Linc acted nonchalant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. He leaned over the side of the truck and spat into the dirt. “Drunks and nutcases must run in the family. You’re a liar, just like your old man.”
Rubin put his arm around me. I wasn’t dumb enough to climb back up onto the truck. Instead, I stared at Linc as hard as I could and repeated my challenge. “If my father was a liar, then you won’t mind letting the sheriff take a look around your place, will you?” I gathered the fake papers and waved them in the air. “And what about these documents? My expert says they’re forged.”
The gathering stood frozen as I fell from the truck, unsure perhaps, whether it had been a staged shove or a real one. They murmured now, as if they’d just heard a rancher's version of heresy. Finally, one called out, “What about it, Jackson?” Now it was my turn to smirk.
Tiny and Lutie were at the edge of the crowd, keeping Tru a safe distance away. Their presence strengthened me. I fully expected Linc Jackson to crumble right there on the spot.
But he didn’t. Hopping down from the truck bed, with Ed Johnson following, Linc abruptly abandoned the protest. But he stared over my head, refusing to make eye contact.
“I’m not on trial here,” he finally said. He turned to the ranchers. “You decide for your sorry selves whether to bring your animals to a vet who murders cattle.” He wheeled around once more to point his finger at me. “And you—I’ll see you in court.” Linc strode off.
Everyone watched him go. The wind picked up and bit into our cheeks, and the sun hid itself altogether. The ranchers hesitated and then fired up their trucks. Some of them shook their heads, as if they knew they’d wasted a perfectly good morning, one better spent on chores.
Even the house and the barn and the emu pens took on a dreariness in the dusty haze. I’d never noticed before, but the boards on Rubin's porch were bowed and splintered in places, and the furniture looked shabbier than ever. Paint had peeled off the window sashes, revealing gray, dead wood. Spots in the chicken wire fences sagged where the emus had pecked unmercifully. The ladies from Red Rock Tabernacle might have said all this was a sign.
As people began to leave, Murkee's illustrious law enforcement showed up: one measly patrol car, with the same female deputy. I wanted to know what she intended to do.
“Linc's terrorizing my family.” My breath puffed out in angry clouds. “I’ll file charges. The whole crowd thinks I got pushed off that truck.” The deputy shrugged and refused to look directly at me. I answered for her. “My word against his? Well, now it's Rubin's word against Linc's. I demand some action.”
She looked puzzled and then sighed. “You’re welcome to file a complaint. But don’t go getting any crazy ideas. This isn’t the Wild West. ’Round here we pride ourselves on due process.” She eyed both Rubin and me and then climbed back into the patrol car, apparently satisfied that the riot danger had passed. “Shooting cattle is a serious offense in these parts,” she said. “If I were you I’d get a good lawyer.”
25
I needed to report everything to George. But when I visited his office there still was no word of the expert's findings. Linc had already demanded to see the report, and I didn’t have one—unless you counted Tru's school assignment.
“I’m stalling for time,” George said. “But Linc's plenty mad. He's already in touch with the judge. What you did out there at Rubin's was, ah, unfortunate.”
“I tipped him off,” I said. “I admit that. But I know there's a fake deed someplace.”
“Our guy contact you?”
“No, but I feel it. And the missing artifacts prove something, don’t they?”
George shook his head. “Where are they? How do you know Linc's got them in his possession?”
“I just have a feeling, that's all.” I gulped.
George looked upset. “Linc may have already sold the pieces. If he's awarded the water rights, he can do what he wants with the creek. And if that certificate is genuine, Linc will sue you for more than slander.”
“I’ve got photos too,” I said. “And a university expert. Besides, Linc won’t be able to resist another good find. I’m almost sure of it.”
“You’re taking a huge risk, Muri. Huge.” He smiled. “But I have to admit you’ve got guts. Good luck.”
“Lutie says we’ve got angels on our side—better than luck.” I thought of Nova's angel. “Any leads on my daughter?”
