by John Enright
“She’s all I got left now, and I just let all that stuff slide by. It’s like when she was a little girl and she was always wearing costumes, and I’d pretend she was a pirate or a princess or a stranger or whatever disguise she was into, just go along for the ride.”
Way out on the river a push boat went by with a litter of barges in front of it. “Did you know, Vernon, that the Indian name for this river, which I don’t remember, meant the river that flows both ways?”
“Didn’t know that.”
“So that if you and I built a raft out of some of that driftwood there and pushed off into the current, we wouldn’t necessarily go downriver. We might just go back and forth and end up right back here where we started.”
“You can go right ahead and test that theory. I’m not getting on any raft.” Vernon took another sip of Beam and handed the bottle to Dominick. “I can’t swim.”
Chapter 15
She couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t had an invisible companion. As a small girl it had been her invisible friend Agatha. Then, after Amanda discovered who her mother was, it had become Marjorie and had pretty much continued to be her mother until she died. Since then it was someone unknown, not yet identified; but there still had to be someone there—someone who watched over her, was her constant companion, knew what she knew, saw what she saw. Her secret confidant, her best girlfriend. This wasn’t her voice. That was different and usually showed up only to scold her or question her. Her invisible companion was mute and was always not only by her side but on her side. She was the one Amanda spoke to when she thought “Isn’t this a beautiful day?” or “Where did I put my keys?” She was the one with whom Amanda shared everything.
Amanda’s father’s family was Catholic, and growing up she had been exposed to that. All those saints and male gods and the Blessed Virgin Mary she had found just confusing, as made up as the characters in the comic books she wasn’t supposed to read. The one thing she had latched onto, that they seemed to have right, was her Guardian Angel. Well, the wings and feathers and all were unnecessary and over the top, but that constant silent sidekick was spot on. She was amazed to think that everybody else might have their own.
At her First Communion Amanda had left a space for her Guardian Angel beside her in the pew, and a nun (one of those witches) had come and told her to move over and close the space. Amanda had told her that was where her Guardian Angel (secretly Agatha) was sitting, and the nun told her that in church all the angels went up to the altar. Amanda moved over as ordered (and Agatha sat on her lap; she didn’t want to go up to the altar).
Amanda suspected when she heard someone talk about having God in their life or taking Jesus as their personal savior that they were really just talking about their own insubstantial companion, but one to whom they attributed powers greater than phantom Agatha’s or Marjorie’s simple empathetic presence. People had different needs, but pretending that your invisible friend was a supernatural god seemed a bit extreme, a pretty weird need.
As far as Amanda could tell, the Wiccans didn’t go there. Their gods and goddesses were big and vague, impersonal powers of nature. Wiccans didn’t claim that their supreme beings spoke with them (how crazy was that?) or sent them written messages. Amanda liked that. There didn’t seem to be any pagan prophets proclaiming that this is the word of god, as if they had found some unshredded document in the deity’s office trash or had secretly taped their conversations with the big guy. On the whole it seemed more humble than other religions. Amanda hadn’t had a problem when Morgan arranged for Denise and her tribe to occupy the house. They didn’t proselytize. They didn’t sing hymns. They paid their rent.
But now they were laying claim to some sort of victimhood, as if Amanda was persecuting them for their beliefs when she couldn’t care less what made-up stuff they said they believed. Where was that at? Amanda believed they wouldn’t want to live in a place undergoing an extreme renovation. She and Morgan would be moving out, too, to someplace nearby so they could see the renovations through to completion. They would have to find a place, too. Were they persecuting themselves? Oh well, Morgan was on the case. They had been through more threatening legal thickets.
Amanda settled into Nemo’s chair on the kitchen porch and read her book. It was set in France in the Middle Ages. She vaguely remembered the plot. There was a war going on, and the heroine had been kidnapped and was being held for ransom in a fortresslike nunnery. The hero had to free her even though her father was his sworn enemy. By the time Amanda’s hair was dry her eyelids were heavy, and she went up to her room to take a nap, locking the door behind her.
