The Devil and Preston Black (Murder Ballads and Whiskey)
Page 21
"You going to stay there when you graduate? Won't you have better luck finding a job in the city?"
"There are schools everywhere. Once I finish my PhD I'm free to go wherever." Her arms brushed mine, sending fire into my belly and down my legs.
"Then I wouldn't have any reason to take the PRT up to the Towers." I gave her a nudge with my elbow, but didn't pull it away so quickly. "Why do you want to teach anyway?"
"I didn't know what else to do, so I kept going to school." She put her head on my shoulder. "And it's safe."
I could smell her hair, feel the soft skin of her forehead on my chin. My heart went from "Dazed and Confused" to "Since I've Been Lovin' You" faster than John Paul Jones became irrelevant after Bonzo died.
"Besides, you haven't given me a reason to invite you back up yet, have you?" She twisted toward me, looking up into my eyes. Moonlight covered part of her face in shadow, but I could see her sincerity. Wind blew hair across her face. I gently pushed it behind her ear with my finger.
She leaned forward, lifting her lips to mine by standing on her tiptoes. Her eyes were closed. All I had to do was lean forward.
When I touched her lips I heard a new song. As I put my hands on her tiny waist, slid them down her skirt then beneath her jacket, I forgot it. She wrapped me in a tight embrace, then leaned away, studying me. Her wide pupils locked into mine. She touched my chin, gently tracing my jaw and my cheek with her fingertip. Her delicate lips pursed at the corners, like she was reading a novel. I looked at the way her blue eyes were almost the same color as the sky. I smiled, then laughed.
"What? What is it?" She covered her mouth with her hand.
"You look like you're about to burst into flame."
She kissed me again, unzipping my jacket and laying her palms flat on my chest. "Should we go to the lodge? Or there's a B and B in Thomas?"
I kissed her forehead, taking a second to lay my cheek against her soft hair and skin. I knew what I wanted to say, but couldn't think of a way to say it without sounding like a seventh grader. "Not tonight."
She got stiff and pulled away from me. "Why not? What's wrong?"
I pulled her back to me. "Nothing. Nothing at all. I just don't want this to end." The breeze, the sky, the sound of water—I couldn't have imagined a more perfect scene.
"Besides," I said, holding her head against my chest. "I like you too much to take you to a hotel for the night."
And when she relaxed again and sank into me, I closed my eyes. For once, I'd meant what I'd said.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I washed my stubble right down the sink. When Jamie asked if I'd like to join everybody for Sunday dinner at his parents' house I knew I had to look presentable. I woke up feeling really shitty, like a hangover without the alcohol. But then I remembered where I'd woken up and things got better. I had to ask if I could borrow a razor. By the time I finished, the guy in the mirror looked like a new person. Clean and more well-rested than I'd been in a while.
But Katy and her mom were late coming to dinner, so I got to hang out on the couch with her grandpap. John Collins seemed like the type of guy who'd disapprove of any guy one of his girls brought home. That's what I told myself anyway. It made it easier to accept the strained silence I got. Katy's grandma, Alice, treated me kinder. She made sure I had something to drink and showed me pictures of all her kids and grandkids. She reminded me a lot of Pauly's grandma.
I asked Alice if she needed help and ended up peeling potatoes. When Katy got there I drafted her to help. She introduced me to her mom, Rachael, a beautiful woman with half a smile, just like Katy's. When Rachael mentioned Katy'd never brought a guy home from school, I endeared myself to her with the awkward joke, "I didn't really have a choice."
We hung out until about four, playing Scrabble, which I sucked at. Katy asked me when I wanted to leave, and I said I didn't have a reason to rush back to town. So we walked back to her house to load her car. As we dodged mud puddles she showed me important places from her personal geography—old stone walls where blackberries grew in the summer, an old pavilion where they used to have family reunions. I told her, "We barely had a yard."
After a quick tour of the house we went up to her room. Pink walls and white bookshelves filled with high school yearbooks and pictures of her as a younger girl made me really, really look at her differently. She was a girl I barely knew, but wanted to hang onto. She handed me a few bags and a laundry basket and went toward the stairs. Katy said, "For a long time I couldn't figure out if I wanted to stay here or leave forever. I still don't know."
