Idaho Code Page 15

  “Why would I want you to do that? Surely you don’t think . . . Bil, your mother and I have wondered about you for ages. We talked about it only last week, when that friend of yours, A. J., was calling all the time. She said you’d left her house early on Monday morning and that she was worried about you. Your mother wasn’t sure but I told her, look, no one Bil’s age has slumber parties. She was all for asking you flat out. I told her to mind her own business. I said that when you were ready for us to know, you’d tell us.”

  I sat back in Edith Bunker, dumbfounded. “But Dad, what was all that about thinking Mom might have mentioned it to you? I thought you were furious—furious at me.”

  He rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. “Your mother’s a fine woman, Bil, and a wonderful parent, but sometimes she thinks she’s the only one who needs to know anything. She keeps things from me, doesn’t tell me things she thinks will upset me. I appreciate that she’s trying to spare my feelings, but I don’t need protecting, and no one needs to be protected from me. I don’t have a bad temper, and I’m not a moron. Sometimes, I’d like to deal with you kids without the benefit of a mediator.”

  He’d given me nearly as much to chew on as I’d given him. “So, you’re not mad at me?”

  “For being a lesbian? Of course not. It wouldn’t make sense, would it? I might as well be angry that it rains so many days, snows so many others, and that the sun shines all the rest. It’s a fact of nature. What’s the estimate, ten percent of the population? That seems about right to me. Your mother opened my eyes to that.”

  “My mother opened your eyes?” I was afraid to ask, and yet I couldn’t let it go.

  “Of course. Who do you think she met in all those consciousness-raising groups? Lesbians galore.”

  “Dad,” I laughed, “you’re amazing.”

  “Hmmph,” he snorted, clearly embarrassed. “No such thing. Now, how about that coffee?”

  “Why not?” After all, it was a Pacific Northwest tradition. Coffee is to us what tea is to the British, the universal panacea.

  I used the phone in my bedroom to call Sarah. She wasn’t at home, so I tried her at work. She answered on the seventh ring.

  “Hi, Sarah,” I said.

  “Go away, Bil,” she replied.

  “Why so hostile?”

  “Because I’m busier than a two-peckered owl in a hen house.”

  “On a Sunday?”

  She sighed. “Yes, on a Sunday. I was supposed to be off this weekend, but half the reference department is out with the flu, the computer system has gone down, and we’re having to check out books on little slips of paper. I’ve just been made the network coordinator, so it’s my job to coordinate getting the system back up.”

  “Do you have time to do me a favor?”

  “You’re a pest,” she laughed. “All right, what is it?” When I’d told her what I wanted, she said, “I see you’ve chosen to ignore my advice about not getting dragged into Sam’s messes. When will you learn? There’s nothing you can do, Bil. If they find a match, they find a match.”

  “I know, but . . .”

  “But you can’t help yourself. Very well. I’ll take a look through the index for the Cowslip Herald-Examiner.”

  “What about the national newspapers?”

  “They were small-town gossip, Bil, not nationwide news.”

  “Just asking. When do you think you’ll have time to look?”

  “Would you like a fat lip? I’ll get to it. Any more questions?”

  I thought for a moment. “Did you get a raise when they made you network coordinator?”

  “Yeah,” she laughed. “I can take two extra pencils a month from the supply cabinet.”

  I lounged around in the living room for another fifteen minutes, waiting for Emma to come home. The lack of sleep was catching up with me, but I had an idea. I wanted to get a closer look at Kate Wood’s farm, and I wasn’t due at the booth for another hour and a half. I stood up and stretched. If I were late, then Suzy could cover for me; he owed me that much.

  “Dad,” I said, “I’ve got to go. If you see Emma before I do, and she doesn’t know already, go ahead and tell her.”

  He looked up and smiled broadly. “Really?”

  “Really. Tell her we had a long talk, and that I asked you to tell her.”

  “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  “Positive. You’d be doing me a favor, and besides . . .”

  “You think it would be funny?” I nodded. He laughed. “I’ll do it.”