“No,” he said. No one had heard anything except rumors that I might be as delusional as my father. “I’ll let you know the moment I hear something. Just don’t pull any more crazy stunts, okay?” George walked me to the entrance of his office.
“You have my word on it.” My shoulders slumped as I walked outside and started Tiny's truck. Sometimes I wished I’d never come here at all.
I drove to the creek to think, to yell, to cry. I knelt at the shallow spot in the creek where I’d buried the arrowhead and heart-shaped rock. I watched for a glint from the arrowhead, but there wasn’t a trace. I had to be sure Linc had taken them. Again and again I felt around in the silt and checked up and down the stream, in case the current had carried away the artifacts. Nothing.
I stood alone, my hands and arms dripping with cold mud, and listened to the creek burble. My bait was gone. I only hoped Linc's greed was as big as his ego.
When I got back to the trailer, Rubin was there. He and my uncle discussed the protest scene. Both men shook their heads in disbelief at my speech. Lutie fussed over me and wanted to know if I’d got the proof of Linc's shenanigans yet.
I washed my hands in the outside washtub. I wouldn’t say anything about the missing items. Not yet. “No,” I said, “but George says our expert's rushing it. We ought to hear something soon.”
Rubin said, “If we don’t then you’ll get blackballed too.”
Tru looked defiant. “Don’t say that,” he said. “You’ll show them, Mom. I know it.” He pushed up his glasses and then crossed his arms.
Lutie and Tiny were concerned as well. “You watch yourself, honey,” Tiny warned. “You never know.”
“What do you mean?” My heart banged against my ribs. I still felt the adrenaline of keeping a secret, one that could break Linc or else destroy me.
Rubin answered for him. “He means that in a small town you’re either family or you’re the enemy. There's no in-between.” He sighed. “After what you saw at my place, you might guess we’re both the enemy to Linc.”
“You didn’t do it, did you?” I stared into Rubin's eyes. “Tell me you didn’t go out and gun down those cows.”
“No, I didn’t do it,” he said. He raised his hand as if he was taking an oath. “As God is my witness, I only put down the two that were still breathing. Only merciful thing to do.”
“I believe you.”
“What are you going to do now?” Lutie asked Rubin. “I’ll speak to George—”
“Thanks, but I’ll handle this myself,” Rubin said.
I looked around at the yard, where the truck had mined new gouges into the sepia-toned soil. Already the wind was at work again, lifting and sifting dirt against our faces like a light dusting of face powder. Tiny turned to leave, saying the pigs’ feeding time was overdue, and Lutie hauled Tru away on some excuse about his homework. Rubin and I needed to talk and perhaps they sensed it, or maybe they were simply tired of standing in the cold.
I sat down on the tire planter and examined a tear in my shirt. “Linc's got to be worried,” I said.
I’d never seen Rubin look so discouraged. “Muri,” he said, “I’ve got to tell you something.”
“Don’t tell me you shot another pig.”
His smiled looked forced. “No. I don’t know how to say this, but I’ve decided to take Linc up on his offer to buy me out.” He didn’t look at me, just angled his shoulder around a bit as he rested his elbows on a stack of bicycle parts.
“You’re kidding. No, you’re not kidding.” I hoped Tiny and Lutie
weren’t listening. I stood up and walked farther from the trailer.
Rubin followed. We stopped behind the burned-out shed. “Linc's got too much influence,” Rubin said. “I can’t survive as a vet if I’m blackballed.”
“We’re almost home free,” I said. “You’ll see.”
“I can’t wait.”
“What difference does a day or two make?”
He faced me, his eyes as sad as I’d ever seen them. “You’ve been here less than six months, not long enough to understand what it's like out here. People don’t forget things. People hold grudges.”
I had to keep fighting. “I’m sure Linc faked papers to sell the stuff. Once folks know the truth they’ll come back. Why can’t you trust me?”
Rubin kicked at the ground with his boot heel. “Linc's up to something; you’re right. But I’m not the only vet in the county. Those idiotic emus bring in more headaches than cash. And I’m losing the battle to restore the creek.”