***
His poor car. It was like it was the real victim in all this. It had gotten stolen, stuck in the mud, dragged out, noxiously cleaned, bled on, accused of being a crime scene, arrested, then strip-searched. Its interior had been dusted with white powder and sprayed with strange liquids. The back seat had been removed and put back improperly. There was the residue of something gooey on the steering wheel and gear shift, and there was another whole set of smells. It was not the same car. It was as if it had been raped. But at least Dominick had it back. No thanks to Morgan.
On Wednesday, not having heard back from Morgan, Dominick returned to the Greene County Sheriff’s Office, expecting a day of delays and unknown difficulties. He would not answer any questions, but he would not go away either. He had Vernon drop him off and told him not to wait. But once he found his Dutch detective everything went surprisingly quickly. He was told that they had no firm evidence that a rape had occurred and that the girl’s story did not “hold up,” whatever that meant, and besides she had disappeared without filing formal charges. She was wanted in Ohio. They were deeply disappointed that they couldn’t charge Dominick or hold his car. All Dominick had to do to get his car back was sign some papers and wait for one of the lab boys to bring it around. The lab boy turned out to be a woman, who called him a scum bag when she handed him the keys.
Dominick found Vernon in his Cadillac parked in his default location, where Dominick had first found him, on Main Street across from the courthouse. Dominick had already stopped at an ATM and taken out the maximum allowed in a day, $400, which he intended to give Vernon for his services over the past several days. If Vernon wasn’t busy, maybe they could have a good-bye lunch. They ate at the same place they had eaten the first time.
Over lunch Dominick complained about the newly trashed interior of his car. He just didn’t feel at home there any more. Vernon knew a man in town who did detail work who would clean it for him, return it smelling like a brand new car. After lunch Dominick followed Vernon to an out-of-luck house on a back street at the edge of town, where Vernon’s friend looked the car over and gave him a price. Dominick left the car there and got a ride from Vernon back to Hudson and the St. George. It meant one more night in Hudson, but Vernon said he would stop by later and they would go out.
It rained all afternoon, a steady, warm rain. There was no going out. Dominick stayed in his room, but his books didn’t interest him. He even turned on the TV at one point, but that was a hopeless distraction. As eager as he was to leave, he could not get Sissy off his mind. Twice he picked up the phone to call her at the newspaper, and twice he put it back down without dialing. He still had her books to return. He could give them to Vernon. He did not necessarily want to say good-bye, but he did want to see her again. He tried to remember the last time he had felt like this. It had been a long time. It was twilight when Vernon returned, an early twilight because of the rain. He said Sissy had invited them out to dinner at her place.
Dominick wanted to bring a bottle of wine, but Vernon pointed out that Sissy didn’t allow alcohol in her house, so they stopped for a quart of ice cream instead. Vernon had no idea what Sissy’s favorite flavor might be. Dominick was surprised by Sissy’s house. It was so … well, normal—a two-floor townhouse in a new duplex on a cul-de-sac of identical duplexes. Vernon rang the doorbell when they got there. Th
ere was no porch and they were standing there in the rain. They could have been in any suburb standing in the rain.
Sissy was dressed in a dashiki again, a different one, black with gold embroidery, when she answered the door. She was barefoot. She gave her father a hug and a kiss on the cheek as he went in. Then she did the same to Dominick. She took his offered white plastic bag with the ice cream inside and gave him another hug and kiss with her thank you. The second time Dominick hugged and kissed her back. She seemed to like that and gave him a very personal smile, one he had not seen before. She kept her arm around his waist as they walked into the living room. “I’m so glad you could come,” she said. Vernon had already settled on a couch in front of a big flat-screen TV and was clicking through channels with the remote control. “Yankee game,” he said. Dominick followed Sissy into the galley-like kitchen, where something smelled Thai spicy.
“You’re not a baseball fan?” Sissy asked as she put the ice cream in the freezer.
