by Laurel Dewey
“It’s nothing. Burned it in the kitchen.”
“An unfortunate cooking accident?” Kathy inquired. Emily stifled a laugh at the word “cooking.” “Did I say a funny?”
“Just the cooking part,” Jane said. “I’m not exactly Martha Stewart.”
“Well, honey, we can do somethin’ about that!” Kathy exclaimed. “A group of us girls get together every Wednesday evening at a different gal’s house and we trade recipes, dish the dirt and it’s so much fun! We’d love for you to join us!”
“Oh, you know, I—”
“If you’re worried about child care, bring Patty with you. I’ve got a daughter who is ten. I bet you girls would get on just like two peas in a pod!”
“Well, I—”
“Say you’ll think about it,” Kathy instructed, not giving Jane much choice.
Jane wanted out of that place. “We’ll think about it,” she said rigidly.
Kathy bent down to get closer to Emily’s eye level. “Well, now sweetheart, tell me, what are you all bandaged up for?”
Emily started to respond when Jane quickly interjected, “She fell.” There was an awkward moment of silence between the three of them. As soon as she said it, Jane realized that her spitfire response sounded forced.
Kathy looked up at Jane and then back to Emily. “Well, my, my, my. That’s a big bandage for a little girl. Must have been quite a fall—”
Emily started to respond when Jane once again broke in. “She fell off her bike.” Emily looked at Jane, not knowing what to say or do. “It was a tall bike,” Jane added.
There was another awkward slice of silence between them as Kathy studied Emily’s face. “Well, I know what will make you a happy girl.” Kathy turned to Jane. “Mom, what’s her favorite candy?”
Jane stood perplexed. Not only was this perky woman referring to her as “mom,” but she was also asking a question that Jane couldn’t answer. She turned to Emily. “What’s your favorite candy?”
Kathy was slightly dumbstruck. “Oh, you’re teasing me. Every mom knows what kind of candy their kids like!”
“Mounds,” Emily quickly interjected in an attempt to rescue Jane’s faux pas.
Kathy bent down toward Emily, “Well, this is your lucky day. If you go over to the front window, you’ll find a big bowl of candy. And I bet if you dig around in there, you will find your favorite!” Emily crossed to the window and began rooting the Mounds out of the bowl. “Did she have to get stitches?” Kathy whispered.
“Yes,” Jane whispered. “Why are we whispering?”
“I didn’t want the child to think we’re talking about her,” Kathy said, her voice still in a half-whisper.
“She’s not embarrassed about the stitches.” Jane’s voice leveled back to normal. “Now, if you don’t mind, we’re really tired.”
“Of course,” Kathy said, her toothy grin exploding across her face. “I’ll get your key!” She scurried back to her desk and returned with two keys. “Here’s one for you and one for under the mat! Of course, I have to tell you that no one in this town locks their doors. Or their cars. Or their tractors. Or anything!”
“Really?” Jane said, doing her best to squash her innate cop reflex. “Well, you oughta have your Chamber of Commerce publicize that fact so that all the burglars on the Western Slope can hit your town one night.”
Kathy didn’t understand Jane’s response but she still erupted into a big, phony laugh. “That’s a funny! Oh, say, I put together a little information packet for you.” Kathy handed Jane a small envelope. “This’ll give you the skinny on everything you need to know about our fruit festivals and community events as well as addresses and phone numbers for doctors and dentists and all that good stuff! There’s also some ‘Howdy!’ coupons in the front from the merchants in town. When you’re ready to hook up your telephone, just call this number—”
“We’re not going to have a phone,” Jane interrupted.
Kathy was caught off guard. “No phone? Well, that’s . . . different.”
Jane thought fast. “I have a cell phone with a great calling plan.” It was a complete lie; Jane had a pager strapped to her waist and nothing else.