Then she handed me a small coin. She said, "My mom wanted me to give this to you. It's from Ireland. A knot to keep the devil away."
I didn't say anything.
Katy said, "Jamie told her. Sorry."
We drove back to her grandparents' house and said our goodbyes. Alice gave me a delicate silver chain and pendant. She said, "Our Lady of Medjugorje. You need to wear it."
Katy kind of rolled her eyes apologetically.
I thanked Alice, and she gave me a hug. She said, "Be careful." And just after that she mumbled something I didn't understand at all.
I shook Jamie's hand, and told him I couldn't ever thank him enough, not necessarily for the song, but for the confidence and peace of mind the weekend had given me. He said he might be down Friday, but wouldn't make any promises. Katy's mom gave me a hug.
In the car I asked Katy what her grandma had said. She replied, "Go mbeannai Dia duit. It's Irish."
I said, "I thought they spoke English in Ireland."
She laughed for the wrong reason, and said, "Gaelic. Means 'God bless you' or something like that."
"Like when you sneeze?"
She smiled, but that was about it. "It means they're worried about you."
"Oh."
We drove home under the spell of a quiet sadness, like the weekend ended just before it could've gotten real good. We sped through the little town of Davis in a matter of minutes—the fire hall, the pizza shop, Jamie's house, they were all just memories if I never made it back up here again. We dipped into Thomas, down a one way road that'd take us home. The Blackwater got smaller as we crept toward Backbone Mountain. By the time I caught a glimpse of the big windmills, the river disappeared. As we crested the mountain Katy turned on her phone. Almost on cue, Chelsea called.
"We can get a signal here?" I asked.
"Yeah. Back in Thomas really, but I consider this the border between us and the outside world." Katy hit ignore and put her phone into the cup holder.
"Mind if I charge mine?" I had to dig through my stuff to find my charger. I plugged my phone in and waited for the buzz to come out of hibernation. The LCD screen glowed, a tiny little hourglass told me to be patient. After getting a few seconds of juice my phone rang to life. I had voicemails.
I asked Katy if she minded. She said she didn't.
The lady said, Please enter your password.
I obeyed, like I always did.
First unheard message, sent Wednesday at eleven twenty AM.
The first message came from Dani. I put the phone in my other ear so Katy couldn't hear. She said, her voice as low and soft as I'd ever heard it, "I may have overreacted. All night I thought about you, wishing that you were here. I may have made a mistake. Please call me."
Shit. I guess that was a no-brainer. I deleted it.
Next unheard message, sent Thursday at ten twelve AM.
"Preston, this is Pauly..." He didn't say anything for a while. I could hear him sobbing. "Stevie Croe just called me. Stu's dead. He's gone, man. Stevie said Stu's Humvee flipped into a flooded drainage ditch during a storm. The driver got out and Stu didn't. He never even made it off base."
Then came a really long pause. "Maybe we can ride down to the funeral home together? Call me, man. I need you here right now. Please call me back."
My head dropped. I rolled down the window. "Please pull over," I whispered.
Katy slowed down
and rode the shoulder for a hundred yards. A sign by a turn-off read CATHEDRAL STATE PARK, but the road had been blocked with saw horses. I opened the door and took a few steps away from the car. Katy killed the engine and got out, her jangling keys like a bell around a cat's neck.
"Preston..." She put her hand on my shoulder, "Hey, Preston, look at me."
I couldn't do anything but stare at the ground. She pushed my hair away from my eyes and kissed my forehead. "What is it? Are you okay?"
I looked at her. My lips parted, but my throat hurt to say it. My head hurt to comprehend it. "Stu's dead. Pauly said Stu's dead."
I dropped to the road, aware of my knees in the mud and grit on the berm but not caring. I grabbed a fistful of icy snow and pushed it into my eyes. But it couldn't stop my head and throat from squeezing. Katy knelt beside me. I fell into her, and I let it all go.
