Here and Gone

by Haylen Beck

  Smaller roads, she had decided. She didn’t know what would happen when Children’s Services realized she had gone and taken the kids with her, but it was possible they would alert the police and they would be looking for her and the station wagon. So it had been narrow twisting paths to here, countless small towns along the way. And no trouble with the police. Until now.

  ‘Here we go,’ Whiteside said, pulling Audra from her thoughts.

  Up ahead, a tow truck exited the Silver Water Road and steered toward them. It slowed a few yards away, and the driver set about turning it until its bed faced Audra’s car, a warning beep as it reversed. The driver, a scrawny man in stained blue overalls, jumped down from the cab. Whiteside climbed out of the cruiser and met him at the rear of the truck.

  Audra watched as the two men spoke, the driver holding out a docket book for Whiteside to sign, before tearing off the top copy and handing it over. Then the driver took a good long look back at her, and she felt like an ape in a zoo exhibit, an irrational anger at his intrusion making her want to spit at him.

  As the driver went about his work, attaching a winch line to the front of her car, Whiteside came back to the cruiser. He didn’t speak as he lowered himself inside and put the car in drive. He waved to the tow-truck driver as he passed. The driver took the opportunity to have another look at Audra, and his attention made her turn her face away.

  Whiteside took the turn onto the Silver Water exit fast, and Audra had to plant her feet wide apart on the floor to keep from tipping over. The road twisted as it climbed through the hills and soon her thighs ached with the effort of staying upright. The shallow incline seemed to rise for an age, slopes of brown either side spotted by the green of the prickly pears and the coarse bushes.

  The sheriff remained silent as he drove, occasionally glancing back at her in the mirror, his eyes hidden by the shades once more. Every time he looked she opened her mouth to speak, to ask again for her children, but each time he looked away before she found her voice.

  They’ll be all right, she told herself over and over. The deputy has them. Whatever happens to me, they’ll be fine. This is all a terrible mistake, and once it’s settled, we’ll be on the road again.

  Unless, of course, they discovered she had run from Children’s Services. Then surely they would send her and the kids back to New York to face the consequences. If that was the worst of all things, then okay. At least Sean and Louise would be safe until Mel could come get them.

  Oh God, Mel. Audra had called her from the road, said they were on their way, and Mel had answered with silence. And Audra knew that the offer to have her as a guest in San Diego had been made in kindness, but without expectation of it being accepted. So be it. If Mel didn’t want them, Audra had enough money left to pay for a week in a cheap hotel. She would figure something out.

  One last sweeping bend as the car crested the rise, and a deep basin came into view, a flat bed of land like the bottom of a pan. At its center, a sprawl of buildings. Orange and red scarred the foothills on the far side, unnatural shapes dug out of the landscape below the mountains. Whiteside steered the car down the series of switchbacks, and Audra leaned against the door to keep from being thrown onto her side. Through the window, she saw the first dwellings, prefab shacks and double-wides, among the twisted scrawny trees below. Chain-link fences around the properties. Some had satellite dishes on the roofs. Pickup trucks parked next to a few, others with tires propped against the walls, car parts piled up in the yards.

  The sun-bleached asphalt turned to compacted dirt as the road straightened, and the car juddered and rattled. Now they passed the houses Audra had seen from the hillside, and the disrepair became clearer. Some of the owners had done their best to cheer the buildings with bright paint and wind chimes, particularly those with For Sale signs staked in the yards, but she could sense the desperation through the glass.

  She knew poor when she saw it because she was only a generation removed herself. Her mother’s parents hadn’t lived in the desert glare, rather the gray skies of rural Pennsylvania, but their dying steel town had the same ragged edges. On the occasions they travelled there from New York, she had played on a rusted swing set in the garden as her mother visited with them, her grandfather years out of work, their last days looming bleak before them.

  Audra wondered why this place got the name Silver Water. Must be a river or a lake nearby, she thought. Communities in a desert must have gathered around a source of water. And what kept them here? Who would choose to make their lives in such a hard place where the sun could strip the skin from your back?