  On my way out, I swiped my father’s binoculars and changed from loafers to boots. I couldn’t find my hiking boots, so I had to wear my new Dr. Martens. The drive to Tipper’s gave me time to think. I would cross the top of the ridge, drop down on the other side, and look around without the dogs bothering me. I supposed I could just drive up to the house and say I was looking for Sylvie, but I didn’t feel ready to face Kate.

  Fort Sister’s gate was open, and I drove straight up to the front door. Captain Schwartz was practicing with the black powder rifle. In my opinion, the highlight of Pioneer Days—if you could call it a highlight—was the black powder turkey shoot. The contestants shot at targets and won frozen turkeys, sacks of potatoes, and certificates for free tire rotations. The competition was fierce, and the Captain had never left empty-handed.

  She had on her hearing protection, so I waved and pointed in the direction of the dugouts. She nodded and smiled. I could imagine what she was thinking—I’d arrived to clear up the assorted detritus of my wild night. I walked on quickly.

  It was certainly easier to climb the ridge in broad daylight. The path was well worn, both by the residents of Fort Sister and by deer, moose, and, judging from the tracks, a couple of elk. I passed over the summit and sat down once again on the foundation of the ruined house. I could just make out the roof of the barn and a little of the yard beyond. I looked through the binoculars. A white dog danced in and out of view, barking occasionally. That would be Priscilla. I didn’t see Elvis, nor could I see anything else.

  It was no good. I had to move closer. I edged my way down the hillside with some difficulty on the narrow and overgrown path. About halfway down, my feet began to hurt and I wished I’d stuck to my loafers. As I paused to loosen the laces, I realized that I was in some sort of microclimate. The temperature was several degrees colder on this side of the ridge. I made my way down until I could see the barn again, stopping at the edge of the trees. I was about a hundred yards away, and now I had a clear view of the house. I sat down on a stump and looked through the binoculars.

  Someone was standing at the kitchen window, looking down. I could see the top of a blond head. I thought it was Kate, though I couldn’t be sure.

  “Come on,” I said, “look up.”

  The barking, which had become infrequent, now resumed with fresh intensity. I put the binoculars down. Priscilla had heard, seen, or sniffed me, and she wasn’t happy about it. Fortunately, she was on a cable tied somewhere around the front of the barn, and though she strained against it, she didn’t get very far. I trained the binoculars on the kitchen window again.

  It was definitely Kate. She’d looked up and was tapping on the window, mouthing something. Probably telling the dog to shut up. She looked up the hillside, directly at me, and I froze. I was sitting beneath a large fir tree, and though I was fairly certain she couldn’t see me, any movement might give me away. My mother could look up the hillside behind our house and spot a deer in the distance, just by the flash of its tail. Eventually, Kate looked away. Then, she disappeared.

  I followed the edge of the trees around to the side of the house, keeping my same distance. Now that she’d spotted me, the dog was going to bark no matter what. No wonder Sylvie couldn’t have her in town. Priscilla never shut up.

  I made my way over until I was facing the back door; only the screen door was closed. Fortunately, it was an old wooden one, with screens on both the top and bottom. I could see two women sitti
ng at the kitchen table. One of them was Kate. The other woman had her back to the door. I edged closer, leaving the cover of the trees just long enough to run to a large bush at the side of the barn about ten feet away. Kate was talking, and her companion was nodding, a cloud of smoke swirling up around her head.

  Hugh’s binoculars were a birthday present from me, and I began to wish I’d been a little more generous. Though I couldn’t get a good look at the companion, I did notice a familiar-looking purse at her feet. My mother was sitting in Kate Wood’s kitchen, smoking like a chimney.

  I pushed down a couple of branches and focused my binoculars. I’d just made out the back of Emma’s head when my field of vision was blocked by something large and black. A massive dog stood at the screen door staring out in my direction. Elvis. When Sylvie and I had sat up at the ruined house the night before, she’d said he was a Lab cross, and I’d pictured something fat and lazy. This dog looked like a cross between a wolf and the hound of the Baskervilles. He stood very still, silently waiting. Priscilla stopped barking and wagged her tail furiously. Kate stood up, and I ducked back behind the bush, dreading what I was sure would happen next. She’d let that monster out, and he’d make straight for me.