"Stu, oh man. My brother." Tears slid down my cheeks. "My brother. . . It's not fair, Katy. It's not fair." I wiped my nose on my sleeve and then noticed my tears had gotten on Katy's sweater. She pulled me closer.
"It's not fair," I yelled into the trees. My shoulders shook. I coughed. I wanted to throw up. Katy cupped a little bit of clean snow in her hand and held it to my lips. A car rolled by on the highway and caught us in its headlights. I must've looked like an asshole on my knees in the snow.
Katy helped me to my feet, but my knees felt weak. She guided me back to the car. She brushed off my knees with her hand.
I tried to speak, but couldn't.
Katy rested her head against my chest and squeezed me in her arms. "He knew."
"I didn't want him to go back. I told him every time I saw him. I don't know why he re-upped. I don't know what made him do it." I looked for last night's moon. The sky had clouded up. It felt like rain again. "I begged him. I did everything but get on my knees. Man, I have to see Pauly."
"Do you need me to stop somewhere? Do you want something to drink?" She took my hand.
"No. Thank you."
She kissed me. A different kiss than the one I took last night.
I lead her around the front of the car, its four-ways clicking. The light threw our shadows way out on the road ahead of us. I helped her in, and shut the door for her.
I wiped my eyes as I came around. Some kind of resolve welled up in me, and for a second I had myself convinced it wasn't true. It couldn't be true. I sat down and clicked my seatbelt. My phone had fallen on the floor by my feet. Katy pulled onto the highway, turning her four-ways off and gently accelerated around a bend. I wiped my phone's screen off. I had more messages.
I showed her. "Do I even need to hear anything else?"
"Yeah, you need to check the rest. See if Pauly called you back." She bit her mitten and pulled it off with her teeth. She dropped it into the center console, and went to work on the other one.
Next unheard message, sent Friday at three thirty-five PM.
"Where the fuck are you?" Pauly screamed into the phone. He was drunk. "Stevie asked about you, his mom—everybody did. I spent all fucking night telling everybody I didn't know where the fuck you were. You'd better be fucking dead."
Next unheard message, sent Friday at four forty-five PM.
It was Dani again. I deleted it.
Next unheard message, sent Saturday at seven seventeen AM.
"They're burying him this morning. Call me if you want a ride."
Next unheard message, sent Saturday at eleven fifty-five PM.
"Preston Black, this is Jennifer Kaminski, from Ruby Memorial. I'm calling from the emergency room about Paul Pallini. He has you listed as his emergency contact. I'm sorry to tell you there's been an accident. Please call us as this is urgent."
End of unheard messages. Check skipped messages.
"Katy," I said, "Could you take me up to Ruby? Pauly was in an accident."
We stood in the hallway. The TV glowed softly in his room. Nobody ever looked good in a hospital, patient or visitor. I said to Katy, "If you want to go you don't have to stay. I know you have class tomorrow."
"I'll do whatever you want. If you want me to stay I can wait down by the nurse's station." She pointed her little finger down the hall.
"That means a lot to me. I don't know how long I'll be or how it's going to go. Maybe I don't want you to know how white trash I really am." Maybe I said 'white trash' to represent the sick, ugly way I felt inside. I didn't mean it.
"Preston, you're generous and you have no idea how talented you are. I've been waiting for you, you know that?" She wrapped her fingers around mine.
I held her and stared down the long, bright corridor.
Katy looked at me. She said, "This weekend was nice. Maybe you'll want to go back up next week?"
"Friday night's my show."
"I know," she said, almost interrupting, "I mean after. We can leave right after. Maybe Jamie's right. Getting you out of town is better."
"Why would Jamie say that?" I asked.
Katie shrugged.
Next weekend was a long way off. I didn't know what would happen tomorrow. I still wasn't a hundred percent about tonight. "Do you want to get together sometime to play a little? Maybe grab a bite to eat or coffee or something?"
She seemed to relax a little when I committed to getting together again. "Sure."
I thought about Stu. And Pauly. My old life gone like that. I needed somebody to save me. "I have a few lessons tomorrow. Text me after class."