  The houses on either side of the road grew more concentrated, but still hardly enough to make a street. Among the prefabs, a few more permanent dwellings made of wood, the paint blistering and peeling on the walls. An elderly man in shorts and a vest paused from checking his mailbox to raise a forefinger in greeting to the sheriff. Whiteside returned the gesture, his forefinger lifted for a moment from the steering wheel. The old man eyed Audra as they passed, his eyes narrowing.

  An auto repair shop, long since closed down, its signage faded. More houses, aligned along the roadside now, some tidier than others. The road smoothed and widened, and a sidewalk joined its path toward the town. A church, so brilliant white it hurt Audra’s eyes to look at it. She averted her gaze, out through the front windshield, and saw single-and two-story buildings stretch ahead for perhaps half a mile, and she realized the main street lay on the other side of the wooden bridge they approached.

  She looked over the railing as they crossed, expecting to see a flowing river. Instead she saw a dry bed, no more than a muddy stream creeping along the middle. The water, silver or not, from which this town had taken its name had withered away to almost nothing. Dying, like the town itself. Through the clamor in her mind, she felt a small sadness for this place and its people.

  Dark windows along the main street where stores had once done business. To Let and For Sale signs cracked and faded above many. A general store, a Goodwill place, and a diner were all that still traded. A few side streets crawled away, and from the brief glimpses she caught, they were every bit as desolate. Eventually, at the far end, Whiteside pulled into a lot beside a low cinder block building with the words ELDER COUNTY SHERIFF’S OFFICE in dark letters on a white board. The lot had room for maybe a dozen vehicles, but Whiteside’s was the only one here.

  Where was Deputy Collins’ car?

  Whiteside shut off the engine, sat still and quiet for a moment, his hands on the wheel. Then he told Audra to wait, and he climbed out. He went to a shallow concrete ramp, enclosed by a railing, that led to a metal door in the side of the building, found a key from the chain on his belt, and opened it, before returning to the car. His fingers gripped Audra’s arm tight as he helped her out and guided her toward the building, a few seconds of blasting heat before the relative cool of the office.

  It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the dimness in here, the weak fluorescent lights flickering above her head. A small open-plan office, four desks, one with a computer terminal that looked at least a decade old. The other desks appeared to have not been used in years. The desks were separated from the front of the space by a wooden rail with a gate that was bolted shut. A stale smell of disuse hung about the place, a dampness to the air despite the heat outside.

  Whiteside kicked a chair out from the desk and backed Audra up to it until she had no choice but to sit down. He took a seat and switched on the computer. It clicked and whirred as it booted up, sounding like an engine that didn’t like cold mornings.

  ‘Where did the deputy take my children?’ Audra asked.

  Whiteside hit a few keys to log on. ‘We’ll discuss that in a while.’

  ‘Sir, I don’t want to be difficult, I really don’t, but I need to know my children are safe.’

  ‘Like I said, ma’am, we’ll discuss that in a while. Now let’s get this done. The sooner we get this all straightened out, the sooner I can let
you go. Now, full name.’

  Audra cooperated through the process of details – her name, date of birth, place of residence – and even when he undid the handcuffs, so he could press her fingertips into an inkpad.

  ‘We do things old-fashioned around here,’ he said, his tone warming. ‘None of that digital nonsense. We don’t have the funds to upgrade. Used to be I had a half dozen deputies and an under-sheriff to assist with this kind of thing. Them, and a police department, such as it was. Now there’s just me and Collins left to keep this town in order, and Sally Grames, who does admin three mornings a week. Not that we see much trouble. You might be the first person to come through here in a year that wasn’t a drunk and disorderly.’

  Whiteside held out a dispenser full of moist wipes, and Audra plucked one from the top, then another, and set about cleaning the black from her fingers.

  ‘Now, listen,’ he said. ‘This needn’t be a whole big deal. I guess if I don’t put the cuffs back on, you’ll be civil. Am I right?’

  Audra nodded.

