by John Inman
Turning fond eyes on the old woman, who was grinning widely, Eddie asked, “How are you, Ruth? You and Tommy are well, I hope.”
Ruth got a wily, teasing look in her eye. She cast a glance toward the back of the store, where the double doors leading out onto the loading dock were propped opened wide in the unrealized hope of catching a breeze. Her eyes shifted back to Eddie, and her smile got even wider as she lowered herself back down to her stool behind the counter. She reached for Louie and Eddie handed him over.
“I don’t expect you came to see the old folks, Eddie. Unless there’s something I can get for you, why don’t you go on back and say hello to the help. He’s been moping around long enough. Maybe you can cheer him up.”
“Who? You mean Gray?” Eddie asked.
Ruth cackled like a hen. “Oh, don’t come the innocent with me. You know exactly who I mean.”
“Why? Is something wrong with him?”
Louie had commandeered the old woman’s lap by this time. He was chewing on her apron strings while, with a forefinger, Ruth stroked the little bump of skull bone between his eyes.
“There must be,” she said, “although he surely won’t tell me. Go on back, son. See if you can cheer him up.”
Eddie looked uncertain. “Well, if you think I should.”
Ruth lifted the pup up to her face to plant a kiss on his nose. “Men!” she explained to the dog, shaking her head with mock exasperation, knowing all the while that Eddie was listening to every word she said. “Your master can’t even do what he came to do without admitting he came to do it.”
Louie looked confused, while Eddie barked out a laugh. “That’s a terrible sentence! Makes no sense whatsoever.”
Still chuckling, he headed for the back of the store while Ruth watched him go with a merry glint in her eye. “Yeah, you run along,” she said loud enough for Eddie to hear. “Mend some fences while you’re there.”
Whatever the hell that means, Eddie thought, although in truth he knew exactly what it meant. Picturing the old lady’s eyes still on him, Eddie stepped onto the loading dock and squinted against the afternoon sun.
Gray, with a bag of mulch resting on each shoulder, looked up and saw him. He stopped and let the mulch slide down to his feet, waiting for Eddie to approach. There was a wariness on his face that Eddie didn’t understand or much care for.
Eddie suddenly realized he hadn’t really thought this through. What exactly had he come to tell Gray? What had he really hoped to accomplish by coming here like this? And why did he find himself so tongue-tied all of a sudden?
He cleared his throat, shuffled his feet around a little bit, then straightened his shoulders and waded on in. “How you doing, Gray? Long time no see.”
Gray didn’t seem impressed by Eddie’s opening gambit. He stood there, no-nonsense and all business, his eyes vaguely hooded. “I’m fine. What can I get you?”
Eddie jumped. “Oh! Nothing. I came to… I don’t know… chat, I guess.”
“Chat? About what? You know I’m working, right?”
Two furrows formed in Eddie’s forehead. He took a step closer and lowered his voice. “Of course I do, but well, Ruth said something might be bothering you, so I thought I’d pop on back and see if you’d like to talk about it?”
This time it was Gray who took a step. Backward. “What are you, a therapist now? I barely know you. Don’t you think you’re being a little nosy?”
“I just want to help.” That sounded lame, and Eddie knew it. He could feel his ears beginning to burn.
Gray’s eyes traveled the expanse of Eddie’s face from chin to forehead, finally homing in on the eyes. Eddie had never been pierced by such a glare before. It was all he could do not to cringe away from those gray orbs torching a path straight through his head.
Gray’s voice was level and atonal, as dry and emotionless as a cup of sand. “There’s nothing wrong, so there’s nothing you can do to help. I don’t know how many other ways I can say it. To Ruth, to you, to everybody.” He focused once again on Eddie’s face. This time Eddie thought he spotted a plea for understanding in their pale depths. And somehow, a touch of either fear or humiliation. Eddie wasn’t sure which, but whatever it was it made him try a little harder. Too hard, maybe.
“Gray, I just think—”
Gray held up his hand, road-blocking Eddie’s sentence before it could go anywhere. “I know you think you’re doing the right thing, Eddie, but I don’t need or want your help. Some things we have to figure out for ourselves. All right?”
