Rudy took a deep breath and looked at her. “Yeah. You’re right.”
He paused for a minute, then continued:
“I thought of asking Bimsley for information, too. What he thought of everything, you know? I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Like one of those old Charles Bronson movies? I want someone to pay for this. I want to be the one to make them pay.” Rudy closed his eyes, rubbed them with his fingers, and shook his head.
Masie thought he felt ashamed for saying what he did. “If you want me to help you, I will,” she said. “I mean, not about making someone pay. I can’t afford to go to jail.”
Rudy chuckled, his laughter light and easy.
“I don’t know what we can do,” Masie said. “But if that’s what you want, I’m willing to help. If it’ll make you feel better, I’m willing to do that.”
Rudy nodded. Masie wondered if he regretted asking her to talk still. Maybe he just wanted someone to tell him he wasn’t crazy.
“The funny things is,” he said, “I don’t know where to begin.”
“What have you been doing?”
His grinned, looking up at her, his eyes grayish green. “Reading.”
“Reading what?”
Rudy raised his eyebrows. “Books about serial killers.”
Masie’s eyes widened. “Books about serial killers?”
Rudy nodded. “I think I was just trying to understand what happened to my little brother…the only way I knew how.”
Masie was silent for a while, then said, “Anything else bothering you?”
Rudy cocked his head, thinking about it. Masie didn’t realize how stupid a thing that was to say. What else was bothering him? His little brother had been killed; his mother was going mad, and his dad withdrew from it all. Other than that, Mase, sure, thing’s are great!
“I think Dad’s scared of taking Mom to a doctor,” Rudy said, “because the doctor might recommend…you know…” He shrugged. “Right now, it just seems obvious.”
Masie nodded.
“Dad isn’t Dad without her,” he continued. “I’m scared for him.” Rudy looked down, stirring his Cool Misty again. Since they’d sat down, he’d taken only one drink of it.
Masie wondered how she’d feel after all that, and suddenly, she wanted to reach out and grab his hand again. When Rudy looked at her, pain etched his face.
“I’m sorry about Sadie,” Masie said, and grabbed his hand again.
There were tears in his eyes. He looked down and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thanks,” he said. “A lot of people have been saying that lately, and I hate hearing it. But from you…I’m glad it came from you. Thank you, Masie.”
Masie couldn’t understand it, but she wanted to hold him, let him know he wasn’t alone. She didn’t understand a lot of things lately, but she wanted to understand Rudy; she wanted to be with him, pacify his pain, know the complexities of every trouble he had. She’d never comprehend the extent of his anguish, she knew, but being here meant a lot, and she hoped it meant a lot to him. She was glad he’d talked to her the other day, and she was even happier he’d called. As difficult as it was, being here did the same thing for him as it was doing for her. She had a little brother as well. She might not fully understand, but she tried to imagine life without Seth. She didn’t think she could do it.
What if Seth disappeared and never came back? she thought.
“I feel so stupid,” Rudy said.
“That’s silly. It’s perfectly okay.”
Rudy shook his head and looked out the window. “Just…desperate,” he said. “I wanted to talk this out. But I didn’t want to feel like I needed to talk it out. Most guys aren’t that way, I guess. And then, I start doing this.” He wiped his eyes in disgust. “It just makes me feel…”
“Vulnerable?”
“God! I hate that word,” he said.
Masie chuckled. Rudy looked up and smiled. He was cute, the black curl falling into his eyes. The last word she would’ve used to describe him was stupid. He was anything but stupid. She was surprised how much his smile transformed his face, green eyes turning dark on a blotched and freckled complexion. His lips were fuller, redder.
No, she thought. I am not falling for him, am I? That’s ridiculous.
Rudy was only seventeen but every inch his own man. She could see the man he would become, authentic, not pretending to be something he wasn’t.
“You said…” Rudy began. “You said you had some things you wanted to talk about, too. I think now’s a good time to change the subject, Masie.”