“Wow,” Kathy searched for the proper response. “That’s . . . so 21st century! Anyway, this little booklet has oodles of information. In the back, there’s a section on our school system and the deadlines for enrollment.” Jane’s gut tightened. School was a good two or three months away. She was tempted to ask Kathy how long the lease on the rental house was prepaid. But she knew if she asked that, it would look strange. “It’s super easy to find your house,” Kathy said with giddy enthusiasm as she directed them to their rental across from the town park. “I don’t mean to gab and rush off, but I’ve got to get over to Apple Cart Hardware. They’re fixing a gash in our trampoline.”
Jane and Emily drove back up Main Street in search of their new house. “That didn’t go well,” Emily said.
“What do you mean?”
“We should have figured out a story about my bandage before we went in. I don’t think she believed you when you said I fell off my bike.”
“Who gives a shit?” Jane lit a cigarette and rolled down the window.
“And the candy! Moms know what kind of candy their kids like!”
“Forget about it!”
“I think we should both make a list. On one side it says what we like and on the other side it says what we don’t like. Then we trade lists and we memorize them.”
“That’s too much work.”
“You can leave out the stuff I already know. Like ‘I don’t know how to cook.’”
“I could cook if I wanted to! I just don’t have any interest in it. God invented frozen food for a reason. And restaurants? And pizza delivery?”
“God also invented kitchens, stoves, frying pans and food to put in them!”
“Emily, this is a battle you are not going to win. You’re not gonna starve! We’ll eat out and you can bring home the leftovers. Then the next day, we can warm up the leftovers and you’ll feel like you’re eating a home cooked meal.”
“You mean a home warmed meal?”
“Don’t push it, kid. And don’t fret about what Kathy thinks. She’s a nosy broad.”
“I think she’s pretty. She has a lot of teeth. Am I going to school here?”
Jane couldn’t believe how fast the subject changed. “No.”
“What happens if school starts and we’re still—”
“Emily, this is just a temporary deal before you go to Wyoming.”
“Okay,” Emily said, slightly uneasy.
Jane spotted the town park on the right side and turned left into the driveway of the rental house. It was a small one-story wooden structure, painted white with violet trim. Two cottonwood trees provided full shade on either side of the central path that led to the front door. A white picket fence surrounded the freshly mowed front lawn.
“It looks nice,” Emily said earnestly.
Jane looked around the area, noting the park across the street. “I wish they hadn’t stuck us on Main Street and across from the park. This is ‘laying low?’ ”
“What’s laying low?”
“Staying under the radar. Blending in.” Jane looked into her rearview mirror. A white Ford-150 truck was parked across the street. The single male occupant was slightly obscured as he sat back in the front seat eating a sandwich and listening to the country radio station. Jane turned around to read the signage on the driver’s door.
“What is it?” Emily asked.
“I’m trying to read what that says,” Jane said, squinting.
Emily turned around. “It says, ‘Just Call Dan—24-Hour Home . . . Main. . . . Main . . .”
“Maintenance,” Jane said. “So why in the hell is he sitting there?”
“He’s eating lunch.”
“It’s way past lunch.”
“Is something wrong?”
Jane turned back around. She recalled Chris’ comment, �
��Just because people call you paranoid does not erase the fact that certain other people aren’t out to get you!” Jane accused Chris of being paranoid and now she was proving to have the same behavior. Furthermore, she worried her paranoia was causing her to turn everything into a conspiracy and everyone into a conspirator. But still, it was her job to keep her eyes open to anything and anyone. “Let’s wait here and see what he does.”
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Can’t you hold it?”
“I don’t think so.”
Jane looked into the rear vision mirror and assessed the situation before they got out of the Subaru and headed toward the front door. The sound of a ringing cell phone could be heard coming from the parked truck. Jane spun around. The man inside the truck answered the phone and said, “I can be there in five minutes.” With that, he turned on his ignition. A loud, whistling sound emitted from his engine as he put the truck in gear.
Emily turned to face the truck. The whistling sound drew her in as a trancelike expression descended. In her head, the whistling sound melted into a bloodcurdling, high-pitched scream. Her eyes filled with fear.
