Winter Wake

by Rick Hautala

  “For Christ’s sake,” Julia said, coming up behind him and staring in utter disbelief at the mess. “What the hell happened?”

  “I told you to stay in the car,” John said. Without another word, he went to the garage, grabbed an ax — the one he had used to break down his father’s bedroom door — and entered the house. Gripping the ax like a baseball bat in both hands, he stepped gingerly over the wreckage and moved into the living room. Julia and Bri followed a few steps behind him.

  “Who would have done this?” Bri asked, her voice hushed because she was afraid the culprit might still be in the house.

  John shushed her and then gasped when he saw what had been done to the living room. The Christmas tree was knocked over, and all about it were smashed ornaments and lights. The couch and all the chairs and tables were overturned. Magazines and books had been torn open; pages had been ripped out and strewn everywhere. The rugs and carpet were twisted and pulled out of place, lying about in bunches. All the pictures and photographs had been knocked off the walls and lay on the floor in piles of shattered glass and wood frames.

  “I can’t believe this,” Julia said as she bent to pick up one of her favorite tree ornaments — an angel who had seemingly had surgery to remove her wings. The sight of it made her stomach churn.

  “Someone knew we weren’t going to be home today and took the opportunity to trash us,” John said. He slapped the ax head in the palm of his hand, making a wet smacking sound. “I guarantee you upstairs is just as bad.”

  “Who’d do something like this?” Bri asked, her voice whining up the scale. She had never experienced crime directly before, and it terrified her. She felt as if she were in a dream, and if she could wake up, everything would return to normal.

  Frank’s bedroom, the downstairs bathroom, the dining room, closets, and all the rooms upstairs looked the same … as if a tornado had ripped through the house, pulling out and overturning everything in its path.

  “You think robbers?” Julia asked, but when they checked, they were relieved to find none of their valuables missing. It was going to take days to clean up this mess and get everything that wasn’t broken back into place.

  “We have to call the cops,” she said once it was obvious whoever had done this had come and gone.

  “And tell them what?”

  Assured that she safe for the time being, Bri went to her bedroom and started cleaning up the mess there. Tears streamed down her face when she saw so many of hr treasures broken and thrown about.

  In their bedroom, John struggled to get his bureau upright.

  “I’m not so sure … I mean, why get them involved?”

  He braced his feet and pushed the bureau back into place against the wall. Then he knelt down and began resorting the clothes and putting them back into the drawers.

  “Why get them involved? … Because this is a serious threat … Whoever did this might come back and … and try to hurt us.”

  “This was planned,” John said.

  “They waited until they knew we weren’t home.” She went to the window and, pulling back the curtain, looked outside. “They could be watching us right now.”

  Covering her mouth with her hand, she went to the bed and sat down on the bare mattress, staring down at the twisted pile of sheets and blankets on the floor by the closet door.

  “Other than a few things broken, nothing’s been taken,” John said with a measure of calm in his voice. “You ask me, this is one more reason to move the hell back to Vermont.”

  “Come on, John. We can’t just —”

  “Look!” He indicated the mess with a side sweep of his arms. “This isn’t exactly saying ‘welcome home.’”

  “I can’t believe someone would … that anyone would do something like this while we’re at your father’s funeral, for God’s sake. Why?”

  John had his hand to his mouth and started nibbling on the knuckle of his forefinger so he wouldn’t say what he was thinking, but finally there was no way he could keep it to himself.

  “I’ve got a pretty good idea who did it,” he said, his voice a low, animal growl.

  Julia looked at him, her eyes wide ovals of fear.

  “You think it has something to do with the condo project?” she said. “Someone’s really pissed off about it?”

  John shook his head no and looked at her with a cold, intense expression.

  “Nope,” he said. He swallowed hard before continuing, “I think it was Randy.”

  Julia looked at him dumbfounded. Then a smile crept across her face.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Not at all,” John said. “I think good old Randy might have had a whole lot to do with it.”

  “Jesus, John. You’re being ridiculous. He was at your father’s funeral this morning. How could he have —”

  “Did you see when he and Ellie got there?” John said sharply. “I sure didn’t. For all we know, he might have come in at the last minute, slipped into the back so he’d have an alibi.”

  “You and Randy were best friends, for God’s sake! Why would he do this?”

  Julia stared at her husband, wondering how he could even suggest something like that, but John’s only thought was, Hell, I can think of plenty of good reasons.

  But that wasn’t what he said. He slowly walked the length of the room, his hands clasped behind his head as he surveyed the damage.

  “I’ve told you this a hundred times already, but apparently it hasn’t sunk in yet. Randy and I were friends … in high school. Not anymore. I never saw him or talked to him or written to him until we moved back. And I think he’s always secretly envied me, that I got away.”

  “He’s happy enough with his life,” Julia said. She felt a twinge of guilt, remembering that day Ellie had revealed to her how she had trapped Randy by getting pregnant. She also wondered a bit guiltily if that wasn’t what she had done to John … if, in fact, she was pregnant now.

