The Dying Season

by J. Reichman

  “I saw Red and Jeff put things from Striker’s in one of the cabins,” Lyn said. “And Brett’s guns are secure.”

  “Steve found a fuel tank free of water,” Nick said. “Got a generator, too. Took it up to Wade’s but couldn’t figure out the radio. Have to wait for Wade.”

  “If only they were back.”

  Nick finished his wine. “It’s hard not knowing if the killer escaped or is still in the area.”

  Lyn stood. “Let’s go down to dinner.”

  On the drive down to the school, Nick thought about the evening and day ahead. I’ll ask for reports. Make people feel good about what they accomplished. Keep them busy tomorrow. Tomorrow. Saturday the twenty-first. The first day of autumn, the dying season.

  The cafeteria buzzed with conversation. A whiff of freshly baked bread hung in the air, and Nick’s stomach rumbled. He and Lyn took trays through the line and seated themselves next to the Myers and Shannon.

  "How's it going at the Red Rooster?" Nick asked Shannon.

  "Plenty of food." Several tendrils escaped Shannon's ponytail, and she wound them around a finger. "The seniors are into fresh fruit and vegetables, which is fine with me."

  "You seem a bit tense."

  "Well, you know Henrietta Jones took my last vacant room." Shannon twisted her hair even harder. "She said your home was too primitive and something about a bear, and she brought a little dog with her."

  "Ah, Sweetie Pie."

  "And I'm so worried about Kyle." Shannon's eyes glistened with threatening tears.

  "Many are worried about loved ones," Lyn said. "The surge must've hit Two Rivers, but the school would be safe. I imagine the teachers there are taking care of their students in the same manner as the teachers here."

  Shannon looked down. "Rationally, I know that's true. But emotionally?"

  "It's taxing," Nick said, "and you're burdened with responsibilities."

  Shannon attempted a smile. "That keeps me busy so I don't have much time to worry."

  Zenia leaned between Nick and Lyn. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said.

  “No harm,” Lyn said.

  “Cooper’s showing a movie here tonight. Logan wants to stay. I’m taking Chrissy’s place. She’s been here two whole days with the kids. Wants to spend the night with her husband.”

  “Okay,” Nick said.

  “But that leaves you two all alone,” Zenia said.

  “We’ll be fine.” Nick pictured soft music on his transistor radio, the fire’s glow, wine. Just the way he wanted the evening to go.

  "I think Chuck's ready to start the meeting," Lyn said.

  Chuck clapped his hands for quiet. "Here we are again. I'm sure you've all had a busy day, so Nick, you seem to be on top of things. I'll turn it over to you."

  Nick asked for reports. Prissy Waters said food donations were meat heavy and light on fresh fruits and vegetables. She requested more staples such as flour, sugar, and cooking oil. Lyn outlined the cooking schedule and announced a pancake breakfast from seven until eight the following morning. Steve Myers asked if anyone knew of a generator, and Larry Lockhart believed his neighbor, a summer resident, stored one in his basement. Cooper Stone requested volunteers to watch the school children the following day and give the teachers a needed break. Nora Murphy suggested a visit to the stables, and Cheyenne and Red spoke up to accompany the kids.

  Herbert Waters stood. "I worked with Howard Grayson checking houses today. Small place like this, everyone knows everybody else. Lots of people leave doors unlocked, so I’d go in. Make sure nothin’ was disturbed. Found several cats. Me and Prissy got cats, you know. Spotted one little hamster. Anyway, I made sure they had food and water. Clean the litter box. A few houses had dogs, too. One locked inside. Our neighbors have a dog. Fenced back. We gave him water, but we don't have dog food. The wife gave him cafeteria scraps. What we gonna do about pets?"

  "Our neighbors have cats," Cassie Long said. "I never thought about them."

  “That is a problem,” Nick said. And another way to keep people busy and productive. “Henri, you love your dog.”

  “You betcha.”

  “Can you work with Herb tonight? Come up with a solution and tell us at breakfast about what you’d like for us to do.”

  “Be glad to. Pets become members of the family," Henri said. "Our neighbors would call us murderers if we let a family member starve."

  "I wish Wade and Brett were back," Chuck said. "Until they are, we don't know if this man in the blue car is gone or still in the area."