“Emily?” Jane said, unlocking the front door.
Emily slipped out of her daze. “Did you hear someone screaming?”
“Screaming?” Jane regarded Emily with care. “No, that’s his truck whistling.”
“Right. The truck.” Emily tried to rectify what she heard as the truck sped up Main Street toward the mesa.
Jane entered the house followed closely by Emily. The place was outfitted with sturdy furniture, some of which looked as though it had seen better days. The walls were covered with framed prints of birds, paintings of fruit and needlepoint landscapes safely pressed between glass. A narrow hallway greeted them and led directly to a small bedroom. If you walked down the hall to the right, you’d find the only bathroom in the house. The living room was to the left of the front door. Just past the living room was a short hallway that led into the kitchen, which was decorated in bright shades of yellow. To the right of the front door was a hall closet and smaller bedroom with a window that overlooked the front yard.
The place felt like a tight box to Jane. But still, the house was clean and appeared to be well taken care of by the owners. While Emily went to the bathroom, Jane checked out the aged radio console next to the television. Scanning the dials, she discovered only a handful of static-free stations, only one of which featured a talk radio format. No chance of tuning in the velvet-voiced Tony Mooney late at night when she couldn’t sleep, Jane thought to herself. Turning on the old television, Jane was greeted with one snowy picture after another.
“What’s wrong with the TV?” Emily said, bouncing back into the room.
“It seems we have an amazing three channels to choose from. But before you get too excited, Channel 5 is the crop report, Channel 2 is the weather report and Channel 7 seems to be one of the networks. But that’s only an assumption since there’s no picture on Channel 7, just sound. So, basically, this thing is one big radio.”
Jane and Emily dragged their bags into the house and did “Rock, Paper, Scissors” to determine who got the back bedroom down the hallway. Jane, as always, won the game. Checking the refrigerator, Jane found a lonely box of baking soda. The shelves were also bare, save for canisters of salt and pepper, a frying pan, two saucepans and assorted mismatched silverware. Jane jotted down a list of items to purchase at the local market.
“Hey, Jane!” Emily excitedly yelled from the backyard area. Opening the sliding glass door that led into the tiny backyard, Jane found Emily pointing eagerly across a thicket of tall grass. “I hear a creek running!” Emily said with adventurous eyes. “Let’s go find out where it is!”
“Emily—”
“Pleeeeese.”
Jane surveyed the area and reluctantly trailed off into the tall grass with Emily. After about ten feet of wading through waist-high field grass and the occasional prickly bull thistle, the two emerged into a verdant, wildflower filled, soggy meadow that spanned a good seven acres. Emily ran ahead of Jane, skipping across the ground and picking a handful of wildflowers.
“I found the creek!” Emily yelled out. “And it leads into a huge lake!” Jane caught up with Emily and followed the creek around a bend of cattails that flowed into a stunning mountain lake that reflected the clear blue sky. “Hey!” Emily said excitedly. “There’s fish in here!” Jane walked to the water’s edge and noted a few large trout cavorting under the water. “I’ve never caught a fish!” Emily announced. “Have you?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Can you teach me?”
“Not without a fishing rod.”
Emily’s attention was quickly drawn to a glint of sunshine refracted off metal. She spotted the backside of an enormous, round metallic structure. “What’s that thing up there on the hill?” Emily asked, chewing nervously on her bottom lip.
Jane strained her eyes against the piercing sun. “It’s a water tower.” The two then curved around the lake, ascended the gradual hill and came up on the immense tower. Standing beneath it, they felt dwarfed by its formidable exterior. Two ladders were built into the tower fifty feet tall and had a radius of at least thirty-five feet. Jane turned to Emily. “Come on, let’s climb up. You go in front of me.”
Emily stood paralyzed, her eyes scanning the sides of the tower. “No . . .” she said, turning away.
“Can you imagine the view? I bet you could see every fruit farm in this valley! Come on, climb up in front of me—”
“No!” Emily said defiantly, pulling away. She felt her heart racing and beads of cold sweat forming across her neck.