  “He was always smarter than me,” John continued. “National Honor Society … star captain and pitcher for the baseball team … all of that stuff. And I was always runner-up. But I’m the one who got out. Maybe my father pushed me too hard, but I went to Orono, got my engineering degree, and didn’t have to stay on this fucking island.”

  “I don’t think Randy hates his life, if that’s what you mean.” Julia was thinking about the day she and John had gone out lobstering with him. “I certainly don’t think he holds you responsible for anything that may have gone wrong in his life — not enough to do … this.”

  John snorted and said, “Yeah, right.”

  He cautiously eyed Julia, trying to see if she would let on that there was something between her and Randy that she wasn’t telling him.

  “Come on, John,” she said. “Whoever did this was — well, I certainly don’t think you can blame Randy. He wouldn’t be crazy enough ... or stupid enough.”

  “You don’t know Randy,” John said softly.

  “And you don’t, either,” she snapped.

  “What? You’re saying you do?” John narrowed his gaze at her.

  Casting her glance downward, Julia shrugged.

  “I’ve spent some time talking with Ellie, and we got together with them those couple of times. I think I’d be able to recognize it if he was a psycho.”

  “Maybe he hides it well,” John snapped. “People aren’t always what they appear to be, you know. Everybody’s got their secrets.” His mind added —

  Ain’t that the goddamned truth!

  “Well, sitting around trying to pin the blame on Randy or whoever isn’t going to get this mess cleaned up,” Julia said. Even though her stomach was a raging storm of acid, she stood up and began sorting through the pile of clothes that had been strewn on the floor.

  “So …” she said as she worked. “You’re not gonna call the cops?”

  “No need,” John said as he joined her. They worked together silently for a while before he cleared his throat and said, “
One thing, though —”

  “Yeah?”

  “Does this make you want to move?”

  Julia considered for a moment but then shook her head.

  “No … but I want you to promise me something.”

  “Sure. What?”

  “That you’ll got to the hardware store and buy dead-bolt locks for the front and back doors. Your father always said it wasn’t necessary, but —” She glanced around at the mess in their bedroom —”I’d say they’d be a good idea now.”

  “Sure thing,” John said.

  III

  By the Wednesday after the funeral, the family was getting back into the groove of normal living. Although Barry told John he could have the week off — and more, if necessary — he decided that getting back to work, even if it meant working on the Surfside Condo Project, was best for him. Bri was on school vacation, and she had gotten up and left to spend the day at Kristin’s by the time Julia — who was still feeling nauseous and was convinced that she had one hell of a case of morning sickness — came downstairs and joined John in the kitchen. He was rinsing his plate off at the sink and staring blankly out the window. She poured a cup of coffee and put a slice of bread into the toaster.

  “I can’t get used to him not being here,” Julia said. “I turn around, and I totally expect to see him there in his wheelchair.”

  She had a cup of coffee in front of her, but she didn’t touch it. Every few seconds, it seemed as though some sound — a faint rustling … a dull, metallic clank … a creaking floorboard — echoed in the hallway from Frank’s empty room. She looked around, expecting to see Frank rolling his wheelchair into the kitchen.

  John had nothing to say as he pulled on his heavy winter coat and gloves, and went out to start the car so it would warm up before he left for work. When he came back into the house, he stood for a moment, leaning against the counter and looking silently at Julia. He picked up the cup of coffee he had left there and gulped down what was left.

  “That’s what my dad said the morning after my mother’s funeral,” he said, his voice hushed as he stared vacantly at the ceiling and thought that was probably what everyone who lost a family member said for weeks after the funeral.

  “What?” Julia shook her head and looked at him, snapped out of her reverie.

  “That he couldn’t get used to her not being here … that he kept thinking he’d see or hear her.”

  Julia almost said something about how empty she had felt when her parents died, but she could only make a little grunting sound. The toast popped, and she spread butter on it, but the first bite had hit her stomach like hot metal.

  “If I don’t get a move on, I’m going to be stuck in traffic,” he said. He rinsed his cup out under the faucet and put it on the sideboard, grabbed his briefcase from beside the door, came over and gave Julia a kiss, and then was out the door. The glass panes rattled as he swung the door shut behind him, and Julia sat there at the table, listening as the car pulled out of the driveway and staring at her uneaten piece of toast.

  “All alone,” she whispered to herself as her eyes skimmed across the kitchen floor. Bri’s gone over to her friend’s house … John’s off to work … and Frank … Frank’s gone for good …

  So it’s just you and your thoughts, kiddo!

  The dishes John and Bri had used this morning were already rinsed and stacked. Everything was put away. As Julia inventoried what didn’t need to be done in the kitchen, she was suddenly swept up by a feeling of absolute uselessness. It didn’t take long for her to realize how much of her day had depended on having Frank around for company ... not that she had done all that much in the way of taking care of him — Judy Bartlett, the nurse, had done most or that — but she realized now how she had taken for granted Frank’s being there so she had someone to talk to and do things for. Without him and the rest of her family at home, the house was a vast, hollow shell

  When she wasn’t gazing down the hallway toward Frank’s bedroom — John still hadn’t replaced the broken door — she found herself sitting with her elbows on the table, her face cradled in her hands as she stared down at her coffee cup. She picked up the cup and took a sip, but it gone cold. Wrinkling her nose, she got up and dumped it out in the sink, but before she could sit back down, a jolt of pain hit her so hard it was like a blue flame shooting behind her eyes. Her stomach squeezed. Groaning, she leaned over the sink, positive that her single bite of toast was on its way up.

