Home Fires

by W L Ripley

  Leo the Lion came in wearing well-worn jeans, wolverine boots, a seed corn baseball cap and a long-sleeved Tee-shirt that read, “Dear Algebra, Stop asking me to find your X, she’s not coming back”. Leo’s hair was receding, and he had a D’Artagnan beard and mustache. Leo looked and dressed less like a coach or teacher than most, but Leo was one of the best. Leo removed his cap when he entered. Jake stood and they shook hands.

  “Well, superstar,” Leo said. “You miss me?”

  “Some,” Jake said. They made smalltalk, catching up. It was like they’d seen each other yesterday. That kind of friend.

  Leo saying, “So you slip into town, get in a bar fight, are arrested and then involved in a shoot-out in the bank. You’re as subtle as a cherry bomb.”

  “You know how I like attention.”

  “Haven’t seen you since... You missed your father’s funeral. What’s that about? Your family passes, you come home, and you go to the funeral. You do what’s right.”

  “I was busy.”

  Leo shaking his head, his eyes fixed on Jake. Leo Lyon was the most intelligent person Jake knew. Teaching math at the local high school since they graduated from college. Leo never left Paradise, and personally considered himself to be the foremost historian of Paradise lore and genealogy. Mathematician’s brain and the arms of a logger. An all-district running back who could bench 400 pounds.

  “Some other time.”

  Leo gave him a sideways look, and then nodded. “That’ll work.” Jake could see his friend wasn’t convinced. “Thought you were some kind of cop down in Texas.”

  “Some kind. Saw Buddy this morning.”

  “Buddy Johnson is what everyone hopes their kid grows up to be. Hard to believe he works for Kellogg. You knew Kellogg was the sheriff, right?” Having fun saying it.

  Jake nodded. “Pondering why you and Buddy find that amusing. Many changes around here.”

  “Well, prosperity broke out and now we have cookie cutter restaurant franchises and the train station is operating again. We have McDonald’s and Applebee’s and the keys to happiness.”

  “And you never eat either place, do you?”

  “On a scale of one to ‘no’. Never.”

  “And, Vernon Mitchell got in on the ground floor of all that. Sound about right?”

  “Yeah, he’s got pretty fat. He’s still a...hey, what were you doing down there in Texas, exactly? Hard for me to see you running off without saying anything. Seems you had a life here.”

  The door opened and the little bell ringer on the door sounded and people looked up. Jake too.

  And, there she was.

  Pam Kellogg. Now Pam Mitchell. She was alone. Leo looked at Pam and then at Jake who was looking at Pam who was looking at Jake. “Easy, Jake,” Leo said, the points of his mustache rising merrily. “Don’t let your hormones run away with your mind.”

  Pam looked straight at Jake and smiled. “Jake Morgan. The boy who got away. Oh my god, it is you, isn’t it?”

  “How are you, Pam?”

  He stood and they hugged, Pam pressing against him longer than a moment and Jake felt things slide sideways in his head.

  Pam greeted Leo and Leo returned it and she sat without being asked.

  They ordered. Pam ordered a half chef salad for herself. “Have to watch my weight you know,” she said.

  Jake thinking she looked like she was poured into her clothes, not a pound off her high school weight, her teeth snowy white as a toothpaste ad. She smelled of shampoo and soap and the daydreams of an adolescent boy remembering quiet corners in school hallways and dark country roads with the radio playing.

  “Heard you’ve made quite the splash?” Pam said.

  “None of it was in the plan.”

  “So, what are you doing down in Texas?” Pam asked.

  “Working.”

  She gave him an appraising once-over. “You’re still good looking. Leo, I tried my best to corner this one, but he slipped away.”

  “Didn’t think you were trying all that hard.”

  Pam pursed her lips and winked at Jake.

  Leo and Pam talked about the weather, the way the town had changed, Jake not saying much, making them change the subject about the bank hold-up. As the food disappeared and the server poured coffee for the trio, the conversation shifted to the present.