Masie raised her eyebrows. In a way, she’d completely forgotten. She’d been hoping, in fact, to avoid this side of the conversation. She didn’t want to take the attention off of Rudy.
“You’re right,” Masie said, taking a deep breath.
“So?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
Masie looked into her raspberry drink, then at Rudy. It was Rudy, who reached out and grabbed her hand now. The action made her want to laugh.
“I went to the church to see if I could find someone to talk to,” she said. “Just like you wanted to talk to me. It seemed to make sense…to go there instead of…anywhere else.” Masie paused, gathering her thoughts. What was she afraid of? Did she feel threatened after all that he’d shared with her?
“And you did?” he asked.
She nodded again. “Yes,” Masie told him. “I don’t know how to explain it. Most of all it’s me, I guess. I’ve been having these thoughts. Things I can’t make sense of. I don’t know what to do about them. I guess I’m desperate, too.” She paused. “I feel like I won’t say anything different than what you just told me, Rudy. I want answers, too. I think about Seth all the time…”
Masie thought of saying something about Sadie, but resisted, then continued:
“I’m scared. I’m scared for this town, for what’s been happening, for what’s happening to you and your family. I keep hoping somebody does know. And I guess, maybe a lot of it’s just an emptiness inside. Like you said…this town, everyone pretending nothing happened. Maybe that’s how they’re dealing with it. I don’t know, but it seems strange. It doesn’t seem right. Not just deaths, but horrible deaths. A child’s death. There’s nothing more horrifying than the death of a child. It’s not something you just forget, then get on with your life. It’s like something or someone is trying to tell you something. Maybe it’s just the way the world is. I don’t know. It drives me crazy thinking about it. So, I thought…or I got to thinking…I see this church every day. I think about God. I think about Him all the time, but I’ve never been a religious person. I felt I needed an explanation or I’d go crazy, you know?”
Masie paused, shaking her head. “So, I went to this church. I met the pastor. Jasper Bellows. He was so likeable. I took to him right away. Easy to talk to. The way he said things, it just made sense—something I already had inside no one ever put into words before. It was vague, but it made sense, too.”
Rudy nodded. He let go of her hand while she spoke. He looked at it now as if wanting to hold it again. He put the straw to his lips and nibbled on the end without taking a drink.
“I was…” Masie began. “I was curious about God, I suppose. What someone else thought about God. I wanted to know if He was real. I wanted to know how people believed in Him. Jasper told me some things I never really thought about before. Stuff like, ‘How do you know you’re Masie Auburn?’”
“What did he mean by that?”
“Just what you’d expect. How do you know you’re Rudy McCall? You just know. You know. I think that’s what he was trying to tell me. It’s inside. It’s a feeling you get. You can feel Him. He’s with you. He loves you. And He wants you to find Him. He is peace, comfort, and joy. And…well. He said something I thought was funny. ‘Going through life with a sense of spirit is a hell of a lot more enjoyable than going through life without one.’”
Rudy raised his eyebrows. He looked skeptical. Masie understood; she’d fel
t the same way, but now she wondered…His (God’s) children were here to make decisions on their own. Some made good decisions; some made bad decisions, the necessity of good and evil. It wasn’t as if He enjoyed his children making bad decisions. She understood why it made Him sad. It just was. Bad things happened. It wasn’t up to Him to interfere; it was up to Him to direct and guide, for his disciples to interfere perhaps. Masie tried to relay this to Rudy now. Hadn’t Jasper said faith was the belief in things not seen? Rudy couldn’t see anything but the death of his brother, yet she saw how the conversation was a good thing. Rudy was looser. It wasn’t skepticism, but surprise, reverence, even awe. He was trying to understand what she’d said.
Maybe Masie was what he needed. Maybe this diversion, this conversation was the perfect thing to take him away from his troubles at home.
Masie smiled to herself.
“What’s so funny?” Rudy asked.
“Nothing,” she said.