  ‘Good. Now, I got some checks to do, make sure there’s no warrants hanging over you, but I doubt there will be. Like I said, the amount of marijuana you had—’

  ‘It’s not mine,’ Audra said.

  ‘So you say, but the amount I found in your car might, to some people, seem like more than for personal use. But if you’re civil with me, I guess I can be flexible about that. Maybe call it possession, and forget about intent to supply. So, all things being equal, I expect Judge Miller will give you a small fine and a few stern words. Now, Judge Miller usually holds court on a Wednesday morning over in the town hall, but I’m going to give her a call, see if she’ll come over and hold a special session in the morning for an arraignment. That way, you’ll only have to spend the one night here.’

  Audra went to protest, but he held up a hand to silence her.

  ‘Let me finish, now. I’m going to have to put you in a cell overnight, no matter what. But if you’re cooperative with me, as soon as I got you settled in, I’ll make that call to Judge Miller. But if you’re not, if you give me trouble, I’ll be happy to let you wait a day or two longer. So you think you can be good? Not cause a fuss?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Audra said.

  ‘All right, then,’ he said, standing. He walked to a door in the rear of the office marked CUSTODY, sorting through the keys on his chain, then stopped and turned. ‘You coming?’

  Audra got to her feet and followed him. He unlocked the door, reached inside to switch on another row of fluorescent lights. Holding the door, he stepped aside to let her pass. Inside stood a small desk, its veneer surface chipped and stained, a coffee mug with an assortment of pens on top of it. Beyond, a row of three cells, barred squares with concrete floors, two thin cots in each, and toilets and washbasins screened by low brick walls.

  She stopped, the fear that had been bubbling in her beginning to rise up. Her shoulders rose and fell with her quickening breaths, a dizzy wave washing over her.

  Whiteside stepped around her, went to the farthest cell to the left, and unlocked the door. Metal-on-metal squealed as he slid it across. He turned to look at her, an expression of concern on his jowly face.

  ‘Honestly,’ he said, ‘it’s not that bad. It’s cool, the bunks aren’t too uncomfortable, you’ll have privacy when you need it. One night, that’s all. I just need you to take off your shoes and your belt, put them on the desk there.’

  Audra stared into the empty air inside the cell as tremors worked through her body and limbs, her feet glued to the concrete floor.

  He reached a hand out to her. ‘Come on, now, quicker you get in there and get settled, the quicker we can get all this straightened out.’

  She unbuckled her belt, slipped it from her jeans, kicked off her sneakers, then placed them all on the desk. Her sock soles whispered on the vinyl tiles as she walked to the cell and through the door. She heard that squeal again, and turned in time to see the door slide closed. Whiteside turned a key in the lock.

  Audra approached the bars, put her hands on them. She looked Whiteside in the eye, inches away, on the other side.

  ‘Please,’ she said, unable to keep the quiver from her voice. ‘I’ve done everything you said. I’ve been cooperative. Please tell me where my children are.’

  Whiteside held her gaze.

  ‘What children?’ he asked.

  6

  SEAN WATCHED DUST plumes through the window as Deputy Collins pulled off the road onto an unmarked dirt track. Without thinking, he reached over and took Louise’s hand in his, her fingers warm and sweaty. His stomach roiled inside him as the car swayed from side to side, the track winding up through the hills.

  It felt like they’d been driving for ages. Sean figured the town they’d been driving to with Mom had been only one or two miles from where they’d stopped, going by the road signs, but they’d driven far more than that now. He was sure of it.

  The gnawing worry had not left him since they’d set off, even if he’d managed to stop crying like a baby. A safe place, the deputy had said when he asked where they were going. He asked so many times she told him to shut up, goddamn it, just be quiet back there. Louise hadn’t said a word, simply held tight to Gogo and looked out the window, like they were going on a day trip.

  The dirt track had faded and narrowed until Sean wasn’t sure if it was a track at all. The car shook and rattled and jerked, bouncing him and his sister on the seat. Eventually the ground leveled off and they approached a small ruin of a shack, its roof caved in, the remains of its walls blackened and charred by a long-ago fire. Beside it, what Sean guessed to be a carport of some kind, a simple wooden frame with a corrugated-iron roof. A van stood in the shade beneath it.