  “Jake,” Pam said. “You haven’t contributed much to the conversation.”

  “I’m not much at small talk.”

  “So, do you have anyone?”

  He made a face. “What do you mean?”

  “Are you seeing anyone?”

  “Hard to say.”

  She laughed. “It’s a yes or no question, Jake. How hard can it be?”

  “So, what are you doing these days?”

  “I got a business degree and came back home.”

  Leo said, “She’s president of the Green Summit Bank. The one you didn’t shoot up. Plus, check me if I’m wrong, Pam, but don’t you run most of the Mitchell Dynasty?” Jake seeing Leo was probing. Leo being Leo. Generally, the smartest man in the room, but didn’t let on.

  She gave Leo an appraising look and said, “It’s a business. Mitchell Enterprises.”

  “Knew she’d go far,” Jake said.

  “And yourself?” she asked Jake.

  “I work for the state.”

  “What state?”

  “Texas.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Whatever they tell me to do,” Jake said, not ready to say anything about his job because it was a conversation stopper that made people look at him a different way and they asked the standard questions or told how some cop had screwed them.

  “He’s in law enforcement,” Leo said.

  “Really?” she said. “Why so mysterious?”

  “Not my intention.” Looking at her and peeling away the years he could see her again in her cheerleading outfit, fresh and young, but the present model was even more striking and possessed more presence; maturity filling in the spaces youth leaves open.

  Pam looked at Leo and said, “When did he become like this?” Then back to Jake. “You’re quite the conversationalist. Why’s that?”

  “Naturally chatty, I guess.”

  She exhaled and smiled. “I’m deciding if you’ve become more interesting,” she said, “or less.”

  “More settled.”

  “What brings you back to our little town?” she asked.

  Jake thumbed his coffee cup and looked at it idly. “Gage died, so I came back to decide what to do with Alfred’s place. Missed Gage’s funeral because my lowlife friends failed to call me.” Saying the last part as he looked at Leo.

  “I tried,” Leo said. “You disappeared and didn’t bother to keep in touch.”

  “True.”

  “As an apology,” Leo said. “Pay for my lunch.”

  “Alfred?” Pam said. “You call your father Alfred?”

  He looked at her. “That’s his name.”

  Pam looked down at her food as if something was out of place. She looked up and said, “I’m sorry about Gage. I liked him.”

  “Apparently your husband didn’t.”

  Pam gave him a look. “What does that mean?”

  “Didn’t like each other. Junior fired him.”

  “Alex,” she said. “He goes by Alex now.”

  He nodded. “I’ll write it down.”

  She chewed her lower lip, narrowed her eyes. “Is there a reason you’re taking this posture?”

  “No special reason,” Jake said.

  “There seems to be an edge to what you’re saying.”

  He looked at her. “Don’t read anything into it,” he said but she was probably right. He wanted to know about Gage. Until then, his cop instincts warned against trusting people directly or indirectly involved. ‘Heightened awareness’ is what his ranger trainers called it.

  “Football team looks like we’re going to qualify for districts,” Leo said, changing the subject.
“First time in ten years.”

  “How long are you staying in town, Jake?” asked Pam.

  “Don’t know. On vacation.” Hating the lie. “Deciding whether to sell the place now, rent out the property or keep it.”

  She brightened. “You want to sell the place?”

  “Maybe. I talked to Gage last week right before his accident. Told me things were going well and that he had a surprise for me.”

  “A surprise?”

  “Gage enjoyed stringing people along. Even his friends. Could’ve been anything.”

  “I mean, we may be interested in buying your place,” Pam said.

  “’We’, meaning the Mitchells?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” asked Jake, looking down to cut his steak, noting this was the second time a Mitchell mentioned buying the place. “Gage said there is a section in dispute. Seems the Mitchell clan has plenty of land without edging in on Alfred.”

  “It’s a beautiful place. Nice view to the south. Vernon offered to buy it from your father before he died.”

  “So, he offered to buy and now we have a dispute?” Jake stopped cutting, put his knife and fork down and said, “Vernon already offered to settle with me.”