My arms dropped to my sides. For once I was speechless. I remembered what the real Chief Joseph had said long ago. “Fight no more forever,” I said. I braced myself for something terrible and put my fears into the shape of a piece of really bad news.
Rubin's eyes narrowed. “I’m at the end of my rope with Linc, with emus, with everything,” he said. “I’m out of here.” He slapped the side of the shed so hard I thought it might collapse.
My body grew numb with a tingling that began at the soles of my feet, filling me with a rush of emptiness. Finally I said, “Where will you go?” This was the only thing I could force from my lips. A tornado of images swirled in my mind: the streambed dry and dead and bones of starved emus bleaching in the sun. I pictured myself standing against the wind in the middle of a desert, with all the life sucked out of me—and all because I’d come here to find a family. With Rubin gone I wouldn’t only be very lonely but also surrounded.
“I’ve got this buddy in Bend, another vet who wants to expand his practice.” Rubin said.
I placed my hand on Rubin's shoulder. “Please. Give me a little more time.”
“I’ve run out of time.” He stroked my hair. “It's not about you. You’re the one thing that keeps me going. But I’ve thought about it a lot. You don’t deserve any more problems.” He gazed at me with real hurt.
I leaned against his chest. “I’ve got as many problems as you do, Rubin. Actually, I’ve been thinking of starting over somewhere else myself.”
Rubin held me at arm's length. “Why? You’re certain Linc stole the artifacts, right?”
I looked away. “Sort of. Probably.” I sighed. “I’m hoping he took the bait.”
Rubin whistled softly. “You’re as dangerous as I am.”
“I feel about as dangerous as a newborn today,” I said. “But that's not why I was thinking of leaving.”
Rubin held my hands. “Because of me? I swear I’d never shoot an innocent animal.”
I shook my head. “No, no, not you. I feel torn, that's all. Torn between you and my father's place and my daughter. If I hadn’t hauled us out here, she might never have run away.”
“If? That's a big if, Muri. Besides, I think Nova just got carried away. She’ll be back.”
“That's what Aunt Lutie says. But it's been weeks. Even when I find her I can’t force Nova to live in the middle of nowhere. She was miserable here.”
Rubin's eyes took on a hopeful glint. “You could move to Bend. One happy family.”
I looked away. “If I relocate, it’ll be to Portland. Sorry.”
Rubin kissed the top of my head. “I’m sorry too.” He sounded defeated. “I guess we’ll have to get used to a longdistance relationship.”
I looked up. “For now it's the best we can do.”
He was suddenly guarded. “Listen, I’ve got a million things to do. I’d best get going.”
“Whatever you need, please let me know.” I held back tears.
“Definitely.” He ran a hand along my cheek and then quickly turned his back. Over his shoulder, he said, “I’ll call you later today.” With hunched shoulders and his head down, Rubin walked off. I hoped it wasn’t for good.
Staring after him, I watched his breath puff white smoke into the cold air. With so much to worry about, I could hardly breathe at all. I cared about Rubin, and I didn’t want to lose him. Stay or go? Portland or Bend? What advice would my father give?
I wished I could sit beneath that cottonwood out by the stream, just stretch out there, commune with leafless branches, and talk to my dad. I wanted to talk all this stuff over with the one who had started it all. The day I’d driven out here, Nova and her brother had sat in the back seat and pelted each other with food. I wished again that my daughter were here. My throat tightened as it did each time her face came into my mind. As time wore on, I thought of her less frequently. Now I was down to missing her just a few thousand times a day.
26
A day later, the phone rang after dinner. Truman picked it up. “Mom, it's for you.” I guessed it must be either George or Rubin, but Tru shook his head. “Nope, it's that lady named Gwen.”
I had no idea I could move so fast. I sprinted to the phone, and Tru looked at me with surprise. Lutie's mouth gaped for a brief moment, and then she returned to the sink full of dishes, praying out loud. When Tiny came in and banged the screen door, she shushed him, and he grinned as if he was in on some big secret.