But Eddie couldn’t leave it alone. “What things?” he asked before he could stop himself.
And with that final breach of etiquette on Eddie’s part, Gray stopped the conversation cold. “I have work to do. Please go away and let me do it. Like I said, I need this job. If you really want to help me, you won’t give old Tommy a reason to fire my ass.”
“I don’t think he’d really—”
Gray looked away. “Please, Eddie. Unless there’s something you need for me to do—businesswise, I mean—then I’m asking you as politely as I can to leave. I don’t know how many other ways to say it.”
Despite his better judgment, Eddie opened his mouth to argue yet again. As if knowing what he was about to do, Gray turned and walked off before he could start. Defeated, Eddie turned away as well. Giving a whistle, he called for Louie. The white pup came prancing through the back door and leaped off the edge of the loading dock, landing in Eddie’s arms. Not wanting to face Ruth again, Eddie walked along the truck path at the edge of the store and out to the street where his Jeep was parked.
Without looking back, he perched Louie on his shoulder, slipped the Jeep into gear, and drove off. He played a Beach Boys tape at full blast all the way home so he wouldn’t have to think. Oddly enough, it worked pretty well. And when Louie let loose with a puppyish howl to let Eddie know he wasn’t crazy about the music, Eddie even managed a halfhearted smile.
But somewhere still in the back of his mind, that glimpse of fear he’d caught in Gray’s eyes never let him go. He worried about it all through supper and later into the night as he sat on the old lawn chair in the backyard with his animals scattered around him, watching the moon shimmer overhead.
He sipped his beer and against his own better judgment, thought back to the taste of Gray’s skin on his lips. And the way Gray’s warm, lean body felt in his arms as they wrestled around in the dirt that day, evading the dogs.
Somehow, that memory in particular simply wouldn’t go away.
BUT LIFE goes on. April began to wane. Eddie’s taxes were filed, and he prayed to God he’d done them right.
After a long empty day of not finding a home for one single animal under his care, Eddie set out with Fred and young Louie to hike the desert behind the refuge. He needed to stretch his legs and push the worry from his mind for a while. He hung a Be Back Soon sign on the front door and left Lucretia to guard the house. Three legs, after all, were not quite sufficient for traversing the rocky game trails that wound their way up and down the hills and canyons of the backcountry.
What was probably one of the last rains the residents of Spangle would see for a while had fallen the night before, and the trails were sloggy with mud. Eddie didn’t mind because thanks to the rain, the air was cool and moist and as crystal clean as he could ever remember it being. In the shimmering blue distance to the south, he could see the flat mesa top that marked the beginning of Mexico. High above his head, cotton-candy clouds stretched from one horizon to the other, tinged tangerine by the setting sun.
Louie had grown as fluffy as the clouds overhead. Still as white as a bank of snow, he was beginning to resemble the adult dog he would soon become. Eddie could see now that the most prominent breed flowing through his veins was most likely bichon frise. He wasn’t purebred by a long shot, but he had the bichon’s sweet face and cottony coat. Louie was also still as attached to Eddie as he had ever been, but he found time to share his love with his animal f
riends as well. At the moment, he was nipping at Fred’s tail as the three of them—Eddie, Fred, Louie—traipsed along between clumps of chaparral that bordered the trail. Eddie wore his ankle-high boots in case he surprised a rattlesnake, and he carried a long walking stick to poke through the weeds and boulders along the way to make sure he wouldn’t. In case they didn’t get home before darkness fell, Eddie carried a large flashlight in the backpack strapped to his shoulders, along with two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and a handful of dog biscuits.
His mind still wandered back to Gray Grissom now and then, and with considerable sadness when it did. He suspected they might have found at least a friendship to share if they had come to know each other better. But Eddie had received Gray’s message loud and clear the last time they met at the back of the hardware store. Don’t pry, don’t ask questions, don’t bother me. So Eddie had backed off. And as far as he knew, he had backed off permanently.