I held her, and kissed her cheek and forehead. She laid her head on my chest. I stroked her earlobe, then a line down to her collarbone with my fingertips, the tiny hairs on her neck were just like dandelion seeds blown by a July breeze. "Want me to walk you to your car?"
"No," she said earnestly. "Your brother needs you. Get in there and see him." She zipped up her coat and pulled her mittens on. "I'll see you tomorrow, Preston Black."
"I'll see you tomorrow, Katy Stefanic."
She closed her eyes for one last kiss. I gave her the CD of the songs I recorded with Jamie, then watched her walk to the elevator. When it arrived on the floor, but before the doors opened, she turned around. She smiled, perhaps a little surprised to see me still standing there.
I watched her get in and disappear before going into the room. Gray and blue TV light flickered into the hallway. The keyboard intro to "Baba O'Riley" buzzed faintly over ambient hospital noise. I knocked on the door jamb and stood there. "Pauly?"
I waited.
"Here." He raised his hand.
The blinds were up. The football field took up most of the view. The big scoreboard waited patiently for September. Some of the apartments on the hill still had Christmas lights twinkling in their windows and wrapped around their balconies. I looked for the Coliseum, but it sat too far to the right. The music came from the TV, Roger Daltrey strutted across the stage. "Isle of Wight?"
He didn't reply.
I had a hard time looking at him. Low light from the dim fluorescent bulb over his bed let me see how beaten and bruised he was. He had a black eye and his arm hung in a sling. I pushed a chair over to the bed and sat down. "Was mom here?"
He just stared at me for a really long time. I couldn't tell if he was giving me the silent treatment or putting something together. Then his eyes got wet. Tears ran along his nose. He raised his good hand to wipe them away. "A few months ago he asked me what he should do, man. What the fuck could I tell him, huh? I said we needed to start thinking about what came next."
His shoulders shook, and I could see he tried to keep them as still as possible. He clutched his ribs and took a few deep breaths. A nurse came in with no introduction or regard for Pauly's emotions or our conversation. She set a small paper cup with several pills in it on the tray by Pauly's bed. With his good arm he put the cup to his mouth and swallowed all the pills at once. She gave him a small cup of water. She asked, "Are you family?"
Pauly spoke up. "He's my brother."
She jammed a thermometer into his ear without warning him i
t was coming. "Do you want him to take you to your meeting? You have about ten minutes?"
"He'll take me."
"Very good," she said as she checked his temperature. "Somebody will be back to help you into your chair."
"She's a delight," I said with a whimper of a laugh.
He went back to staring out the window.
"Pauly, whatever you need, let me know. I'll do whatever. I didn't come down here to judge you. Shit happens. You know I've done dumber shit than this, same as you. Some of it we got nabbed for, some of it we got away with. You have to forgive yourself. You didn't do anything wrong. I'll be more supportive. I thought I was telling you what you wanted to hear. I'm really sorry, man."
"I almost had ninety days put together. My sponsor didn't think I could do it. He said I needed to get serious about getting sober... He said I needed to find a new sponsor."
"You know I don't think you're an alcoholic anyway. Everybody drinks. A lot of people fall off the wagon."
He cried. I grabbed his good hand and laid my head down on his arm.
After a few minutes he sniffed and tried to compose himself. "I left the cemetery... It was raining. All those God Hates Fags people were there and I got so fucking mad. If I had a gun I swear I would've blown somebody apart. I even went to a meeting and went to lunch with my sponsor. He said I needed to remember what was good about Stu, and when he left I fought to remember Stu. Like, I couldn't see his face, so I went out to Squares to see if I could remember what it felt like playing there even though I knew Scott meant something totally different. Being in that room, I could feel Stu, man. I'm telling you I could feel him. Well, Casey asked if I wanted a drink. I told her to give me a Sprite. Then she asked if I was okay and before I knew it I was crying and drinking. Casey cut me off and said she'd called a cab. But I didn't want that humiliation on top of everything else, so I split."
He put his hand over his eyes. "You know that big curve coming in past the waterslide? I almost took out the Kwik Mart. This little silver car came right at me. I swerved and hit two parked cars. Thank God and Mary and Jesus and all the saints nobody was in the lot because I would've killed them."