by Matt Hilton
‘How does the commune sustain its lifestyle?’ she asked.
‘It was originally based upon the idea of income sharing. The members pooled their money in a collective pot, and it was apportioned out as and when it was needed. Ha! Well, that was the original idea. The Moorcock family never goes without, whereas the rest of us, we live off the scraps that Eldon throws to us.’
‘A place ran like that sounds unsustainable. Surely its inhabitants are unhappy with the arrangement, and I doubt they’d attract new members willing to hand over their savings.’
‘Fear is a strong motivator. It ensures obedience, cooperation and silence. New members are few and far between, but Eldon doesn’t rely on fresh donors these days, he has built other “avenues of revenue”.’
‘In what way?’
Elspeth shook her head. ‘I said earlier there’s only so much I can tell you. I’ve already endangered us by running away with Jacob, and can expect to be punished if we’re caught, but if Eldon suspects I’ve given away any of his secrets, it risks our lives.’
‘These avenues are obviously criminal?’
Tess’s question was rhetorical and didn’t require an answer. Elspeth waved it off though. ‘I can’t say.’
‘You’re still allowing your fear of him to control you,’ Tess warned.
‘If you were in my shoes?’
‘You’re right, and I won’t push you for more. You’ve barely met me, and I have no right expecting you to fully trust me yet. But I hope once you think about it you’ll tell me everything. I want to help you and Jacob, Elspeth. I also want to help the others being held under Eldon’s control. Don’t you think they also deserve help?’
‘Right now I’m only interested in protecting my son.’ Elspeth abruptly spun around, realizing that she had not kept her eye glued on her boy, perhaps for the first time since they’d fled the commune. ‘Jacob? Jacob!’
‘It’s OK, Elspeth,’ said Tess, ‘he’s through in the family room with Po and Pinky. He’s perfectly safe with them.’
Elspeth shivered with indecision: it was easy to tell she had formed a poor opinion of men, but considering what she’d gone through for years it was unsurprising.
‘They’re both the best of men,’ Tess reassured her. ‘Totally the opposite of the monsters you’ve been controlled by.’
‘Is Pinky …?’
Tess guessed where the unfinished question was heading. ‘Is Pinky gay?’
Elspeth made a face.
Pinky probably was gay, by anyone’s definition but his. He was more asexual – or he wasn’t defined by a single sexuality – and as far as Tess was aware was not sexually active. Once she’d believed he suffered a hang up over his medical condition that often caused a painful bloating of his lower limbs, and for that reason refrained from romantic dalliances. However, as she’d grown to know him better, she had come to understand that love of the heart and mind trumped the physical act for Pinky. One thing that he was not was any danger to little boys and Tess was about to defend him. There was no need.
‘I was about to ask if he’s a little strange,’ Elspeth corrected her. ‘He has a very odd way with words. He’s very eccentric, he’s … flamboyant.’
‘He is indeed. He has an odd way of expressing himself, but no, he isn’t odd or strange in any other way. He’s a lovely person, the best friend you could ask for, and like I said the best of men.’
‘By his very existence, Caleb and his family would hate him. He embodies everything they despise in men.’
‘The more I hear about your in-laws the more I think they need to be muzzled like slathering beasts.’
‘I wish I’d known the truth ten years ago. Things would have been so different, so much better.’
Tess nibbled her bottom lip. It was best that she didn’t answer directly, because if Elspeth hadn’t followed Caleb back to New York, then who knew how Elspeth’s relationship with Po might have progressed. She loved Po and couldn’t countenance her life without him in it now. ‘We can all be wise in hindsight,’ she finally said.
‘Speaking of which, I need to make arrangements to move on.’
‘You and Jacob are welcome to stay here a few days, until you can—’
‘Thanks, Tess, but no. We’ll stay the night, but in the morning we’re moving on. Now we know that Caleb has found us here we can’t stay. I might ask that you take us back to our hotel in the morning, to collect our things, and then maybe wait until we get on a bus.’
‘Then what? You just keep on running? You disappear?’
‘That’s the plan.’
