Summer Shadows

by Killarney Traynor

  She caught herself with start. Easy. Don’t want to give him or John Irwin Junior the wrong idea.

  Robert said, in a tone of polite and friendly interest, “Oh really? That’s great.”

  John Irwin Junior explained, “She’s just moved in today and she was asking about what kind of neighborhood she was living in. Bet you’re glad to know that you live right next door to a cop, aren’t you, ma’am?”

  “Um, yes,” said Julia.

  Robert smiled sympathetically.

  “Oh, stupid me,” said John Irwin Junior. “Forgot to introduce you. This is Mrs…” He stopped, realizing that he had no idea who Julia was. He looked the credit card in his hand.

  Julia extended her hand with a quick smile. “Julia Lamontaigne and this is my nephew, Jack Budd.”

  The officer’s smile warmed as he shook her hand. “Robert Wilde,” he said. “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Lamontaigne. Are you just here for the summer or is this a permanent move?”

  “Just for the summer,” she replied. “We’re doing a little work on the house and taking time out to just relax. I’ve heard that Webster Lake is one of the area’s greatest unsung natural wonders.”

  “Oh, it is,” John assured her. “It’s got great beaches and boating. Fish and game has been stocking it with rainbow and brown trout for the season, if you’re interested in little fishing.”

  “I’m not really an outdoors person,” Julia admitted. “I don’t think I’ve ever been fishing.”

  “Well, you’ve got two of the best fishermen in the county standing right in front of you, if you’re ever looking to start,” he said proudly.

  Wilde grinned and shifted his stance.

  Julia said, “Thank you very much for the offer, but I think we’re going to be a bit too busy with all the housework to have much time…”

  Jack had been staring at Officer Wilde with a mixture of awe and hero-worship, and it took him until now to collect himself enough to ask the question that was clearly uppermost on his mind. Pointing to Wilde’s badge, he asked, “Are you a policeman?”

  Officer Wilde looked to his badge as if for confirmation, and then grinned. “Yes, I am.”

  “One of Franklin’s finest,” John assured him.

  Officer Wilde didn’t respond to the praise. “And who are you?” he asked.

  Jack was awed by this confirmation of his suspicions. “I’m Jack,” he said.

  “Are you enjoying your summer, Jack?”

  This was too much. Jack turned and buried his head in Julia’s shirt, forcing her to make some hasty adjustments to her apparel.

  “It’s been a long day,” she said, putting a hand on his back. “I’ve been an absolute slave driver, haven’t I, Jack?”

  He nodded, shook his head, and finally gave up trying to answer and just made a sound that was something between a cry and a yelp. Julia decided that it was time to retreat before he succumbed to exhaustion. She thanked John for his son’s card, and took her cart and the still-huddled Jack to the entrance, calling for Ron and Dana as she went.

  They met her outside at the van. Dana had her hands full of paint cards and color-scheme pamphlets. While Julia struggled to get Jack into his car seat, she happily chattered about a princess theme that she particularly liked.

  Jack’s face grew more and more flushed. It was obvious that he had reached the end of his tether, and all Julia wanted was to get him in the car and back to the house before he exploded. Ron put his brochures on his seat and tried to help, but his efforts only made Jack complain all the louder.

  Amid all the commotion, Office Wilde came out of the store. Jack immediately went still, Dana fell silent, and even Ron paused.

  Wilde seemed unaware of his effect on them. He nodded at Julia as he got into his car.

  Julia returned the gesture, and took advantage of Jack’s fascination to buckle him down.

  Ron return the cart to the store as Julia got into the van to start the air conditioning.

  Dana buckled herself in. “Who was that, Aunt Julia?”

  “That was Officer Wilde,” Julia said, lowering the windows as she spoke. She was amazed at the van’s ability to absorb heat in such a short span of time. Wearily, she thought about the cleaning ahead of them, and then wondered if the microwave was working. “He lives next door to us.”

  “A cop? Really? Do you know him?”

  “We said hi.”

  “Oh.”

  Julia turned on the car.