  "Wade thought they might be out overnight," Nora said. "It's rough country and streams are up. He prepared for it."

  "I'm sure they're fine," Nick said, "just as I'm sure our missing loved ones are safe and healthy."

  "If the rain quits and the wind dies tomorrow, we may be rescued," Frank Fleener said.

  "Let's pray for that and for our loved ones who aren't here. Henri will you lead us in prayer, please."

  Nick sat beside Lyn as Henri rose. He spent the time thinking of tasks for the next day and about spending a pleasant evening at home with his wife, only listening to Henri's words when he detected a catch in her voice as she choked up. Noise in the back of the cafeteria caused a stir as Henri finished.

  "See you at breakfast," Nick said to the assemblage.

  "We're showing a movie here for the kids," Cooper announced. "You're welcome to stay."

  May Gutherie, who ran the daycare, pushed through the crowd to Nick's side. "Danielle's water broke a moment ago."

  Oh, no, Nick thought. Everything was going so well. "She's early." Nick turned to Lyn. "What do you think? Deliver the baby here?"

  "You don't have your medical bag. Have you timed the contractions?" Lyn asked May.

  May shook her head. "She didn’t tell me she was having contractions."

  "We've plenty of time, then," Lyn said. "I don't think this is the place. Too many people."

  "Neither is the daycare," May said. "All we have is a mattress on the floor."

  "Let's take her home, Nicky."

  "It's been years since I delivered a baby," Nick said.

  "It's like riding a bike." Lyn grinned. "It's her third. It'll be a breeze."

  Well, that ruins my evening, Nick thought. Danielle delivered a healthy baby boy after two in the morning.

  FIFTEEN

  “Well, at least you got on clean clothes,” Dana said as she carried Denver into the cabin and sat him on the floor among his toys.

  “Ran home and picked some up,” Chuck said. “Washed up at the school. Where were you all day? Didn’t see you until dinner.”

  “Oh, I was around.” Dana lit a cigarette. “Left Denver at the daycare.”

  “Nick and I worked all day at the store. Thought you might come by to see the damage.”

  “I was busy.” Dana blew smoke at the ceiling. “It’s bad, I suppose.”

  “One wall’s entirely gone. All the shelving’s pushed against the other wall. The records in the office are a soggy mess.” Chuck watched Denver fiddle with his little laptop. “Surprised that thing still works.”

  “Charged it up at the school.”

  “Mud and limbs everywhere and the stench.” I can’t put the picture into words, Chuck realized. “You should have come by.”

  “Why would I want to?”

  “It belongs to us.”

  “Your dad built it. It’s mostly yours. I’m only an unpaid employee.” Dana flipped her cigarette into the fireplace.

  “Your name’s on the deed.”

  Dana shrugged. “Whatever.”

  Chuck found Dana’s attitude disturbing and puzzling. What’s she after now? I’ve given her everything she’s ever wanted.

  “Do you want a salary?”

  “It’d be nice to have money of my own.”

  What’s she need that for? “We’ll see about that when we rebuild.” Chuck picked Denver up and sat him onto the couch. “You haven’t told me what you did today.” />
  “Emptied our freezer. Took it up to school. Then I got assigned kitchen duty. Whose idea was that?”

  “Oh, Nick mentioned pooling food. I suppose Lyn came up with the kitchen duty idea.”

  “Seems everyone has ideas but you,” Dana said. “You let Nick take over after dinner as usual.”

  Here we go again. “Nothing wrong with delegating authority.”

  Dana snickered. “Delegating authority? Is that what you call it?”

  Chuck glanced at Denver who stared at his mother with wide, frightened eyes.

  “Keep your voice down. You’re scaring Denver.”

  Dana’s hand shook as she lit another cigarette.

  “Where’d you get the cigarettes?”

  “Striker’s. Stopped by there. Jeff and Darren were sorting through the place. Gave me a carton.”

  “Why that’s just across the street. And you were too busy to come by?”

  “Yes.” Dana paced the floor.

  “All you had to do was walk across the street.”

  “Didn’t want to get mud all over my shoes.”

  “Wasn’t there mud in Striker’s, too?”

  “Quit questioning me.” She drew on her cigarette. “Oh, I’ll absolutely scream if we have another day of rain.”