  I had two choices. One, I could sit still and hope for the best. Perhaps if I seemed submissive, he wouldn’t tear my throat out. My other option was to run like hell up the hillside and take my chances that they would see me. Even if they did, I reasoned, one blurred ass in jeans looks much like another. I had just settled on option two when I heard the crunch of tires on gravel. Someone else had arrived. Kate took Elvis by the collar and led him out the back door. She freed Priscilla, who ignored Kate’s calls and made her way straight up to my hiding place. Kate turned her attention back to Elvis and hooked him onto the cable. My mother got up and looked out the screen door.

  Priscilla had reached me now, effectively blocking my view. She was dancing happily, her tail curling over her back. She sniffed at my face and hands, then gave me a tentative lick. Kate called her again. Her voice sounded surprisingly close. Priscilla looked down the hillside and then back at me, her head cocked to one side.

  “Go away,” I said in a low voice. “Go on.”

  She seemed to be smiling at me, if a dog can smile, but she backed up.

  “Priscilla! Get down here! Heel!” I guessed Kate was halfway up the hillside. “Don’t make me come after you, Prissy.”

  “Piss off,” I said, frowning at the dog. “Grrrr.”

  Priscilla gave me one final sniff and bounded off. I whispered a prayer to the god of narrow escapes. It was interrupted by a cry and the sound of someone falling down the hillside. I looked out from behind the bush. Priscilla had spotted the new arrival, and in her haste to cover him with sloppy dog kisses, she’d knocked Kate over.

  I froze. The new arrival was Fairfax Merwin. Emma stood in the doorway, smoking a cigarette and watching him walk up the driveway. Neither of them was paying any attention to Kate, who was rocking back and forth, holding her ankle.

  I made a snap decision. I dropped the binoculars behind the bush, brushed myself off, and stepped out into the open.

  “Here, Kate,” I said. “Let me help you.”

  Chapter 14

  The ankle was twisted, not broken. As soon as I’d gotten Kate down the hillside, my mother got her to move it from side to side while she felt the bones beneath the swelling. I thought she should have an X-ray, but I was overruled. When we were inside and Kate was sitting at the kitchen table, her ankle propped up on a chair and packed with ice, my mother went on the offensive.

  “Let’s see,” she said, “I believe I last saw you on Friday afternoon. You’re my daughter, Bil, aren’t you? The tall black-haired one between Sarah and Sam.”

  “Don’t start with me, Emma,” I replied. “I was at Tipper’s on Friday night, and I gave someone a ride home from the festival yesterday.”

  “A twenty-four-hour drive? She must live in Anaheim.”

  “How do you know it’s a she? Been talking to Granny?”

  Fairfax sat bolt upright in his chair. My mother looked puzzled. “I expect your grandmother’s not speaking to me. I missed yesterday’s performance.”

  “You certainly did,” Fairfax observed, casting a sly glance in my direction.

  Fortunately, Emma changed the subject. “Never mind that now. You swooped down that hillside like the wrath of God. What are you doing here?”

  I might ask you the same thing, I thought.

  “I went for a hike. Fort Sister is on the other side of the ridge, you know. There’s a ruined house at the top. I sat up there for a while and then decided to walk down this way.” I stopped myself from going on. Too much explanation would be worse than none at all.

  “Hmm,” Emma said. She sat back in her chair and toyed with a pack of cigarettes, shaking one out and then tapping it back in. When she noticed me staring at her, she offered one to Kate, and they both lit up.

  Fairfax waved a hand in front of his face, feigning asphyxiation.

  “I came,” he said, “on my way to the festival. To see how you were doing.”

  Kate inhaled deeply and blew out a thick column of smoke into his face. He sputtered, and Emma smiled.

  “This house,” said Kate, “isn’t on the way to the park.”

  “It’s not out of the way,” he replied, making an obvious effort to keep the smile plastered on his face. “I thought it would be better to visit than to call. The telephone is so impersonal.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here,” Kate said.