Tess again fell silent. More than ever it was imperative that Po talked with Elspeth before she was allowed to vanish with Jacob. But then what? What if it transpired that he was Jacob’s biological father? One thing that Tess was positive about: if Jacob was his child, and he discovered how Caleb had abused him, then woe betide the consequences.
TEN
Stalking alert prey is difficult, and Caleb was under no illusion: Po’boy was more alert to his surroundings than most. Following the convoy of two vehicles back to this neighborhood north of Portland hadn’t been the issue. He’d managed to stay back far enough to avoid being picked out from other road users as the muscle car led the way to this secluded spot. Caleb was unfamiliar with this part of town, but once they’d gotten into a series of winding suburban streets he’d had the sense to fall back. There could only be a few destinations where Po’boy was heading to, because Caleb had taken note of signage stating that the streets ahead were ‘no thru roads’. He guessed there was some feature of the landscape that constrained the neighborhood, and was unsurprised when they’d come upon a river. Caleb had prowled the streets after that until he followed a twisting route and discovered the Mustang and GMC parked in the yard of a ranch-style property abutting the woods adjacent to the riverbank. Caleb had driven away to a safer spot and left his pickup, returning on foot to observe from the ranch’s perimeter. Trees and underbrush gave him plenty of hiding places.
There were neighboring houses, but none close enough that he risked discovery. He secreted himself in a drainage ditch, currently dried out, and watched the ranch through a screen of grass and bushes left to grow wild at the edge of the property. There was not much to see. Several rooms were lighted, but the drapes were drawn at most of the windows. He occasionally spotted a shadow cast upon the drapes as somebody moved about inside the house. A light burned on the porch above the front door too, but the door was shut for the most part. However, Po’boy had come outside twice while Caleb hid in the ditch, each time sparking up a cigarette and standing out in the yard. This was where Caleb gained the impression that the Cajun was more in tune with his surroundings than most other people. Po’boy smoked, but did so at a slow prowl around his front yard. He moved languidly, but with his ears cocked to the slightest sound and his eyes were on swivels.
The first time he’d come outside to smoke, Caleb had shifted. He barely heard the brush of his clothing against the grass, but Po’boy’s head snapped around. How had he heard the slight sounds he’d made when the burble of the nearby river filled the night with white noise? Caleb couldn’t be seen in the dark, but he lowered down nevertheless, peering out between the grasses as Po’boy stared back at him. He watched the tall man take a couple of steps forward, and Caleb drew his firearm. Shooting Po’boy wasn’t in his initial plan, but if it came to him being discovered he would pull the trigger. After that he would be forced to storm the house and take his chances with the black dude and the blonde woman, and drag his wife and boy away at gunpoint. It was a crazy, rash response to consider, but that was Caleb Moorcock’s nature.
As it were Mother Nature conspired to assist Caleb. A bird roosting in the trees a few yards away made an abrupt squawk, and then it clattered through the branches as it took flight. It only made a short-lived swoop before it found a perch on the next tree. It squawked again. Po’boy rather than Caleb had disturbed its roost. The Cajun relaxed, the
sudden tightness going out of his frame, and he dropped his cigarette and ground it underfoot. He returned to the house.
The immediate danger of discovery over, Caleb holstered his pistol. He was jittery, feeling the effects of a spike of adrenalin as he realized how close he’d come to spoiling everything. If he murdered Po’boy here, stormed the house and killed its occupants before taking Elspeth and Jacob hostage, he would have called down the entire law enforcement community on his head, and there would be no way of breaching the police cordons between here and New York state. Instead of allowing his tripwire nature to control him, he must think things through and act only when the abduction could be successful. He checked his wristwatch: it was still hours until Darrell and the other reinforcements were due to arrive. His only other asset for now was Jeremy Decker, and he had proven next to useless. If Caleb summoned him here, and made him stake out the house, he’d probably give the game away next time its owner came out to smoke. As much as he found squatting in the ditch undesirable and uncomfortable, Caleb still deemed himself the best man for the job.