  “Let’s put Denver on the couch tonight,” Chuck said. “Have the bed for ourselves.”

  “I’m not going to bed at nine o’clock. God, this is so boring. No television. No phone. I can’t sit around here and stare at you all evening.” She tossed her cigarette into the fire. “I’m going next door.”

  Dana slammed the cabin door and Denver burst into tears.

  “Come, little man.” Chuck picked up his son to comfort him. “It’s okay. Mommy’s tired and cranky. You’re probably tired, too.”

  Why wouldn’t she walk across the street? The tightness in Chuck’s chest increased.

  “Have another,” Jeff said as he handed Steve a beer.

  “Only one more,” Steve said. “Got work tomorrow. Soon as I get that generator, I’ll rig up a pump at Striker’s.”

  “I’ll take another, too,” Stella said, “but I got breakfast duty at six.”

  “It’s Friday night,” Darren said. “Let your hair down a bit.”

  “After last night, I thought you two would be a bit more cautious about getting loaded,” Steve said.

  Jeff laughed. “We did overdo it a bit. Old Darren even thought he spied the killer.”

  “Turned out to be you,” Darren said. “Jeff was all scared.”

  “Was not. Just said I’d get him when I had a gun. Got one now.”

  “Where’d you get a gun?” Stella asked.

  “Brett’s store,” Jeff said. “Cleaned out the guns today and kept me one. A pistol.”

  “Me, too,” Darren said.

  “You boys be careful,” Steve said. “Drinking and packing a gun. You might shoot someone accidentally. Me, for instance.”

  “Brett say you could take a gun?” Stella asked.

  “He wasn’t around to ask,” Darren said. “We’ll give them back. We need them for protection during this crisis.”

  “Another customer,” Jeff said at a tap on the door. “Oh.” Dana brushed by him. Not good. She hung around for an hour at Striker’s, talking to Darren.

  “Look who’s here,” Darren said. “Have a beer. You can sit with me here at the table.”

  “I was bored,” Dana said as she opened a beer. “Nothing to do.”

  “Chuck coming?” Jeff asked.

  “Maybe in a bit when Denver’s asleep.”

  Another knock. “More company,” Jeff said, hoping it was Chuck. He opened the door. “Doak and Chrissy.”

  “Come in. Come in,” Darren said.

  “I brought another six pack,” Doak said. “Fresh off the truck.”

  “That’s what it’s for,” Darren said.

  “We’d really prefer wine,” Chrissy said.

  “Oh, we got that, too,” Jeff said. “In a box on the porch. Got it from Striker’s. Red or white?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Steve said. “I got a corkscrew.”

  “How’d you get the night off?” Stella asked Chrissy.

  “Zenia’s filling in for me. Got tomorrow off, too. Red and Cheyenne taking the kids up to the stable.”

  “Say, Doak, I could use some help tomorrow,” Steve said.

  “Doing what?” Doak opened a bottle of wine. “Get some glasses, Chris.”

  “Rigging up a pump at Striker’s.”

  Jeff noticed Dana tapping Darren’s foot under the table. He pulled out the chair across from her. “Scoot over,” he told Darren. “Give me some room here.” Darren moved to the end of the table.

  “Be glad to help,” Doak said.

  “We’d better go,” Stella said, looking at her watch.

  “Right.” Steve stood. “I want to get that generator after breakfast.”

  “I’ll be there,” Doak said.

  Steve opened the door. Red and Cheyenne stood on the porch.

  “More partiers,” Steve said. “We left room on the couch.”

  “We’re not staying,” Red said. “Just came by to ask about taking a six pack.”

  “No need to ask,” Darren said as he moved to the couch.

  Jeff saw Dana start to rise, but Chrissy sat beside Darren. She’s so transparent, Jeff thought. Does she want everyone to know? What’s she trying to do to Chuck?

  “You got any cigarettes?” Red asked.

  “Took all the cartons from Striker’s,” Jeff said. “They’re in cabin six. I got the key.”

  Jeff walked Red over to cabin six and when he got back, Dana was on the couch with Darren. He wondered how that happened.

  Darren was talking about his regular beer route, bragging about his big sales. “That grocery down in Two Rivers sells the most. Really hurts the bars and liquor stores.”

