The Trouble on Highway One

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The Trouble on Highway One Page 6

by Anne McClane

Momma had gotten a new job, working at the grain factory on the river. She liked it better than her old work, and her pay was really good, but she still complained that “her back was surely gonna break soon.” And Birdie was doing really well in school. Her guidance counselor, Mr. Coyner, was after her to start applying to colleges. Mr. Coyner was from up north.

  She hadn’t said anything to Momma about that. She hadn’t said anything to anybody about that. But she wanted to tell Ronnie.

  Birdie was expecting him any minute now. Momma wouldn’t be home until five thirty, and she had told Birdie one hundred times that she needed to come home straight from school, tidy the living room, start dinner, and be ready when Ronnie came home. They expected him at four o’clock.

  She had just finished browning the onions when the screen door opened. The scent of pork drippings and potent herbs wafted through the doorway.

  “Little Bird, I didn’t think it was possible, but that might just smell better than anything Momma’s ever cooked.”

  Birdie wiped her hands on her apron and smiled wide at the sound of her brother’s voice. And her eyes grew wider than her smile when she saw the little boy clasping her brother’s hand.

  Ronnie laughed. There were more wrinkles around his eyes and more gray around his temples than Birdie remembered. “Ha! I don’t think I’ve ever seen that look on your face.”

  Birdie put her hands on her hips, not pleased about the surprise. She’d had no idea Ronnie had a child. “Well, this face is a lot different than it was five years ago.” She gave her brother a quick glare, but was sure to give a smile and a wink to the child with bright eyes and a head full of coarse coils. He smiled back, but buried his face in Ronnie’s leg.

  Ronnie nudged the boy with his leg. “Cecil, say ‘hi’ to your Aunt Birdie.”

  Birdie didn’t miss a beat. She held out her hand to Cecil and said, “Hello, Sir Cecil. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Cecil offered a tentative hand, and Birdie grasped it in both of hers. She gave him a 1,000-watt smile so similar to her brother’s that Cecil had to recognize something of his daddy in it. He smiled back and lunged toward Birdie, arms wide. She scooped him up into her arms.

  She shot another death stare at Ronnie while she held Cecil. The little child couldn’t see her face.

  “Daddy said you’d be mean,” a small voice chirped as he hugged her closer.

  A big, boisterous laugh came from Ronnie. “I said no such thing, Little Man. I did say your Aunt Birdie might be a little angry with me.”

  Birdie ignored her brother and hiked the toddler up on her hip to face him. With a wide smile and laughing eyes she said, “Your daddy thinks he’s funny. Ha ha.”

  She tickled Cecil with her free hand and provoked a few well-timed giggles.

  Looking at Ronnie, she said, “Little angry, maybe. But Momma?”

  Ronnie looked sheepish.

  Birdie wagged her head. “Of course. Momma knows. Why am I the last to find out everything?”

  “It’s a long story, Bird.”

  “I ain’t going nowhere.” She set Cecil down to return to the stove.

  “Well, we’ll be here for a few days,” Ronnie said. He and Cecil sat at the kitchen table. “What’s for dinner?”

  “Pork chops.”

  “What time does Momma get home?”

  “Five thirty.”

  “What does it take to get more than a one-word answer from Bird?” He bounced Cecil on his knee.

  “Pork chops is two words,” she said, and then couldn’t suppress a laugh.

  “Sounds like they’re teaching you good in school,” Ronnie said. “You know how to spell your food.”

  “They’re teaching me well,” she answered with a wink.

  “You see that, Cecil? We need to send you to Bird’s school.”

  A thought occurred to Birdie. Is now the time to mention college? She cocked her head at her brother, then decided to save her question for later.

  Momma spent most of dinner fussing over Cecil. Birdie tried to express her displeasure over being kept in the dark about being an aunt, but Momma either didn’t hear her, or chose to ignore her. It was likely the latter, and Birdie knew better than to press her luck.

  Cecil was put to bed, and Momma had followed shortly thereafter.