“What’s wrong?”
The feeling was obvious to the child. She knew. At that moment, Emily understood everything. “I don’t want to go up there, Jane.” Emily took a step backward. “I’ll . . . ah . . .” She searched for a suitable reason. “I’ll fall.”
Jane stood back for a second. “You weren’t afraid to climb up on your roof.”
“Maybe I should have been,” Emily said quietly.
“Oh, God, Emily,” Jane said very seriously. “Don’t do this to yourself.”
“Do what?”
“Don’t allow fear to rule the rest of your life. Take my word for it, kid. It takes a lot of energy to be scared all the time. It wears you out. One day it’s a water tower, the next day you don’t want to leave your house.”
“You were scared back at my house. You didn’t want me to go outside.”
“Hey, there’s a big difference between being aware of bona fide trouble that’s right in front of you and being afraid of what you can’t see.”
Emily stared at Jane. “I think you’re afraid of what you can’t see.”
“Really? I think it’s the other way around. I think I’m not lucky enough to be blind.” Jane looked up at the tower. “You’re just nine and a half. You could nip this fear in the bud before it gets out of hand. Think about it.” Jane started up the ladder while Emily cautiously watched. “You see?” Jane said, turning her head back to Emily. “Just one step at a time.” When Jane reached the top, she stood up and took in the view. “Oh, Emily, I’m telling you. You’re missing a helluva view!”
“I can hear your voice echoing,” Emily yelled up to Jane, feeling slightly queasy.
Jane hooked her two fingers in her mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle. The sound reverberated from across the mesa. The wind carried the sweet scent of the early summer. There was a moment of peacefulness until Jane happened to look down on the metal surface of the tower. Sunlight bounced hard off the exterior, blinding Jane with its piercing reflection. Suddenly, staccato images flashed in front of Jane. First, there was an explosion of blinding light quickly followed by an outstretched Glock. The wolf’s face flashed next before the odd appearance of the palm print with the backwards date, 10-24-99. Jane shook off the disturbing and seemingly unprovoked vision, holding her forehead in her hand.
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nbsp; “Jane?” Emily said with an uneasy tone. “Are you okay?”
Jane centered herself. “I’m fine.” She lit a cigarette and descended the tower.
Emily stared at the ground in deep thought as Jane planted her feet on terra firma. “I’m starting to remember more,” Emily said, out of the blue.
Jane took a drag on the cigarette. “Like what?”
“I can’t explain it. It’s like I see or hear things that are no big deal and then I feel things and then my head wants to make a picture out of it, but my eyes don’t want to see it. Stuff like that happens almost every day.”
Jane did her best to act nonchalant, the whole time trying to reconcile her own startling visions. “That’s normal. I imagine you’ll continue to get little memory jolts like that until the pieces come together.”
Emily thought for a moment. “What am I going to see?” she said apprehensively.
Jane turned away. She knew the answer to that question all too well. To see the thing you fear the most . . . to go there the first time drives a knife through your heart that infects your soul. And if Emily ever remembered the brutal, bloody scene of her butchered parents . . . well, Jane couldn’t let herself go there. Standing in the lush meadow with the warm summer wind blowing through the grass, Jane decided to lie. “I don’t know what you’ll see.”
Emily looked deep into Jane’s eyes. “Yes, you do.” The child scuffed her shoe against the wet dirt. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.” The two retraced their steps around the lake and across the soggy meadow. “Maybe you can tell me this,” Emily carefully said.
“Is the person who hurt Mommy and Daddy the same person who was on my roof that night when I fell?”
“I would assume there’s a pretty good chance of that.”
“And we’re hiding out here so he doesn’t come and get me?”
“No, that’s not it—”
Emily stopped in her tracks. “It is the truth!”
Jane turned back to her. “I genuinely do not know if that asshole has the energy and desire to find you.”
“Yes, Jane. He does!” Emily’s voice raised several octaves in fear. “And you know it!”