“I’m more of a food fan. It was kind of you to invite me. It’s been a while since I’ve had a home-cooked meal.”
“It’s nice to have someone to cook for,” Sissy said. “It will be a bit longer before dinner is ready. Would you like something to drink? Tonic, juice, tea, coconut water?”
“Coconut water sounds fine,” Dominick said. He had never tasted it without rum in it. The kitchen was small, and, being two large people, they pretty much filled it. Sissy poured him a tall glass of coconut water on the rocks. In the living room Vernon had found his baseball game, and the announcers were filling the long empty spaces with their knowing chatter.
Sissy stirred something on the stove and re-covered it. “Daddy said you got your car back. That’s good. I guess that means you’re free to leave.”
“I am overdue where I was headed,” Dominick said. He was leaning up against the one kitchen counter and he had to make himself thinner to let Sissy pass. “Sorry, I’m in your way.”
“Not at all,” she said. “I do not mind brushing past you,” and she gave him an extra bump with her hip as she passed. “This place wasn’t made for the likes of us.”
Their smiles were simultaneous and shared.
“Does the world seem to be getting smaller to you?” Dominick asked.
“No, it’s still wide open for me.”
Whatever was really behind the look Sissy gave Dominick, he saw it as saying, yeah, I’m a lonesome person, too. He held her gaze for a second before taking a sip of his coconut water without rum. His mouth was dry. He wondered if he was blushing.
She gave him a slap on the arm as she passed by, a familial slap. “Go see if Daddy wants something to drink, would you?”
Vernon said he’d take a tonic, hold the vodka. On his way back to the kitchen Dominick noticed that the dining room table was set for four. “We are four tonight?” He asked as Sissy poured a glass of tonic for Vernon and squeezed a lemon wedge into it.
“She should be down any minute,” Sissy said. “Here you go.” She handed Dominick Vernon’s drink. “Dinner should be ready in about ten.”
When Dominick went back into the living room with Vernon’s drink there was a second person sitting on the couch watching the ball game with him. It was Susan. “Hello,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
***
Wednesday, Amanda bought a new car, a Toyota Camry, at a place north of Hudson. They had a champagne-colored one and she took it, wrote a check for it, and left her worthless old Chevy sitting in their parking lot. The Camry still had dealer plates on it as she drove away. She had never owned a new car before. She couldn’t believe how quiet it was. When she picked Morgan up at the Hudson Amtrak station when she came in on the 5:35 from Albany she had to get out of the car and wave to get Morgan’s attention. Morgan was pleased but found fault with the color, or non-color as she called it. “Just like you to pick something totally neutral,” she said.
“It’s an earth color,” Amanda protested.
“It’s anonymous,” Morgan said, as if being anonymous were something despicable. Morgan was in one of her moods, looking for a fight, for something to make her feel better.
“Things didn’t go well in Albany?” Amanda asked. God, how she enjoyed driving this car. It was like it could read the curves all by itself.
“Why do you say that? Everything’s fine. Let’s stop to eat. I don’t want to go back there yet. Have you heard from Nemo?”
“He stopped by yesterday. I don’t know if we’re going to see him again. He had that faraway look in his eyes. Oh, and there was a woman reporter snooping around, too, looking for Denise or Susan.”
“A newspaper reporter?”
“Yeah. I got rid of her. Doesn’t this car ride nice?”
“Yes, they’ve made some advancements in that department in the twenty years you’ve been driving that Chevy. Has Nemo gotten his car back? He can’t leave without his car.”
“He didn’t have it yesterday. Is that air-con too cold?”
“Yes. Turn it off. Then he must still be at the St. George.”
“He was with some black man. Shall we eat at the French place in Catskill?”
“If we can get a table. A black man?”
“It’s still early. Nemo said he left something in your room.”
“Some shirts. A black man? There aren’t many of those around here.”
“I took him to be his driver. How did things go with the lawyers?”