  “She doesn’t look good, Bird,” Ronnie said. They sat across from each other in the den. Ronnie took up most of the new settee they had just bought. They’d had to go to New Orleans for it. Birdie couldn’t believe how much Momma paid for it. She just said, “I ain’t breaking my back for nothing,” when Birdie tried to suggest a less expensive option.

  Birdie began to worry. “Why? I know she’s tired all the time, but I think that’s just from her work.”

  “You heard her at dinner, same as me. They all say they’re working for a big, northern company, but the people running it are all the same as they’ve ever been. They’re gonna find a way to keep you down, just like they always have.”

  “Don’t you work for a big, northern company?”

  “Yeah. Up north. Run by northerners. It’s different.”

  “They don’t try to keep you down, Bubba?”

  “Oh, yeah, they still do. But there’re a lot more ways for them to get caught doing it. And the trouble’s worse for them if they get caught. Down here . . . ”

  Birdie remembered something Momma had told her. How the big boss at the factory was Mr. Savin. The Savins lived next door to the house where Momma used to clean. It was like she had switched jobs, but not employers.

  Birdie began to worry more. “Do you think I could help Momma?”

  “You already do. You take care of things here while she’s at work. You do good in school.”

  Birdie thought of Mr. Coyner. Now might be a good opportunity to tell her brother about what he said. But leaving home for college was a weighty topic.

  “No, I mean by going to work.”

  “That’s gonna come soon enough, Bird.”

  She looked at her brother and thought again. “Ronnie, they’re telling me at school that I should apply for college.”

  Ronnie looked thoughtful. “Who’s telling you that?”

  “The school counselor.”

  “What’s his name?”

  Birdie told him.

  “He’s not from around here, is he?”

  “How’d you know that?” Birdie asked.

  “Same thing I was just talking about, Bird. People from around here are going to try to keep you down, same as they ever has. Momma’s told me how good you’re doing, how much you like school. That’s good, and I hope it stays that way for a while. But keep your guard up.”

  Birdie cast her eyes downward. She was hoping her brother would encourage the thought of college. But he just seemed suspicious.

  She looked up. “Ronnie, what’s the real reason you came down here? It wasn’t to surprise me with your son.”

  A sad smile crossed Ronnie’s face. He stood up and rolled his shoulders. “Bird, things with Cecil’s momma are not easy. Never have been. I knew you’d be crazy to meet him as soon as you knew about him, and I wanted to be sure I could get him down here before that. Does that make sense?”

  Birdie tilted her head upward. “Not really.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “But it doesn’t matter. You’re forgiven.”

  He walked toward her and laid his large hand on her head. He turned back toward the settee.

  “And the reason I’m down here is to check on you and Momma. Especially Momma. I should’ve never let five years go by.”

  “You don’t need to worry about us.” Birdie stood and put her hands on her hips.

  Ronnie laughed and settled back down. “Oh, I know. But that doesn’t mean I don’t anyway.”

  10

  Sa
n Luis Obispo, California

  Current day

  Fatigue couldn’t keep Lacey’s mind from spinning. She couldn’t sleep.

  She wasn’t comfortable in the rental. She wouldn’t refer to it as home, not even in her head. It served a purpose, and the yard was somewhat lovely, but her home was on Florida Boulevard. She had no idea who her neighbors were here. She had seen a woman in her fifties tending a garden across the street, during the few times she had snuck away during a lunch break. And a lanky man in his twenties in the house next door. Only coming and going, never outside, even though his place had a porch with well-kept plants and a pristine bench. Lacey had figured his place must be a rental, too.

  She almost missed her nosy neighbor Kravitz. Almost. She wondered if Tonti was keeping him entertained, since he had no one to spy on with her house lying empty. Tonti was supposed to be looking after Lacey’s home while she was away. Lacey had meant to check in with her regularly, but that just hadn’t happened as she intended.

  She lay awake in the rental’s bed, thinking of what she had to pack for Ambrose since she was bringing him to the set today. Travel water and food bowls, food, pooper-scooper. What did Eli mean about affecting the present? What was she going to learn today?