That was before he glanced up the trail and saw Gray Grissom rounding the bend ahead of him. The sight was a shock. He stumbled to a stop so quickly, Fred and Louie both walked into him from behind.
Since they were headed in the same direction, and since Gray had his head down, carefully picking his way along the muddied path, Gray couldn’t have known Eddie was within fifty miles of him. Still, Eddie sort of hunkered down a bit so he wouldn’t be seen in case Gray should look back. And as soon as Gray dipped behind the hilltop out of sight, Eddie whispered for the dogs to be quiet and kicked himself into high gear to catch up and see where Gray was going.
And yes, he knew he was being nosy, like Gray said he was, but he didn’t care. Didn’t care one little bit.
A sneaky light lit his eyes as he slopped along the muddy trail, trying to gain a little ground in case Gray should disappear somewhere up ahead before Eddie could top the hill and see where he was headed.
Unless Gray was simply strolling along without a definite destination in mind, Eddie couldn’t figure out where he might be going. Like Eddie, he had a backpack over his shoulder, and he was dressed as he did for work, so he must have just gotten off for the day. If he was headed home, he must be taking the long way around, because there was nothing up ahead on this trail but a couple of summer cabins that were rarely used at this time of year. And even if one of those cabins was Gray’s destination, it would have been easier to reach them along the county road than to take this winding, rocky path through the backcountry. The only reason to approach the cabins from this angle would have been to prevent himself from being spotted by a prying passerby—like Eddie.
Hushing the dogs yet again, Eddie crept toward the crest of the hill. At the summit a large boulder protruded higher than Eddie’s head, and the trail was forced to make a jog to bypass it. Eddie stood behind it now, peeking around the side of the great limestone block. He spotted Gray farther down the hill, stepping off the trail at a point where there stood a copse of cypress trees, inside of which there was a small clearing.
There was a cabin there, Eddie knew. It was owned by a lawyer who worked and lived in the city and who came out here every other summer or so to get away. Eddie only remembered them because they were hikers, and he’d met the man and his wife a couple of times along the trails.
Holding his breath now and starting to feel guilty about being such a snoop, Eddie edged farther around the side of the boulder to keep an eye on Gray as he entered the clearing. He could hear the thud of footsteps on wood as Gray climbed up to the cabin’s porch. Craning his neck just a little bit more, Eddie caught a glimpse of Gray standing at the cabin’s door, shrugging out of his backpack, kicking the mud from his shoes, and pulling a key from his trouser pocket. With the key, he opened the cabin door and stepped inside. A moment later, Eddie saw the cabin lights go on.
It was dusk now and soon would be dark. Already the moon was hanging low on the eastern horizon, full and fat and ready for its nightly climb across the heavens.
A sudden burst of music erupted from behind the cabin walls. Something operatic. Aida, he thought, but he wasn’t sure. Eddie wasn’t exactly well-versed on such things. His musical tastes ran more toward country and vintage rock and roll. Still, he wasn’t above feeling surprised, and a little impressed, that Gray should enjoy such music.
Eddie noticed a glimmer of white scurrying down the trail in front of him. It took him a moment to realize it was Louie rushing toward the cabin. Apparently he had taken it into his head to say hello to someone he considered an old friend, regardless of the uncomfortable position it would put his master in when he did.
Eddie took off running with Fred at his heels, trying to catch the pup before he reached the cabin. But Louie was motivated and fairly flew down the muddy path, yipping now in excitement. He was moving so fast, the wind laid his ears flat to his head, and sprinkles of mud flew up in his wake. Needless to say, Eddie didn’t stand a chance of catching him.
To make matters worse, the closer Louie got to the cabin, the louder his yapping became.
Eddie had gained some ground and was just reaching out to snatch Louie off the trail before he reached the cabin steps when the cabin door flew open and everyone—Louie, Eddie, and Fred—all slid to a stop, surprised.
Eddie looked up and found Gray’s eyes burning into his. He didn’t appear amused.
Sternly, Gray approached the edge of the porch. His voice was as brittle as ice. “What are you doing here, Eddie?”