  Dana said, “I’ve changed my mind about the orange walls.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. I want green and purple instead with princess stickers on them. I’ve got the picture right here. It’s so pretty that I’m sure all the house buyers will want it. Here you go.”

  She handed over a pamphlet for a very girly bedroom, complete with purple walls, green wainscoting, pink trim, matching furniture, and a lace canopy over the bed. It was easy to see why Dana had changed her mind.

  Julia caught a glimpse of Dana’s anxious face watching her in the rear view mirror. She smiled at her and handed the pamphlet back.

  “I think they would love it,” she said.

  The little girl settled back to stare at the photo with delighted anticipation. Ron got back into the car, and they started out for home.

  7

  When they got back to the house, Julia sent the children to open all of the downstairs windows, while she set up the three fans she had found in the storage room. She decided that until the bedrooms got a thorough cleaning, everyone would camp out in the living room. The kids did the cleaning there while she started on the kitchen.

  When the living room was in decent shape, and the kids thoroughly worn out, she had Ron set up the TV with the DVD player while she and Dana set up the sleeping bags in the living room. Dana was charmed by the idea of sleeping in sleeping bags inside the house. Jack was thrilled and wanted a fire, too.

  Julia was relieved by their enthusiasm.

  They unrolled sleeping bags, found their sleepwear, microwaved TV dinners, and put a favorite movie in the DVD player. After sponge baths in the kitchen sink, the three Budds ate their dinner by TV light.

  Julia, plagued by thoughts of lice and cockroaches, continued to clean. She washed out the old refrigerator, then started on the kitchen cabinets. Several of the cabinets were barely hanging onto the walls by two or three rusting screws. A few others had water damage, their bottoms soft to the touch.

  Julia found the tool box and took down the cabinets that seemed ready to fall. She put them outside by the shed, intending to break them down and dispose of them later. On her last trip to the shed, she stopped for a moment and breathed in the night air.

  It was much quieter than Springfield, with a silence as deep as though sound were fighting against a vacuum. The stars were sharp points of light in the dark navy dome of the sky. Lights shone from the windows of the surrounding houses, and she could just make out the droning, distant sounds of a variety of TV programs. She heard a door open and close, and someone pacing on their front porch.

  Julia sat on the side-door steps. A few mosquitoes hovered around her legs and arms, but she was too tired to pay attention to them. The warmth of the night air, the good ache in her tired arms, the hunger in the pit of her stomach, and the ceaseless roaming of her mind over the events of the past day made her recline against the door, exhausted. She tried to process everything: the early morning wakeup, the final lock-up of the Springfield house, the long drive, the house, the hardware store, the neighborhood – all came back to be examined, judged, and sorted.

  When they had gotten back to the house, Dana looked to see if the patrol car was in any of the neighbors’ driveways, but it wasn’t. The kids were hoping to view some police action, figuring that if a cop lived next door, adventure and danger couldn’t be far away. Julia had the o
pposite impression: if one of her neighbors was a policeman, there had to be a decreased chance that any of her other neighbors were mass murderers or drug dealers.

  Julia laughed at herself. She used to snicker at young parents who panicked at every minor detail, and who imagined all sorts of horrid and far-fetched scenarios - and here she was, doing the same thing.

  She decided that she would call John Irwin III, the lawn care guy, tomorrow. With everything they had to do for the house, and her conscience bothering her about putting the kids to work on their school vacation, she really didn’t relish the idea of pushing a rusty old machine through swarms of ticks. Much better to let the professionals handle it.

  Her mind went back to the list of things that needed doing. It was already lengthy and she hadn’t even looked at the bathroom or the basement. It was likely to get even longer: the kitchen cabinets had been a surprise.

  She thought about the kids and began to worry again, wondering how she could do everything that needed doing in the house and still have time to make it a nice summer for them. They needed to relax and have fun, not be working all day, breathing in fumes and dodging falling cabinets. Maybe she should have listened to the hesitation in her parents’ voices when she had outlined her plan a week ago. She could have just swallowed the cost, taken out a loan, and hired professionals. Maybe this was nothing but a huge mistake. The children would be miserable, or worse - something might happen to one of them. Then they would be taken away and put in foster care, or sent to live with the Budds, and she’d be relegated to seeing them only on the holidays that she was invited to.