  She tried to think of Trevor. Fun, care-free sex with Trevor. To no avail. Instead, complicated thoughts of Nathan kept rushing in where she least wanted them. It had been more than a month since she’d even heard from him. Why couldn’t she let go?

  She might have slept in ten-minute intervals.

  What is wrong with me? I normally worry a lot, yes, but something really has me worked up about the day ahead.

  On the drive into the studio, nothing felt right. Not Ambrose in the front seat of her car, not the whole idea of bringing him to work.

  Ambrose was fine. His usual calm, massive self. Why couldn’t she be more like him? Even though nothing felt right about bringing him, when she boiled it down, she was glad he would be by her side today. Maybe if he got hungry, he could eat Kandace.

  The first half of the day was busy but uneventful. She had a high volume of visits from crew members, curious to meet Ambrose. But the distraction did nothing to abate her sense of unease. She kept waiting for the shoe to drop.

  Sometime in the late afternoon, Eli appeared in front of her desk. She hadn’t seen him nor heard from him all day. She was sure his appearance was the other shoe.

  Ambrose had parked himself under the table that served as Lacey’s desk most of the day. He moved from underneath it and sat by Lacey’s side, looking at Eli expectantly.

  Wordless, Eli stared at the dog, right eye floating. He held out his hand, palm up, fingers curled. Ambrose shook his head and walked toward Eli.

  Lacey gasped. Ambrose was typically aloof with strangers. He was downright rude with Nathan. And yet, he had immediately taken to Eli.

  You should learn to take a cue from him, Lacey.

  Crap! Did I just think that, or was that Eli?

  She glared at Eli, but he either didn’t see it, or ignored it. He let Ambrose sniff his hand, then engaged in some generous petting. Still wordless. Lacey figured it would be the closest thing to affection she would ever see from Eli.

  “Are you a dog person, Eli?” Lacey asked, feeling the need to fill the silence.

  He looked at her, still patting the dog, but didn’t answer immediately.

  “I grew up with animals,” he said

  That would indicate he had a childhood, Lacey thought.

  “Not in the way most people would think of it,” he said.

  Ah! He is in my thoughts! Stop thinking!

  “I know dogs mostly as herders,” he said, “not as pets.”

  Lacey wondered if Eli had grown up on a ranch. Then realized she had no idea where Eli was from. She was about to ask, when she saw Marco eyeing Ambrose from a distance. “What do you need him for?” she asked, motioning at Ambrose.

  “Nothing,” Eli answered.

  What the hell?

  “But yesterday, when you said to bring him . . . ” she started. “Never mind.”

  Exhaustion got the better of her. She didn’t even have the energy to be angry with Eli.

  “Have you brought him outside?” Eli asked.

  “Yes.” She checked the time. “A few hours ago now.”

  “You should bring him outside again now,” he said, looking down at Ambrose.

  “He can hold his water longer than that,” she said.

  “You should bring him outside again now,” he repeated.

  “Okay . . . ” Lacey looked behind her toward Kandace’s office but she wasn’t there. She counted her blessings. She hadn’t seen her much today at all.

  When she turned around, Eli was gone. She had wanted to ask what was so important about bringing Ambrose outside, but didn’t know how to do it and not get an “Eli” answer. Now she didn’t have to worry about it.

  “Whatever,” she said. She grabbed Ambrose’s lead. “C’mon, Bro, ‘the Professor’ says you need to go outside. Hopefully Kandace won’t get up my ass about it.”

  Hans passed within earshot as soon as she said it. He smiled at her and she shrugged her shoulders, looking sheepish.

  I have got to remember my co-workers are no longer imaginary.

  At the gatehouse, Horatio seemed nervous. He was a burly but sweet security guard, who would walk Lacey to her car when she left the set after dark, which was most nights. He was not much taller than Lacey, but almost twice as wide, and Lacey always felt safe with him.