Before Eddie could respond, Louie gave another yap, this one loud enough to raise the dead. He took a flying leap out of Eddie’s arms and landed in Gray’s. Gray caught him—barely—and when he did, he almost smiled. Then his eyes traveled back to Eddie, and the smile fell from his lips like the last leaf of autumn.
“Answer me,” he said. “Why are you here?”
Eddie tried not to shuffle his feet. He was pretty sure he looked guilty enough without doing that. “I—I was hiking,” he stammered. “We saw you up ahead on the trail. I wouldn’t have bothered you, but….” His eyes narrowed, and he stared at Louie, who was slathering kisses all over Gray’s face, not caring one little bit that his master was glaring daggers at him.
Eddie wasn’t sure if it was his own obvious guilt or Louie’s energetic greeting that did the trick, but Gray finally let a hint of a smile soften his mouth. The furrow between his eyes smoothed itself out, and he suddenly didn’t look so mad anymore. He pushed the door open behind him with his heel, and reluctantly beckoned Eddie and Fred inside. He didn’t have to beckon Louie at all, since the pup was still in his arms, currently licking his neck.
“Come inside, then,” Gray said, tearing his eyes from the pup to study Eddie’s face. “I was about to make some tea.”
For lack of anything smarter to say, Eddie kicked his filthy shoes off and muttered, “Tea and opera. Who woulda thunk?”
“THE OWNER knows I’m here. I’m not squatting, if that’s what you think. You want a cookie with your tea?”
“Sure. I’ve never turned down a cookie in my life.”
Gray almost grinned. “Thanks for clearing that up. I’ll file it in my brain with all the other useless crap I’ve picked up over the years.”
Eddie was sitting at the pine dining table while the fire in the flagstone fireplace fought back the dampness that had soaked into the cabin from the recent rain. The warmth felt good. The music coming from the old console hi-fi in the corner had been turned down low, and the only sound inside the cabin now other than that was the tippy-tap of doggie toenails as Fred and Louie explored their new surroundings.
Hating himself for it, Eddie told his first lie of the day. “I never thought you were squatting.” With that out of the way, he peered around at the furnishings. The cabin consisted of one room, except for what Eddie suspected was a small bathroom closed off in the corner. Everything fabric, from curtains to couch to bedspread, was green and yellow plaid. Everything wood was knotty pine. Rag rugs decorated the floor, and a stack of firewood pyramided up the side of the fire
place. The fire was so pleasant, Eddie found himself wishing he had a fireplace of his own.
An old upright piano stood against the back wall. There was a forgotten cup of coffee still sitting at the end of the keyboard. It was the end with the high notes, which was about all Eddie knew about pianos. Maybe Gray had been pecking out “Chopsticks” before he had to hustle off to work that morning.
Eddie refocused his attention on Gray, sitting quietly across from him at the kitchen table. When he did, Gray pushed a package of cookies toward him, which Eddie ignored for the moment.
“Why didn’t you want to tell me where you lived?” he asked. “It’s a nice little cabin. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know.”
Gray shrugged, concentrating on his tea. He brought the cup to his lips and blew on it. His eyes hovered over the rim and studied Eddie staring back.
Eddie tried again. “We’re practically neighbors, you know.”
“I know. But not for long. I’m giving up the cabin at the end of June. Mr. Stevens and his wife are coming back then. I’ll need to be out by the first.”
Eddie snapped his fingers. “Stevens! That’s right. I couldn’t remember his name.” He refocused his attention on Gray, offering a little sympathy, which seemed appropriate under the circumstances. “So where will you move to?”
Gray’s pale lashes hooded his eyes while a frown twitched at his lips. “I’m not sure. I’ll figure something out.”
Louie reclaimed Gray’s lap and immediately fell asleep after his long hike. He was so tired he didn’t even beg for a cookie. Fred was in front of the fire gnawing on one of the Milk-Bones Eddie had tossed him. Without thinking about it, Eddie reached into his backpack and hauled out the two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, sliding one to Gray and keeping the other for himself. Gray accepted it with a wistful smile. Pretty soon they were chomping away.
“How do you know Mr. Stevens?” Eddie asked.