  Though I didn’t particularly like Fairfax, I was surprised by the hostility in her voice. Fairfax was a show-off and a phony who thought a good deal too much of himself. He was the manager of Pioneers Bank, the first and still the largest bank in Cowslip, and he’d helped to engineer its expansion from a local operation into a regional one. It was still small potatoes, but to hear him tell it, you’d think he was Donald Trump.

  He said calmly, “Agnes and I have been worried about you, Kate. I know this is a difficult time for you and . . .”

  “No, it isn’t. I had a difficult time before Burt left, not after. You know that.”

  “I knew Burt,” he agreed. “I knew him quite well.”

  Emma leaned forward and stared at him, resting her elbows on the table. “I didn’t know that. I knew you were close to Frank, but not Burt. Isn’t that so, Kate?”

  “Could be,” she shrugged. “I wasn’t privy to most of Burt’s social interactions.”

  Kate looked tired. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, which accentuated the tiny wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. She turned to me and smiled. “My ankle is throbbing, Bil, would you mind getting me a couple of Tylenol out of the bathroom cabinet? Upstairs, second door on your right. They’re in the medicine cabinet.”

  I left the room reluctantly, feeling as if I were six years old again. I considered pausing outside the door and eavesdropping, but that trick hadn’t worked when I was six, and it wouldn’t work now. They’d expect to hear my footsteps on the stairs.

  I found the Tylenol in short order and headed back down the stairs. I handed the pills to Kate and sat back down.

  Emma said, “How about a glass of water? She can’t swallow them dry.”

  “The glasses are in the cupboard next to the sink, Bil,” Kate smiled. “Thanks, by the way.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The kitchen window looked out at the barn door, which was closed, Elvis lying in front of it like a sphinx. To the left was the line of syringas Sylvie had described. If she were right, Burt’s body was somewhere beneath the one nearest the barn. Suppressing a shudder, I filled the water glass and returned to the table.

  Emma sat with her back to the door, just like before. I looked past her, through the screen door to the bush where I’d been sitting. I was sure now that I hadn’t been visible, at least not to anyone sitting in the kitchen. As I watched, something suddenly
moved. A shadow shifted to one side and then quickly moved back. Someone was up there watching us now, just as I’d done earlier.

  Fairfax pushed his chair back and stood up.

  “Well, I must be going,” he said. “I have a lot of preparations to make before this evening’s performance. Will you all be in attendance?”

  “I expect so,” my mother said. “How about you, Kate?”

  “I’ll hobble in. Sylvie has a line in it, and I’d like to see her. She begged me not to come, but perhaps I’ll be able to hide somewhere on the back row.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be there,” he said.

  I was concentrating on the figure on the hillside, so it was a moment or two before I realized he was talking to me.

  “Sorry?”

  “I’ll see you tonight.” He gave me a wry, knowing smile. “I don’t suppose you’ll want to miss the performance.”

  “I’ll be there,” I said shortly.

  “Well, I’m off.” He smoothed the hair over his bald spot. “If you need anything, Kate, I hope you’ll call us. Agnes has been very upset by all of this.”

  “I’m sure she has,” Kate replied calmly. “She knows my number. Tell her to call me if it gets to be too much.”

  Fairfax was tall, and for a moment, his figure in the doorway blotted out my view of the hillside. I stared long and hard at the spot after he left, but it was no use. The shadow was gone.

  “Cheesy bastard,” my mother said. “Offering his condolences. Nosing around, more like.”

  “Oh, I expected that. It’ll all die down soon enough.”

  “We’ll see.” Emma shook out a cigarette and tapped the filter on the table. She turned to me. “So Bil, can I give you a lift to Fort Sister, or would you prefer to hike back over the hill?”

  I wanted to retrieve my father’s binoculars and look for signs of the spy who’d assumed my place behind the bushes. I also wanted a chance to talk to Emma alone. Sylvie could pick up the binoculars later. There was no chance that Kate would venture up the hill again in the next couple of days.