  Deputy Collins pulled the cruiser in beside the van, and the interior became suddenly dark. She opened her door, climbed out, and came to Louise’s door. A wash of heat as she opened it and leaned down.

  ‘Come on,’ she said, reaching in to undo Louise’s seat belt.

  Before Sean could stop her, Louise pulled her hand away from his and let Collins lift her out. Collins leaned down once more.

  ‘You too,’ she said.

  ‘I don’t want to,’ Sean said.

  Collins adjusted her grip on Louise’s hand. ‘I’ve got your sister,’ she said.

  Sean felt the sweat on his back turn cold. He reached for the seat-belt release, let the belt retract. He hesitated, then slid across the seat and out of the car.

  ‘Here,’ Collins said as she put Louise’s hand in Sean’s. ‘Stay right there.’

  She shut the cruiser’s door, then walked to the back of the van, fishing in her pants pocket for a key. The van looked in almost as poor condition as the shack, its beige paintwork dappled with rust. Its rear doors creaked as Collins opened them. She stepped back, showed them the dark throat of it.

  ‘Get in,’ she said.

  Louise stepped forward, but Sean pulled her back.

  ‘No,’ he said.

  Collins pointed into the dark. ‘Come on, now.’

  Sean shook his head. ‘No.’

  ‘Don’t be difficult,’ she said, her face hardening.

  ‘We’re not getting in,’ Sean said.

  Collins took a step toward them, then hunkered down, her knees to her chest, balancing on the balls of her feet. She spoke to Louise. ‘Honey, your brother is being silly. Now, you need to get inside out of this heat. If you don’t, your mom’s going to be in even bigger trouble than she is now. She might have to go to a jail for a long time.’

  ‘That’s a lie,’ Sean said.

  ‘Louise, sweetheart, you don’t want your mommy to be in worse trouble, do you? You don’t want her to go to jail, right?’

  Louise shook her head.

  ‘Well, then, let’s—’

  As Collins reached out for his sister, her balance shifted, and Sean chose that moment to throw his hand out at her, pushing her shoulder. Not hard, but enough. Collins’ eyes widened i
n surprise, and her arms spun in the air as she tried to stop what would surely happen next.

  Sean didn’t wait to see her topple onto her back. Instead he turned and ran, dragging Louise behind him. She squealed and stumbled, almost went down, but his momentum kept her moving. He followed the tire tracks, thinking, get to the road, flag down a car. Whatever happens, run, run as fast as you can.

  ‘Gogo!’

  He spared a glance over his shoulder, saw the remains of the pink rabbit bounce in the dirt. Beyond him, Collins getting to her feet, fury on her face.

  ‘We’ll come back for him,’ he said, jerking Louise’s hand. ‘We’ll come back, I promise.’

  He kept going, churning his legs harder, his sister flailing after him. Somewhere behind he heard Collins yell at them to stop, goddamn it, stop right there. Dirt and grit slipped under his shoes as he took the slope, leaping down the steeper parts, his back jarring each time he landed, Louise somehow staying with him, staying upright.

  ‘Stop!’ Collins’ voice echoed between the steep slopes all around. ‘For Christ’s sake, stop!’

  Sean ignored her, his mind focused on the road somewhere down there through the hills at the end of this track. Just keep running, that’s all.

  Ahead, a turn in the track, maybe a place to take shelter. Sean put his head down, kicked the ground hard, felt his shoulder wrenched as Louise’s feet left the dirt.

  Then the crack of the gun, the pressure in his ears. By instinct rather than thought, he threw himself down, taking Louise with him. Louise cried out, rolling away from him. He looked back, saw Collins at the top of the slope, her pistol pointed skyward, a wisp of smoke taken away by the breeze. Collins lowered the pistol, gripped it with both hands, aimed it at them. She breathed hard, her boots crunching on the ground as she bounded down the slope toward them.