  “You’ll get a fair price.”

  “The price is not an issue.” Making a mental note to follow up. Wondering why Alfred hadn’t mentioned it. But realizing Jake hadn’t given him a chance and Gage had been circumspect. “Seems Vernon has enough land. Why was Gage fired?”

  Pam patted her hair and her eyes moved to the left. “I was not involved in that decision.”

  “The Pam I remember knew things.”

  Pam looked at her watch as if an alarm went off. “I’m late for an appointment. Great to see you both. Hope to see you again, Jake.”

  “That would be nice.”

  “Maybe next time without the attitude,” she said, her face tight.

  She left, her perfume wafting by lightly and filling Jake’s head.

  “Whew,” Leo said and whistled. He leaned back, both hands on the table, smiling at Jake.

  “What?”

  “You have such a way with women.” He waved his hand as if conjuring up a vision. “There’s something in the air.” Leo stroked his beard before he spoke, enjoying himself now. “However, due my amazing powers of observation honed by not being you, well, let’s see. You’ve been away for a while; the Mitchells have become bucks up with alacrity. Some things have changed, markedly, and some things haven’t changed a bit.”

  “‘Alacrity’?”

  “I’m sorry; I forgot you were ignorant. Read a book once in a while. Then there’s Pam Kellogg.”

  Jake held a hand up and waved Leo off and shook his head.

  Leo saying now, “Oh yes. Pam Kellogg. You are so screwed, Jake. Can’t see it, can you? You’re fun to watch. She still has it and knows what to do with it. Thing is, she is more aware of it than you and will act on it. Bet on it.”

  “How about a break from the blinding insight?”

  “You never understood the way that girl worked it, did you? Actually she’s an interesting study. As are you. No doubt about it.”

  “Does this conversation have anything resembling a point?”

  “You’re in her gun sights, again. I’m looking right at it happening with a sense of nostalgic wonder and amazement.” He formed a rainbow in the air with his hands. “As if time stood still. And you won’t acknowledge it or worse,” Leo hesitated, took a breath and said, “It’s the way you want it.”

  “Your hair fall out, or did it fall in and clog your brain?”

  “Never doubt The Lion. Pam Kellogg gets what Pam Kellogg wants.”

  “Mitchell,” Jake said, correcting him. “Her name’s Pam Mitchell.”

  “A name on a piece of paper, sitting in a file in the county clerk’s office.” Leo held up his coffee cup and saluted the air. “She is, and always will be, Pam Kellogg, the one true princess of Paradise County.”

  Chapter Five

  Alex Mitchell thinking his wife does whatever she wants. Like having lunch with her high school sweetheart, Jake Morgan. What do you do with that? Fat Boy Haller told Alex they’d had a run in with Morgan.

  “He took you guys like stealing your lunch money,” Alex said to him.

  “He jumped us from behind.”

  Alex made a scoffing sound. “That’s how you want me to see it, right? You didn’t learn about him back in high school, so you thought you’d give it another try? At least you didn’t puke this time.”

  Alex wasn’t happy about Morgan’s visit with his wife. In public view of the whole town. Everyone knew she and Morgan had been an item.

  So, Alex confronted her about it. Pam was unsaddling her mare when he hit her with it, asking why she’d eat lunch with Jake and Leo the Lion.

  Pam said, “Grow up, Alex. He’s just someone I used to date.”

  “Banging him under the bleachers makes him more than someone you used to know.”

  “That’s not how I’d characterize it.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Using a baby voice now she said, “Is little Alex jealous?”

  “It’s different with him,” he said. “You know it is. Where do you think I’ve lived all my life?”

  “You mean Leo the Lion?” Smiling to herself when she said it but letting him see it. She unhitched the saddle, placed it on the sawhorse, removed the horse blanket and bridle and began currying the horse’s hide.

  “So, you’ve decided to be funny.”

