words of fury, “Every word you say is against me. I can never be good enough. I can never be the grandchild you wanted. I can’t change what you hate about me. I’m Black and that’s all I will ever be in your eyes. I graduated valedictorian from an ivy league college—an ivy league college that my Negro father paid for, thank you very much. I made more developing software in my first year out of school than you made in your life, but you don’t tell people about your granddaughter, the successful entrepreneur. You whisper to them about the melanin in my skin.”
She tilted her head and closed her eyes, as though she couldn’t bear the sight of him one moment longer. Then, with her voice modulated down to the silky softness of a feather, she said, “You say my grandmother was the most wonderful woman in the world. You say you lost your purpose, because you lost her, and never once did you stop to think that she lives on. If you could look past my dark skin, you’d see her features on my face, you’d see it’s her great, analytic mind that allows me to do what I do. You would see that it’s her powerful strength that pushes me toward success in a world filled with racist, bigoted jerks who would hold me down.
“But all you see is the daughter of a Negro.”
She turned away from him and went back to her own room. The door separating them closed with a quiet, definite click.
Richard stood helpless against the tears that ran down his cheeks. He stepped into the bathroom and shut the door. He couldn’t bear to see the pity that must fill Stanley’s eyes. He was right that he’d lost everything, but it wasn’t fate that had taken it from him. He’d lost it all because he was too stupid to hold on to it when he’d had it.
Chapter Twenty
Burke
Burke paced her room, a tiger trapped in a cage. Her heart would burst from the pressure. She would scream. If anyone walked in, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind she had it in her to knock them out cold. Unable to stand the confinement of the ugly little room, she snatched the keys off the table and burst out into the wide-open space of the parking lot.
Her pulse slowed. By the time she had the SUV started, her hands were once again calm and steady. She made a large circle around the perimeter of the town, then serpentined up and down the little residential streets, crossed the North Fork Republican river half a dozen times, and finally found herself at the Creekside Tavern, only a few blocks from the motel.
The little place was clean and bright. Lunch was over and the early dinner crowd hadn’t yet shown up, so only two of the sturdy, polished-wood tables were occupied. She sat at the bar between two tall brick pillars and ordered a glass of wine from a woman of indeterminate age with long silver hair tied back in a tight French braid, silver eyeliner, silver lipstick, and hints of glitter on her high cheekbones.
“Anything else?” the woman asked. “We’ve got amazing fries.”
Burke smiled. “No, thanks, I’m good.”
She went back to rolling silverware inside napkins. “You new in town?”
“Just visiting,” Burke said.
The girl nodded. “I figured you weren’t a local. Two thousand people in this town. I swear, I know every one of them, and they’re all related.”
“You ever get bored?”
Her smile was pretty in a strange, wide-mouthed sort of way. “What difference would it make if I did?”
Burke sipped the wine. It was cheap, too dry, and it burned her throat. “There are other towns.”
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“Not for me.”
“Why not?”
The girl placed the last set of silverware on top of the pile in the black plastic tub and moved the whole thing to the end of the bar. She came back and leaned one soft round hip against the counter. “My family has been here a long time. We’re sort-of tied to the land, I guess you could say.”
Burke took another sip. The second one burned less. “Yeah. Home can be like that for some folks, I hear.”
“Not for you?”
“I don’t know.” She swirled the crimson liquid in the glass. Maybe all the answers to life’s problems would appear to her in the sloshing liquid. “I guess I’ve been restless for a while. Since I got divorced.”
“Mmm.” The girl nodded. “Makes sense.”
“Does it?”
“Sure. Hard to start a new life in the same old place.”
“Yeah,” Burke agreed. Nothing had appeared in the glass except little streaks of sugar that didn’t look like anything but what they were. “No. That’s not it.” She drank deeply. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot. I don’t have a thing to do until someone else orders a drink.”
“What’s your name?”
“People call me Wiper.”
“I’m Burke. Nice to meet you.”
The two women shook hands over the counter.
“So, tell me, Wiper, do you believe in the supernatural?”
The girl threw her head back and laughed. Her giggles sounded like a stream tripping over smooth stones. Something about it was soothing and peaceful.
“Sorry. I guess that was a crazy question.”
She waved Burke’s apology away. “No, no. Not crazy. Just…sorry. Some things strike me funny at the strangest times. Do I believe in the supernatural? What exactly do you mean by that?”
Talking about this was absurd. She’d be admitted to an asylum if she told anyone why she came to Wray.
“Come on, you have to tell me now. Don’t leave me dying of curiosity.”
Burke finished the wine but kept the stem of the glass between her fidgeting fingers. “I guess I just wonder if you think there’s stuff out there that’s…you know…bigger than us. Different than us. Stuff that goes bump in the night.”