  He smiled at Lacey and Ambrose, but rubbed his palms against his legs. Sweat gathered around his collar.

  “What’s going on, Horatio?” Lacey asked.

  “It’s been pretty quiet today,” he answered. He folded his arms.

  “Yeah, for me, too,” she said. “So why do I feel so spooked?”

  He smiled at her and nodded silently. He blew out a breath. He seemed unwilling to say anything about what was bothering him.

  “You don’t need to feel spooked,” he said. “That’s why we’re here. To handle the spooky stuff.”

  “You’re a good guy, Horatio,” she said. “We’re just going to visit our spot, we’ll just be a few minutes.”

  He nodded and pressed a button, unlocking the door. A lone sycamore tree shaded a corner of the parking lot within view of the guardhouse. A small patch of grass surrounded it.

  Walking across the parking lot, Lacey noticed orange cones blocking off the parking spaces nearest the entrance.

  That’s why Horatio’s nervous, I bet. A VIP visitor. The moneyman?

  If the moneyman was visiting today, why hadn’t Kandace told her? Lacey’s unease shifted into annoyance.

  Ambrose was content to visit his outside spot, but even he seemed a bit confused by the timing of it. He ran around it, considered lifting his leg, but then seemed to think better of it.

  All right, Eli, we’re here, she thought. What for?

  She closed her eyes for an instant, letting the afternoon sun warm her eyelids. She thought of the marked spot in the parking lot, Horatio’s nervousness, and her own. The sun became a light bulb above her head.

  “Oh,” she said out loud. Ambrose looked up at her.

  It was the moneyman who was making them all nervous. Well, her and Horatio, at least. Eli must have wanted her to make the connection herself.

  What is it about this mysterious person that has me spooked? And Horatio, too? I wouldn’t think anything spooks him.

  Ambrose brushed up against her legs.

  “You’re no help, Bro.”

  By 5:00 p.m., she had convinced herself she was letting her own neuroses get the better of her. By most accounts, the day had gone well. Kevin Horner was rolling through his scenes; they were even preparing to shoot an additional one, ahead of schedu
le. Allison wasn’t on set today, so maybe he was more focused without her around. Kandace had been more present in the afternoon, but Lacey had been able to read her moves, preparing her reports before she even asked for them.

  They only had one hiccup between them. Lacey had asked, “So, are you expecting the moneyman today? I noticed some parking blocked off in the lot.”

  Kandace huffed. “I don’t know, Lacey, he might come today. And we reserve parking for lots of people, anyway. Not just the VIPs. You shouldn’t be so nosy.”

  Geesh! I didn’t think my question warranted that response.

  Lacey had let it go, still annoyed that Kandace only allowed one-way nosiness.

  Eli had gone missing since midday, so Lacey had no opportunity to ask him more about it.

  By eight o’clock in the evening, Lacey had Ambrose on his lead and was looking for Kandace. There was nothing left for her to do, and she was planning to go home. The door to Marco’s office was closed, and Lacey stopped in front of it, listening for voices. If Kandace was in there, she would send her a text.

  Standing before the door, Ambrose began to struggle, and growled low.

  “Ambrose!” she said in a commanding whisper, giving the lead a tug. “Stop!”

  And then Ambrose did something he had never done before. He disobeyed Lacey’s command, broke from her grasp, rose on his hind legs to his full height and lunged at the door, checking his 160 pounds against it. Lacey stood, paralyzed with shock. She knew not to make any sudden movements. She tried to make eye contact with him. Then, as suddenly as he went for the door, he returned to all fours and lumbered past her to the end of the hallway.

  She turned around, agape, and saw Eli at the end of the hall. He motioned her to the exit with a single nod of the head.

  What the hell just happened? Lacey thought. She hurried to catch up to Eli and her dog, both of whom were nearly to the rear of the building already.

  She caught up with them in a back corner of the studio. Eli had opened a utility closet, and stood in the doorway with Ambrose behind him.

  “Eli, what the hell?” Lacey said, slightly out of breath. “What did you do to my dog?”

 

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