Because Po’boy’s attention had already been focused on this spot, it was time to move. He scooted away, came up to a crouch and then stalked along the fence line to a spot nearer the yard’s entrance. From the fresh vantage his view was slightly limited, but it gave him better access to retreat should Po’boy decide to investigate a suspicious sound next time. Besides, everyone was inside, and if and when his targets left, it would probably be in either one of the vehicles parked out front. Before they were done boarding, Caleb could slip away, get in his pickup and be waiting for when they passed him. It was still not too late for her rescuers to return Elspeth and Jacob back to their hotel, but Caleb doubted it would happen: they’d probably be given shelter in the ranch for the night. He wondered what entreaties Elspeth had made of her hosts, and worse, what secrets she had spilled in the meantime. Once he had them back in his hands, he’d learn the entire truth, and it might be that storming Po’boy’s house would be in the cards, because the Moorcocks assiduously protected their secrets. As and when Caleb chose to return, it would be gang-handed and unexpected. They’d be in and out again with little fuss or noise, and be back in the commune long before Po’boy’s corpse, and those of his girl and nigger pal, was discovered.
Caleb entertained himself with thoughts of slaying his adversaries. It passed the time swiftly, and then the door opened and Po’boy stepped outside again. He sat on the porch swing, thought better of it, and then came down the steps to stand once more in the yard. He gave a slow, measured perusal of his surroundings, then dug in his shirt pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He moved between the parked cars while lighting up and taking a deep draw of smoke into his lungs. In the wash of light from the porch light, the smoke wreathed around his head like a halo. Caleb drew his pistol again, resting his thumb on the hammer: he was still entertaining murderous thoughts.
Po’boy emerged from between the cars, and Caleb wasn’t surprised when the man’s attention went towards his previous hiding place. Po’boy came to a halt, and stood, watching. Finally, his suspicion appeased for now, he allowed his attention to roam. Caleb remained stock-still, even holding his breath while the man’s gaze alighted momentarily on his new hiding place. He was invisible in the darkness, fully concealed by brush, but for an insane moment he worried that Po’boy’s senses were so heightened he could pierce the night and pick him out where he crouched. Po’boy put his cigarette to his lips and inhaled. He blew out a plume of smoke that dissipated on the breeze. His eyes never left Caleb’s position. Caleb adjusted his pistol, aiming at Po’boy’s broad chest.
The front door squeaked open and the big black guy came out on the porch. It broke the moment, and Po’boy turned away to regard his pal. Caleb lowered his gun. He studied the newcomer, watching as the big man danced down the steps and joined his friend in the yard. He was huge, with legs like felled lumber, and yet he moved with the grace of a gazelle; he flicked his hands as he spoke, and defined points with a pursed mouth or roll of his shaven head. Caleb hated him passionately. He reconsidered his decision to put off storming the house, because he sure would enjoy putting down that black sonofabitch.
‘What are you doing out here, you?’ asked the black man as he joined Po’boy.
Po’boy held up his cigarette. ‘She doesn’t say it, but I know Tess doesn’t like me smokin’ indoors.’
‘You’re just looking for an excuse to put things off, you.’
‘No, I’m just takin’ a smoke, Pinky.’
Pinky? What kind of fuckin’ name is that? Caleb shook his head at the ridiculousness of it: big, black motherfucker like that and he goes by Pinky! But then he supposed, the name kind of explained his flapping hands and mellifluous voice. Caleb had hated him on sight; he hated him even more now. This flounce was the man that’d put fear into Jeremy Decker at a glance? Decker needed to man the fuck up!
‘C’mon, Nicolas, you can fool a fool, but I ain’t nobody’s fool, me.’
Nicolas. Caleb had forgotten the Cajun’s given name. But it came back to him now: Nicolas Villere. When first he’d gotten together with Elspeth she’d mentioned dating Villere to him a few times, until jealousy had gotten the better of him and he’d forbade her from mentioning his goddamn name again.
‘I ain’t tryin’ to fool ya, just tryin’ to enjoy a smoke.’ To punctuate his point, Villere – Caleb thought of him only as Villere now – took another long drag on his cigarette, before he aimed the glowing ember at where Caleb had previously taken cover. ‘Also wanted to check a thing or two out.’