  Sweat broke out across her forehead as she waited.

  She considered shoving her finger down her throat to speed things along —

  Hurry up and get it over with!

  — but she couldn’t bring herself to do that. The pain became spiraling waves of nausea.

  “Jesus H.,” she whispered as she bent down until her eyes were level with the faucet. “If this is how it’s going to be for nine months, I don’t want a baby.”

  She fumbled for the cold-water tap, turned it on, filled her cupped hands, and splashed her face several times. Sputtering, she straightened up and was reaching for a paper towel to dry her face when the phone rang. She jumped and spun around, and her hand knocked the pile of clean dishes over into the sink. Something broke, but she didn’t see what it was as she lurched across the floor to the phone.

  “Yeah — ?” she said.

  “Julia?” It was Ellie Chadwick’s voice. “Is this a bad time to call?”

  Julia licked her lips, took a breath, and said, “No … not at all.” She couldn’t believe how good it was to hear another human voice.

  “I can call back later if you’d like,” Ellie said.

  “No ... no,” Julia replied. “I was — ahh, washing my hair in the sink, and the phone surprised me. Oh, I have to tell you —” Holding the receiver to her ear with her shoulder, she went back to the sink and looked down at the two broken plates. “I’m sorry, but I dropped your casserole dish, and it totally shattered.”

  The lie tasted like the sourness bubbling in her stomach, but she was silently grateful for the opportunity to explain why Ellie wasn’t going to be getting her lasagna dish back.

  “Oh, don’t worry about that old thing,” Ellie said. “As long as you enjoyed the lasagna.”

  “Umm … we sure did” Julia said, wincing even more at the second lie. “We had it last night. You’ll have to tell me what you used for spices. It had a unique flavor.”

  “Nothing special,” Ellie said.

  “How are you guys doing?” Ellie asked. “I haven’t been by to see you ‘cause … well … you know …”

  Her words trailed off, but Julia filled in the rest of the sentence for her —

  Because Randy told me what a jerk John acted like when he brought the lasagna over.

  “Oh, you know — it’s tough adjusting to it all,” Julie said. “I think Bri’s taking it the hardest.”

  She thought about the morning of the funeral … when John flung the dish of lasagna against the kitchen wail. He had cleaned it up, but even after he apologized and said he felt like such an ass, and she told him to forget about it, she knew that incident was going to fester in her mind and become one of those things she would hold against him for a long time to come.

  “Aww, that sucks,” Ellie said. After a pause, she added, “Are you sure you’re doing all right? You sound kind of … funny.”

  “Funny? No, I’m fine … honest. It’s just … well, today’s the first day John’s gone back to work, and it’s pretty lonely around here.”

  “You want me to come over? If you want me to, I will.”

  For a second or two, Julia considered saying, Yes! Of course, but she realized, if she got sick to her stomach while Ellie was here, she would have to tell her that she thought she was pregnant —

  No … I’m positive

  Because John had been so wound up lately, she hadn’t even hinted at it to him other than what she had said the night it had happened.

  “That did it … I know it. Women have a
way of knowing.”

  Barely aware she was still on the phone with Ellie, she thought, Christmas Eve … We made love on the couch a couple of hours before Frank died.

  She entertained the notion that, if there is such a thing as a soul, Frank’s soul, so recently freed from his body, had somehow transferred to her womb and was now growing with the embryo inside her. Carrying that idea further, she wondered if the universe might not be chock full of disembodied souls drifting around in limbo … souls waiting to be born.

  Whatever she thought, one thing was certain — once she was positive she was pregnant and it was time to let people know, John would be the first person she’d tell.

  “No, I — I’ve got some stuff I have to do … some errands,” Julia said, cringing at her third lie of the morning. A sour bubble rose in her throat and made her burp. She covered the receiver with her hand, hoping Ellie hadn’t heard.

  “I’m just checking,” Ellie said. “Don’t hesitate to call if you want company, ‘kay?”

  “For sure,” she said. “Maybe I’ll drop by later this afternoon.”

  She cut herself off quickly as she burped again, and the sour taste flooded her mouth. Panic filled her.

  Oh, Christ! … Here it comes!

  “Any time,” Ellie said, but Julia barely heard her.

  Saying a sharp “good-bye,” she practically threw the receiver onto the hook as she spun around and raced back to the kitchen sink. With three hard convulsive gags, her bite of toast and a glob of thick, yellow mucus shot from her mouth, covering the broken dishes in the kitchen sink.

  IV

  “Has anyone been in my office?” John asked, walking up to the knot of people gathered around the coffee urn in the conference room. Barry along with everyone else shrugged and looked at the others questioningly.