  “Most people don’t drink much away from home,” Doak said. “Don’t want to get caught drunk driving.”

  Another tap on the door.

  Jeff opened it. “Come on in, Chuck. Have a beer.”

  “I only came for Dana,” Chuck said. “Denver’s asking for her.”

  “I’m coming.” Dana leaned to Darren and whispered something before she joined Chuck.

  Jeff looked at Darren as he shut the door.

  Darren smiled and shrugged.

  The thought that the murderer could be around set Brett on edge. He quickly donned his warm jeans, took a bathroom break, and built up the fire. He sat cross-legged next to Andy, his rifle by his hand. He watched Andy, remembered how the boy’s eyes had fluttered as though he was listening to him and Wade talk. He felt the boy’s chest. Warm, that’s good. The arm with the makeshift splint lay outside the sleeping bag. The tarp above them snapped in the wind which carried the fire’s smoke back into the crude shelter.

  We should’ve headed back to North Fork Glen, he thought, but it was Wade’s horses and Wade’s decision. Riding the ridge line and coming down into the village. He checked his watch. After two. We’d have been home by midnight. Time dragged. In spite of his nervousness, he dozed only to jerk back to wakefulness. Andy stirred. Brett looked down into wide, frightened eyes.

  "Hello, Andy." Brett pressed his knuckles against Andy's cheek. "Remember me?"

  Andy nodded. "The soccer guy."

  "That's right. Bet you'd like a drink."

  Andy nodded again.

  Brett uncapped his canteen and helped Andy to sit. "Let's go slow." He tipped a mouthful between Andy's lips. The boy swallowed it eagerly. Brett filled his mouth again. "That's good."

  Andy's eyes moved around, inspecting his surroundings. "We're camping?"

  "Yes." Brett gave him more water.

  Andy swallowed. "Does my mom know?"

  Brett sat back and looked at the boy. "You wouldn't be here otherwise." He touched Andy's cheek. "Do you feel okay?"

  "My arm really hurts." Andy indicated he wanted
more water. "I got a headache, too."

  "I'll give you an aspirin." Brett searched for the bottle.

  "My mom doesn't give me that." Andy spotted Brett's rifle. "Is that a gun?"

  "I talked to your mom." Brett gave Andy another drink. "She said to give you an aspirin if you had a headache."

  "She did?"

  "Yeah." Brett held out the tablet. "Now open up. I'll give you some more water."

  The boy obediently opened his mouth. Brett popped the pill in and tipped up the canteen again.

  "I got to go."

  Brett frowned and rubbed his chin

  "You know." The boy looked sheepish.

  "Oh, sure." Brett unzipped the bag.

  Andy inspected his arm and looked up at Brett questioningly.

  "You had an accident," Brett said.

  "Oh." Andy tried to stand and Brett helped him.

  "Bathroom is the great outdoors."

  Andy hesitated. "Don't watch."

  Brett turned his back and listened. "As soon as the sun comes up, we'll go back home."

  "Okay."

  "It'll be a long ride."

  "Ride?" Finished, Andy returned to Brett's side.

  "On the horses." Brett led the boy back to his sleeping bag.

  "I get to ride on a horse?"

  Brett helped Andy pull up his underpants. "That's right."

  "Oh, boy."

  "Now you go back to sleep." Brett bedded the boy down and zipped him in. "I'll be right here." He sat beside Andy who was soon sound asleep.

  Brett renewed the fire and resumed his vigil. The boy doesn’t know. Doesn’t remember. Concussion? What should we do? Finally, a faint light showed in the east. The wind picked up, battering the tarp, and a mist hung in the air. Wade stirred, coughed and stretched.

  As Wade performed his morning toilet, Brett felt Andy’s forehead, relieved to find it cool. Andy opened his eyes.

  “Good morning.” Brett smiled. “Ready for a morning ride?”

  Andy sat up. “Water.”

  Brett located the canteen and held it for the boy. “Hungry, too?”

  Andy nodded.

  Wade returned. “Boiled eggs and jerky for breakfast.” He handed out the meager rations.

  “I’ll peal that for you.” Brett cracked Andy’s egg. “Hard to do with one hand.”