  “It was lunch with old friends,” Pam said, brushing the horse’s back, a familiar exercise from years of dealing with horses. The mare stood and settled into the rhythm of the welcome brushing. “We didn’t have sex or anything. That would’ve attracted a crowd and embarrassed Leo.” She laughed.

  He said, “Leo the Lion having sex with anyone isn’t funny.”

  She stopped working the brush, picked up a curry comb and looked at Alex. “You’re kind of cute when you’re jealous.”

  “I’m not jealous. Just aggravated.”

  “Oh, you are sooo jealous,” drawing out the words.

  “You know what I’m saying but you want to avoid talking about it.”

  She resumed brushing again. A little harder. Longer strokes. “You don’t tell me what I can do or not do, or who I talk to. Better if you remember that.”

  “I’m your husband; thought that might count for something.”

  “Sure,” she said. “Who could forget that?”

  “What if the situation were reversed?”

  “Like it hasn’t been. You think I’m unaware of your little trysts.” She gestured at a bottle with the curry comb. “Hand me that liniment, would you? I think she’s sore in her front left.”

  Alex thinking, this is what she did. No matter what he said or did or what they were talking about, she gave the impression he had no effect on her thoughts or actions or she turned it around on him. As if he were a hired hand and not the man she married. Played him off and good at it.

  “Don’t feel like it,” he said and left the barn. “Get it yourself.”

  “He rebels,” she said, then laughed derisively.

  He could hear her singing to herself as he left.

  What could you do about it? That’s the bitch of being in love and he loved her. More than he wanted to love her most of the time. All of the time, actually.

  Pam poured oats for her mare. Alex triggered by Jake Morgan’s return to town. She smiled at that. Wasn’t a bad thing. Keep the boy hungry for her.

  Jake Morgan back home. After school, she’d gone off to college, joined a sorority and dated frat boys. Parties and football games on Saturday afternoons. But she studied and earned a business degree.

  Jake knew about the frat boys, never mentioning it. He always knew things he didn’t talk about. She could feel it the way you could smell the rain before it started. Jake went to Texas and just danced away from her.

&n
bsp; And yet, he stayed in her head and her dreams sometimes back then.

  Even now.

  Leaving the diner, Jake stopped at a market to pick up some things for the house; groceries and other items he might need. That done he stopped at a gun shop and bought a pack of .357 ammunition for his service weapon and #8 bird shot to do some dove hunting. May as well take advantage of the season. Also, a pack of cigarettes. He could resist them. Yes, he could, but just in case.

  Later in the afternoon, clouds moved in to cover the sun and Jake decided to return to the scene of the crime. He headed back to Hank’s, to perhaps smoke a cigarette he shouldn’t smoke, have the beer he’d didn’t finish. Needed to get his mind off the shooting and the land dispute. Something, many things, were running through his head, not the least of them, Pam Kellogg Mitchell.

  Jake looked at the selections on the jukebox at Hank’s. All of it dated from his dad’s era. Jake was waiting for Leo the Lion to show after football practice. There was no one in the place except Jake and Hank as the evening crowd hadn’t shown yet.

  “Hey, Hank,” Jake said. “You have anything on here from this century?”

  “There ain’t any other music,” Hank said. “You want a beer or just bitch about my music?”

  “All of it appeals to me,” Jake said. He faced Hank, opening his arms. “Here’s how capitalism works. You supply what the customer wants, the customer buys and commerce occurs.”

  “Well, here’s how things work here. I put on the jukebox what I want to hear.

  You gonna order or just want to hang around like a welfare bum?”

  Jake had a beer and waited. The Happy Hour crowd shuffled in. Mostly locals. Everyone else went out to the highway franchises, Leo said. Guys he knew from high school greeted him, asking him what he was doing back in town offering to buy him a beer. Cigarette smoke swirling above the conversation and the clink of glasses mixed with laughter.

  Leo the Lion showed wearing a hooded sweatshirt reading “Paradise Football”.

  Hank brought Leo a beer. It was a ritual. Leo would come in and Hank would bring him a beer instead of one of the servers.