  Tears sprang to her eyes at the thought. She was about to give way to them when the door opened from behind her and she fell through the doorway.

  She found herself looking up at Dana, who jumped and gave a little scream before recovering.

  “Jack fell asleep in his plate,” she explained. “He’s got mashed potatoes all over his face. Ron’s trying to wake him up.”

  “No, don’t wake him up,” Julia said, struggling to get to her feet. “Hang on a second, I’m coming.”

  Dana watched her with concern. When Julia finally was upright, she asked, “Are we going to Mass tomorrow?”

  “Mass?”

  “Tomorrow’s Sunday.”

  She could hear the weariness in Dana’s voice and put a reassuring hand on her head. “We’ll see. I don’t want to tire Jack out too much.”

  Dana looked relieved and turned to go back into the living room. “Good, cause I don’t know where my dresses are.”

  Julia learned early that Dana could not and would not go to church without wearing one of her fancy, lacy dresses. Julia didn’t know why, but it was a fact, and an insurmountable one.

  “We’ll go next week,” Julia said. “That’ll give me time to find a church and you time to find your dresses.”

  Dana was impressed by this logic.

  Julia found Jack so soundly asleep that she was able to retrieve him from his plate, clean his face, change his pajamas, and put him into his sleeping bag without waking him. The older two finished the movie while Julia tossed out the paper plates and washed their cups.

  By the time the credits finally rolled, Dana was asleep. Ron’s face was white with exhaustion as he stumbled about brushing his teeth. Julia tucked them both into their sleeping bags, then placed a fan on one side of the room and opened the window at the other, hoping to create a breeze.

  With the house quiet, Julia took a flashlight and checked the rooms upstairs and the basement. She set the door alarms and the alarm clock, made her own dinner, and sat down to eat it in front of the TV. She managed to finish her meal before nodding off herself, mid-program.

  She woke up several hours later to find the TV still on, and Jack and Yellow Teddy curled up in a tight little ball next to her.

  8

  Ron awoke with a start, having no idea where he was. He fought a sudden panic as he wiped his eyes. He wasn’t in bed – the covers were plastic-coated, and there was a crunching sound when he moved. Sweat plastered his pajama shirt to his back and his hair was damp and sticky. His blanket was up over his head and he could hear a sort of dull roar coming from nearby.

  Someone stirred next to him and Dana muttered. Ron forced himself into a sitting position and shook his head. Reality solidified, and the roaring became the sound of a fan at one end of the room. At the other end, light poured through a window, open so that he could hear a passing car honking its horn. Beyond the sound of the fan, he heard the clinking of dishes and someone humming. The scent of cinnamon and coffee mingled with the crisp smell of the grass, and the maudlin smell of slept-in covers.

  He wasn’t home, and Dad hadn’t taken them on a trip. He was in a dingy living room with Dana after moving to a little cottage for the summer. The humming woman wasn’t his mother, it was Aunt Julia. Mom and Dad weren’t there.

  He heard a squeal, and Aunt Julia said, “Shhh, Jack. You don’t want to wake Ron and Dana, do you?”

  “Are we going to play today?” asked Jack.

  “Sure, but first we have to do some work. Eat your bun and don’t rub your fingers in your hair, okay?”

  Ron looked at his watch. To his dismay, it was nine o’clock. He had slept well past his alarm time of six-thirty, and it was Sunday, when they always went to Mass. They were going to be late. Aunt Julia was already up, and probably made breakfast. Ron prided himself on breakfast – it was one of the many responsibilities that he had taken off of Aunt Julia’s shoulders, and he hadn’t missed a one since his parents died.

  Until today, that is, he thought. It sounded like Aunt Julia and Jack were already eating. Perhaps he could still make it for himself and Dana.

  He began to scramble out of the tangle of sleeping bags, giving Dana a shove.