“They’re looking into it. We’ll fight the temporary restraining order, of course. It’s going to cost us something even though it’s all bullshit. Wait. Turn off here.” Morgan pointed to a parking lot beside a store. They were almost at the turn-off to the bridge to Catskill. “Let me see if Nemo’s in. Maybe we could take him out to dinner.” Morgan dialed his hotel room, but there was no answer. Amanda pulled back onto the highway and across the bridge to Catskill. They ate at the French place on Main Street famous for its stuffed shrimp. Morgan got to pick a fight with the waiter about the wine. Then she could relax. Amanda didn’t care. She was just thrilled about her new car.
***
Dinner was strange. Not the food—Sissy’s Thai curried eggplant was superb—but the situation. As far as Vernon was concerned Susan was just some new young friend of Sissy’s. Susan barely spoke. Sissy played most of the roles—hostess, daughter, observer, friend, control. Dominick didn’t especially care; he was just happy to be there, enjoying Sissy’s company. They laughed a lot about things that had nothing to do with any of them. At the end of the meal Vernon excused himself to go watch the end of his ball game, and Sissy took dishes back to the kitchen, leaving Susan and Dominick alone at the table.
“I accept your apology, Susan, but for what?” Dominick asked.
Susan was dressed in jeans and a plain white blouse, like the blouse of a schoolgirl’s uniform, which made her look even younger than her years. “I … you know …” She didn’t look up. She was pale. “I didn’t want you to get in any trouble. I’m sorry if you did.”
“Actually, you seem to have managed it pretty well. Denise put you in a tough spot.”
“I didn’t like that hospital. Sissy got me out. So, are you and …” Susan nodded toward the kitchen. “You know—are you two like a couple? You seem sort of …”
“No, we’ve only just met. Why do you ask?”
“Because she asks a lot of questions, and I don’t know if I should answer them or not. But if she’s your friend then I guess she’s alright.”
“What sort of questions?”
“Oh, about the house and Denise and what goes on there. I mean, she never asked about you.”
“Well, I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t answer her questions. That is if you feel like it and know the answers.”
For the first time, Susan looked up at Dominick. There was a tiny smile on her face. “It might be fun to make things up.”
“It might be fun, but I doubt it would be helpful. Are you staying here then?”
“Sissy has an extra room.”
Sissy called from the kitchen, “Susan, come and give me a hand. Ice cream for desert.”
After desert Dominick helped Sissy with the dishes in the kitchen. There was no dishwasher. Susan was back in the living room with Vernon, watching TV.
“Susan says she’s staying here now,” Dominick said, taking a dish from the rack to dry.
“Until I can figure out what to do with her.”
“How did you spring her from the hospital?”
“She was a voluntary admission. Given the chance she voluntarily left.”
“That simple? She’s not eighteen. Her sister must have checked her in. Wouldn’t her sister have to check her out?”
“Let’s just say Susan went for a ride and didn’t go back. That’s a pretty disreputable place, not very pleasant. She didn’t want to be there.”
“She said you were asking her about the Van Houten place.”
“Just curious. Not that she’s told me anything. All she would say was that she wanted to apologize to you. It was when I mentioned you that she agreed to leave that place. I thought that giving her the chance to meet with you and apologize might loosen her up a bit. She talks to you, I noticed.”
“So that’s why you invited me over? To loosen up Susan?”
Sissy was putting the last dish into the dish rack. “No, that’s not why I invited you over. If anything that was my excuse to myself for inviting you over, because I wanted to see you again and I didn’t know how to arrange that and explain it to myself. I’m sorry. I’m not very good at these attraction things. I flunked chemistry.” Sissy put a soapy hand on Dominick’s arm. “In fact, I wish I had just asked you over without any excuses, so that Daddy and Susan weren’t here tonight complicating things.”
“I’d like that,” Dominick said. Their faces had never been closer. He felt like all the spaces separating them were shrinking. Pheromonal gravitation, he thought. Her eyes were hazel. They smiled.
“You, too?” she said, a personal whisper.