‘Like what?’
‘Ever got the feelin’ you were bein’ watched?’
‘Nicolas, I’d be upset if I thought people weren’t payin’ me attention.’
Villere ignored Pinky’s assertion. Instead he gestured again at where Caleb had been hidden. ‘Thought I heard somethin’ from over there, but it was nothin’, just a bird lettin’ itself be heard. But still, I got that creepy feelin’ where the hair stands up on the back of your neck.’
‘Maybe it was a ghost.’ Even at a distance, Caleb saw the flash of Pinky’s sclera as he rolled his eyes. ‘I used to think the bayous back home were spooky; they have nothing on these creepy-assed Maine woods at night.’
‘Maybe I’m lettin’ paranoia get ahold of me. But if Elspeth was right and that guy was followin’ her back at the pier, it pays to stay vigilant.’
‘Elspeth’s a stunning-looking woman, Nicolas, maybe that guy fancied himself as a suitor, him, and was just trying to build up his courage to make his move.’
‘Elspeth told Tess she thought she knew him from back home, she even gave him a name: Decker.’
‘She didn’t get a good look at his face, her, and couldn’t be sure. I put the vibe on him and he scuttled off like a rodent. Don’t think we need worry about him bothering her again.’
‘It still pays to keep an eye out. If that was Decker, Elspeth said his only reason for being here is on her asshole husband’s behalf. He might show up yet.’
‘You think? Way I see it, me, he’s a punk-assed wife-beater with teeny-tiny cajones. I don’t think we need shed any sweat over him, Nicolas.’
‘He doesn’t sweat me,’ Villere said, ‘in fact, I’m out here prayin’ the son of a bitch does show up so’s I can knock his damn ass into the dirt. D’you see those burns on Jacob’s arms? Well, I’m guessin’ that boy didn’t put those there.’
‘Poor kid,’ said Pinky. ‘Even if he was responsible, which I doubt, he’d have to have some reason for hurting himself like that, and my guess is his home life was shit. And from what I’ve seen, he loves his momma, him, so I’m guessing Daddy’s the real bad guy.’
‘That piece of crap doesn’t deserve to be called a daddy.’
Caleb had listened to the discourse with growing rage. In the space of a minute he’d been derided left, right and center, called everything from a coward down to a eunuch and back again. He h
ad been threatened with violence by a backwater redneck and a goddamn nigger faggot! But the thing that got his goat most was Villere’s final summation. He rose up an inch or two, gripping his gun tightly with the intention of blowing both those bastards apart, before sense grabbed him and gave him a mental shake. Now was not the right time, he cautioned. Wait, be patient, your time will come. Then they’ll see what kind of man you really are.
He turned and crawled until he was far enough away. Once he was out of their line of sight he gained his feet, and then backtracked to where he’d left his pickup. Nobody was going anywhere tonight, he’d concluded, but he’d be back in the small hours for his wife and son, and there was going to be a hellacious reckoning with those boys.
ELEVEN
The women had moved into the family room by the time Po and Pinky returned inside. Tess had offered the spare room she used as an office, wherein Elspeth and Jacob could bed down for the night, but Elspeth had politely refused. After he’d eaten the supper Tess had cooked up, Jacob had nodded off. Elspeth had sat beside him on a couch, and pulled him in to rest his head on her lap. She teased his locks through her fingers. He was probably a bit old for mollycoddling like a toddler, but under the circumstances Tess thought that comforting him was the right thing to do. He was also old enough to follow the various adult conversations and understand the desperate situation they were in, so her gentle motherly touch was the perfect medicine.
Tess eyed Po as he stalked the room. He was still to raise the subject of Jacob’s parentage with Elspeth, and with the boy in the room it wasn’t ideal. The kid was confused enough without overhearing what could prove to be a mind-blowing denouement if Po was his father. The subject should be privately discussed between Po and his mother, and the outcome later explained to Jacob if necessary. If Po’s suspicion was wrong, it would be best for the boy that he never knew his heritage had been in contention.