  “Wake up, Dana,” he said.

  She grimaced and turned away. He wriggled his way out of the sleeping bag and stood up in the middle of the living room.

  There was a nice breeze blowing in through the open windows. In the morning light, the peeling wallpaper was more stained than he remembered. Aunt Julia’s sleeping bag was rolled up and neatly tied in front of the couch, with Jack’s Yellow Teddy sitting jauntily on top. In a nearby basket, their clothes from yesterday sat in a folded stack with their shoes lined up in front. Ron collected his clothes and shoes and a dry towel, and gave his sister a shake.

  “Dana,” he said sharply. “Time to get up.”

  She moaned softly. He was about to give her another shake when he noticed Aunt Julia in the doorway. She was dressed in jeans and an old t-shirt with her hair pulled up tightly into a bun. In one hand she held an unfamiliar mug of hot tea. She’d been awake for hours.

  A wave of guilt hit Ron.

  You’re the man of the house while I’m gone, Ron. Take care of everything, will you? I’m depending on you.

  “Oh, you’re up.”

  Julia’s face showed no sign of disappointment. In fact, she seemed happy to see him.

  “Did you sleep well?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I’ll be dressed in a minute. Dana’s waking up now. I’ll shake her again.”

  To his surprise, Julia shook her head. “No, don’t wake her. I wanted you all to sleep in this morning, and it’s only nine. Come on – I just pulled some cinnamon buns out of the oven. You’d better eat them while they’re hot.” She saw the clothes in his hands and smiled. “You can get dressed after breakfast this morning.”

  “Cinnamon buns?” His mouth watered at the thought. He hadn’t had cinnamon buns in ages. Mom was always big on whole grains, and all-natural sugar substitutes in the morning.

  “Yep. Fresh from the can.” Julia’s eyes danced as she watched his delighted reaction.

  He looked around. “I don’t know where my robe is.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about the robe. It’s ju
st us here. Come on. I’m just about to put the frosting on – they taste best when they’re hot.”

  She turned and went back into the kitchen. Ron watched her go with some astonishment. Eat breakfast… in his pajamas? At nine in the morning? Dad would have pitched a fit and Mom would have been just as bad. The rule in the Budd house was no meals without first having brushed your teeth, washed your face or taken a shower, and dressed.

  The buttery cinnamon smell intensified, and his mouth watered as his stomach grumbled. Aunt Julia was right about one thing: cinnamon buns were best when they were fresh.

  The kitchen was small, with wrap-around counters, peeling linoleum, and a recessed area for the oven. There were gaps showing raw, yellowing paint on the wall where Julia had removed some of the sagging old cabinets. On the shelves were some grocery supplies, and paper and plastic dishes. The electric kettle steamed on the counter beside a stack of unfamiliar china and silverware. The kitchen smelled of butter, cinnamon, and pine-sol. Ron thought that Aunt Julia must have been up and at work early.

  At a tiny metal folding table in the middle of the room, Jack sat in a freshly scrubbed chair on a stack of books, half-way through his cinnamon bun, hard boiled eggs, and orange juice. He looked up and smiled a sticky grin as Ron lowered himself into one of the matching chairs, which he recognized from the dining room. The table was old, and so small that Jack’s breakfast things took up half of it. Cramped though it was, it was already set for two more people.

  Julia frosted three fresh cinnamon buns at the oven. On the counter, her iPod played softly. The kitchen window and the side door were open, letting in a rush of warm, summer-scented air.

  Ron sat at the table, feeling undressed and a little revolted by Jack’s careless dissection of his cinnamon bun. He was distracted enough that he was startled when he heard Julia speak.

  “You can pour yourself some orange juice, Ron. I’ll have these done in a second.”

  Dana stumbled through the doorway, rubbing her eyes. Her brunette hair was an enormous, tousled mess, and her face was creased from a deep sleep. She blinked and stared at the unusual sight of both of her brothers at the table, dressed in their pajamas. Then she sniffed, and her eyes grew wide when she saw the cinnamon buns.