She needed the same things from Rudy. She felt just as vulnerable, and she did not want him to scoff at her. She wanted him to tell her what Jasper had told her. Follow your feelings. She wanted acceptance. She was not religious, but she was spirited.
“So,” Rudy said. “Do you believe?”
Masie thought about it, cocking her head. “I don’t know,” she said, truthfully. “I suppose it’s possible. But I’m not sure I believe in a God only one religion talks about. I suppose it’s convenient to believe in your own God, too, you know? But that seems funny. Some people’s God would allow them to do anything. ‘Well, my God lets me drink and smoke, and swear and commit adultery.’”
“‘My God lets me sin,’ in other words,” Rudy said.
“Exactly. That can’t be right. That can’t be the way God is, if He’s there at all.”
Rudy nodded. “Yes. I can understand that. It makes perfect sense.”
“But if God wants us to do certain things, isn’t it up to us to find out what those things are? I mean, shouldn’t we be doing His will, regardless of what we believe?”
“How do you know what His will is?” Rudy asked.
Masie shrugged. “Jasper said something else. He said sometimes our will and God’s will are the same. There’s always prayer, too, I guess. Scripture, even.”
“Do you believe in that?”
“I don’t know. I never really tried it. I mean, you sometimes say a silent prayer in your heart. That’s the same thing, isn’t it? You’re talking to Him. I think that’s all He really wants. He doesn’t want you to go out and sacrifice the neighbor’s cat, things like that, but He wants you to talk to Him. I think He gets disappointed if we don’t. I think He wants to hear from us, each and every one of us, no matter how we feel, how far away we are from Him. But it’s up to us to find out what He wants. I don’t think He expects us to be perfect. But I do think—if He is there—that He wants us to find Him. That He expects us to be as much like Him as we can. We’re gonna have weaknesses. That’s just the way it is. We’re human, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try.”
“Sounds like you already know, Masie. Do you feel good about it?”
Masie smiled. She was glad she’d talked to Rudy. “Yes,” she said, feeling it in her voice. “I do feel good about it. I feel really good about it.”
Rudy showed genuine encouragement. He looked as though he’d forgotten about Sadie, what was happening at home, if only for a moment. “I think you’re on the right track,” he said. “If it feels good, don’t ignore it.” Rudy laughed, looking down at the table, then at her again. “You gave me a lot to think about, Masie. I still feel like a goof for approaching you that day. But I’m glad I did it. Thanks.”
Masie reached across the table and grabbed his hand for what seemed the millionth time. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being a good friend.”
Rudy shrugged and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
Masie laughed.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
Masie shook her head. “I was just thinking…you were the one who wanted to talk to me. I think I needed to talk to you just as much…if not more. Funny the way things go, don’t you think?”
“It feels good,” Rudy said.
Not knowing what to say, Masie looked out the window at the cars driving by. Inside, Thirsty Burst still brimmed with patrons. Dido’s “White Flag,” came on the jukebox.
Yes, she felt good. She was glad Rudy had approached her that day.
“Are you hungry at all?” Rudy asked.
“Actually, I’m starving.”
“Wanna get a cheeseburger?” he asked.
“I’d love to.”
“Good. Let’s get outta here.”
They threw what was left of their Cool Misty’s away, walking outside into the September sunshine. The air was still heavy without a breeze.
“If you’re a reptile,” Rudy said. “It’s a beautiful day,”
Masie smiled. Rudy looked different, calmer. She wanted to grab his hand, but resisted, and wondered if he felt the same. Masie closed her eyes. Having him walk beside her—at least for now—was good enough for her.
CHAPTER XI
This is what it’s like to see again. This is what it’s like to care.
He hadn’t felt this way in a long time. Life was a mystery once more, something he’d failed to understand, but that was fine. Life was a big, beautiful mystery again, and that was exactly how he wanted it to be. He would steal these opportunities from now on. Things were different. After three years, the fog had finally lifted.