“Oh, Lord,” I said. “Gwen thinks she knows where Nova is.”
Tiny and Tru cheered, and Lutie closed her eyes. I held up my hand for quiet.
“I’ve had Denny checking on this,” Gwen said. “One of our church's outreach guys says he's seen her hanging in the downtown area.”
“Is she still with that kid named Marvin?” I don’t know why I asked or why I thought it mattered.
“Not sure on that,” Gwen said. “But listen, sweetie, here's the tough part: outreach guy says the word on the street is that Nova has checked herself into detox.”
A fog of despair paralyzed me. Lutie and the guys fell silent. Detox? “Why on earth would she need—” I stopped before I had to say it out loud.
Gwen's voice stayed even, soothing. “I’ve got the center's number right here. They won’t give Denny or me any information, or we’d have gone down there and talked to her.” She paused. “I’m so sorry, Muri.”
Tiny took the phone from me because I could barely stand. He wrote down the information and thanked Gwen and Denny for their help. After he hung up the phone he motioned to Tru, who was stroking Jim's ears.
“Come on, son,” my uncle said. “We’ve got some bikes that need fixing.” Tiny put his arm around Tru's shoulder and led him outside, with Jim trotting along behind. The screen shut without a sound, restrained by Tiny's hand.
Lutie fixed me some kind of herbal tea while I sobbed. When I could think again, I called the detox center in Portland. It didn’t matter that I was Nova's mother. I couldn’t get any more information than Denny or Gwen.
The receptionist was friendly but firm. “We can’t give out any personal information. HIPPA Privacy Law,” she said. “Kids try to get info on their friends and try to sneak in dope. That's why clients go through blackout. Everything's locked down. Wish I could be more helpful.”
“Nova, her name's Nova,” I whispered into the receiver. “If she's there—if she comes around again, would you please tell her to call home?”
The line clicked off. It had all been too good to be true. Lutie let me alone then, solemnly lowering and raising her yellow-gloved hands in and out of sudsy water, dunking the dishes one by one. The exaggerated quiet told me she felt Nova's loss as keenly as I did.
Tiny and Tru came in and out to fetch tools and once to find the duct tape, which turned up under the serape that blanketed the back of the worn sofa. Tiny pulled off a long strip of tape, the sound ripping the tension apart a little, reminding me that life was still happening. They tracked a little mud in on the rug, too, which Lutie poin
ted at with a frown.
“I’m going into town for a part,” Tiny said. “You want to go, Tru?”
“No, thanks.” Tru stood next to me where I sat at the dinette table and placed his small hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Mom,” he said. I could have kissed him then for being my son and for being so rock solid. But he slipped away, off to speak the simpler language of sprockets and bicycle gears. I couldn’t hold it against him.
I heard the truck engine start, and then Tru let the screen door clap shut once more. The lace curtains fluttered while the family gallery looked on from the rickety side table like a muted cheering section. I stared hard at my father's picture and assured him I was going to find her somehow. Nova's glass angel reflected light and threw a rainbow up on the wall. I felt like the victim of some cosmic cheap trick.
Seconds later, it dawned on me that I didn’t hear Tru playing outside in the yard or hammering on wood. My son was certainly old enough to be on his own for some things, but unlike his runaway sister, he always told me where he’d be. Except that this time, he hadn’t. Panic rose in my throat.
I threw on my ratty blue sweater and waved to Lutie, crocheting in her chair. “I’m going out to look for Tru. Did he tell you where he was going?”
“What? No.” Her face pinched with worry. “And Tiny's gone to town. Lord, Lord, not again.”
“If I’m not back in twenty minutes, call the sheriff.”
“I’ll be warrior praying.” She laid down her yarn as I sprinted out the door.
I rounded the curve by the bullet-riddled power company sign. Up ahead, I heard a sound like rocks bouncing off metal. Tru's unmistakable voice floated on the breeze. I looked up and froze. My son was kicking dirt at Linc's shiny monster truck where it sat parked at the edge of our property. Linc was nowhere around.
The Fence My Father Built Page 23