This carapace you’ve had, he thought, this heavy mold you’ve been unable to break through is no longer rampant with the filth of your disease. You’ve been able to shed it, at least for the time being. Perhaps your heart is still unfit for health. Perhaps sobriety is still too much of a shock.
The old sores slipped away. For Algernon Alister, they would no longer bog him down. No longer would his sickly limbs throb with pain! No longer would he be unable to lift himself out of his chair! For the first time in eons, he understood peace in its finest and most rarest form. He was tired of being tired. Tired of the pouring, clammy sweat, the thick film in his mouth.
Since he’d lost Grant and Lucia—since Eva—his head was clear. The haze had been there for far too long. He was moving around, despite the protests in his limbs. His knees popped painfully when he stood up or sat down. He got dizzy and light-headed, but inside, his spirit rejoiced! He felt new again! For the past week, he’d swept the patio, pulled up the weeds alongside the house, and polished all the windows…at least the ones he could get to. He’d devoted himself to airing out the house; he planned further renovations. The smell—especially upstairs of stale skin, his dirty robe, and the wine—was gone. He was burning candles, ceramic dishes on the stove with potpourri. The smell reminded him of Eva. The house was his mind and body. He would start with the inside and work his way out.
He laughed when he thought about Malcolm’s face that day. After calling to him, thinking himself Ebenezer Scrooge, Malcolm had come into view at the bottom of the stairs, asking Algernon what the matter was.
“The prize turkey in the window, boy!” Algernon had cried, leaning against the doorframe.
Malcolm looked as though his grandfather had lost his mind. The boy did not reply with the given line: “You mean the one as big as me?” Algernon laughed at the dumbfounded look on his grandson’s face, and said, “How come you didn’t pull me outta here sooner? How come you let me get this bad? How come you didn’t threaten me with the gun! It would’ve been okay. All I ever wanted was right there! All I ever needed! There!” He’d pointed out the window, out the open French doors, and into the sun-filled meadow beyond the house.
Malcolm couldn’t see where his grandfather pointed, of course, and had no idea what the old man was talking about. The boy stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up at Algernon, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Are you feelin
g all right?” Malcolm finally asked.
“I have been in this prison too long,” Algernon said, with obvious regret. “And I’m sorry, Malcolm. I can’t forgive myself for what I’ve done. But I will make it up to you. That, I can promise.”
Algernon ran down the stairs. He was, quite literally, Ebenezer Scrooge after a visitation from the three spirits, his gait shaky and a little dangerous.
“Come on, boy!” Algernon cried, his cloak whipping behind him as he ran past Malcolm, out the front door, onto the patio, and down the steps.
Malcolm ran after his grandfather, more worried than happy. He didn’t want Algernon to hurt himself. He followed him outside and into the yard, watching his grandfather disappear around the side of the house.
Jumping for joy, and all with delight, Algernon thought. I’m as giddy as a schoolboy! I’m as light as a feather!
Algernon ran through the backyard and into the surrounding meadow. The afternoon sun was blinding in a bright blue sky. He could barely see because it was so bright. No, this was something he most definitely was not used to
To Malcolm, the sight was warmly comical, as if the phantom on the porch had never been. Maybe all glad tidings killed darkness after all.
Malcolm laughed and ran after the old man. “Grandpa!” the boy shouted. “Be careful!”
It was the perfect day, Algernon thought. The perfect day to slip off the old skin and don the new. Alcohol oozed, rancorous, from his pores. He winced at his own smell. The sun was already cooking it out of him, but by God, it felt good!
This is what the grass feels like under naked feet, he thought. This is what the sun does. This is how brightness heals all wounds!
The black cloak was too heavy, absorbing the sun’s heat. It would be easier to run without it, but for now, all he did was look up into the bright blue sky. White, rolling clouds drifted above the trees.
A perfectly, blissful summer day, Algernon thought, and laughed.
A canal was just ahead through the cottonwoods. It seemed a lifetime since he’d been outside, since he’d been this far from the house.
Snapdragon Book I: My Enemy Page 26
