by John Hansen
“Hey Will... sit down in the sun with us,” Dee said.
I sat down slowly, settling into a position with my back to the sunlight. Dee looked over my things. “Going somewhere?”
“Well,” I said, “I wasn’t expecting to just drop this on you, but I was wondering if I could crash here – just for a couple days – until I find a new place. I was gonna ask Greg first but I’m guessing he’s not here.”
Dee just nodded as if it was a perfectly normal thing to ask. “Officer Olsterman called this morning, looking for Greg. I had him tell me the whole thing. I think he forgets I’m a ranger too, that old fart.” She smiled, and Ophie held up to her a dandelion; Dee picked it up and twirled it in her hand. Ophie was stacking plastic Lego bricks together to make a house in the grass.
“I was gonna call over to Two Med and see how you were doing, see if you needed anything,” Dee said. “Then I see you walking up with your bag and guitar like you live here already.”
I laughed. “I hope Greg doesn’t think I’m barging in, but I am a good cook – at least as far as the Two Med snack bar menu goes.”
“You hear that Ophie?” Dee asked the little girl. Ophie did not indicate she heard anything, but kept on focusing on her little Lego building. “Will’s gonna make us some Huckleberry shakes!”
“As many as you can handle,” I said. “Also, I think I can make it up to him. I have some news that he will find interesting.”
She looked at me curiously for a moment, but then nodded and looked down at Ophie. “Well you certainly travel light. Of course you can stay here – as long as you need.”
She probably knew more about the whole thing that I realized. I still was wavering on telling Greg about Larry’s accident; and the problem still would be what Greg did with the news. But I felt as I watched Dee and Ophie playing and thought about Greg’s life, that I had to tell him who killed Alia – I couldn’t just leave him in the dark forever. He had risked his job at one point, after all.
We hung out on the grass for a while, watching Ophie construct her house and then put a live turtle in it, which she had found in the road days before. As she played, I told my sanitized versions about the powwow, Jake, and the rest, to Dee as we sat there. I felt so relaxed, just sitting in the sun with nothing to do for the moment, and in Dee’s calming presence, and nothing pressing down on me, that I couldn’t stop smiling. I got out my guitar and strummed some chords, letting my mind wander into a thoughtless peace, letting the notes and melody wander over the grass and into the air. The meds were apparently still doing their work…
The mountains near Two Medicine Lake were still visible from Greg’s house – just the peaks over the trees, though. I watched them with the familiar eye of a local, and imagined myself on one of the peaks looking down. I decided I would put my worried aside and wait until the next day to decide where to go, where to work, where to live. I strummed the chords some more until the sun reached higher and Dee called me out of my reverie to go in and have lunch.
I ate and we cleaned up, and then I suddenly felt so exhausted that I stumbled into the spare guest room she showed me and laid down on the bed. Within seconds was in a deep sleep. It had been two days since I had slept, in fact, so it was no surprise that I passed out. Dee left with Ophie to the grocery store after putting me down, and with the quiet of the house and my new-found peace, I slept as soundly as I had all summer.
I woke up later on the couch and it was dark outside. I forgot for a moment where I was as I stretched my sore body. I looked up expecting for a moment bare wooden planks, but saw a smooth, white ceiling with a big, ceiling fan hanging down over me. I heard voices and the clinking of dishes coming from the back porch. I got up stiffly and wandered over to the sliding back door. Greg was standing at a little barbecue grill and frying sausages and vegetables skewered on kabobs.
I reached into my bag and pulled out a baseball hat and put it on in an attempt to clean up my appearance somewhat – my hair sticking out in crazy directions, and my t-shirt and shorts wrinkled. I still, however, looked like a wreck when I stepped out onto the porch.
“Hey guys, I apologize for my bedraggled appearance.”
Greg turned to me and looked analytically at my wounds. “Jeez, Will, they really did a number on you, huh?”
“Let’s not discuss it, babe,” Dee said, nodding at Ophie. She asked me to help with setting the table. Ophie looked at me critically, and I heard her ask Dee in a quiet voice what happened to me. Dee ignored her.
“You’re right,” Greg said to Dee, nodding and looking back down at his grill filled with sausages. “Gotta focus on these babies anyway. Get a beer, Will.”
“No, he’s helping me first,” Dee said, smiling at him.
“Probably not a good idea with the meds, anyway.” I said, realizing however that I had not taken one that day yet. Then the peace on the front lawn was not drug induced, I mused.
We had a nice dinner and relaxed, enjoyable time. It was pleasant to eat outside under the deep-indigo, almost-night sky on Greg’s back porch. The night was coming sooner now at this time of year, but still was late to get dark: around nine p.m. The bugs had long since disappeared for the year. I was beginning to feel like my time was coming as well.
After dinner I finally had a chance to talk to Greg alone. We sat on the porch after Dee and Ophie cleaned up – Dee insisted that I take it easy as their guest, “and slave…” she said, jokingly.
The night had fully arrived, and a thin crescent moon peeked through the pine boughs over the small river. Larry’s canoe was still jammed up in the weeds, I could see. I guess I should have returned it, but it seemed right to have it here now, with me. I didn’t think he’d object, not now.
“After hearing about what happened at the powwow,” Greg said, “I wasn’t too surprised that you wanted to move out of the store.”
“I actually miss it,” I said, listening to the crickets whirring loudly from inside the dark forest. “I didn’t want to leave.” I reached up and felt the bandage on my neck. The cut was healing quickly, but it was still painful to move and look around. “But it didn’t feel right to stay; Jake’s still out there after all.”
“What are your plans, then?” Greg asked. “What now?”
“Not sure. But I can’t imagine leaving Glacier, not now.”
“I’ll ask around next few days and see who’s hiring, give you some options.”
“I appreciate that, man.” I shifted in my seat and looked over at him. No, I decided, he must know. “There’s something I want to tell you about, Greg, but because of your job I’m afraid you may do something about it that I don’t want you to.”
Greg looked at me.
“Alia,” I said.
He watched me for a moment, and then looked out through the dark shadows of the trees. “Dee said something about you having some news… Well,” he said, smirking, “I’m not a cop, remember? Just a ranger.”
“Larry killed Alia.”
He looked at me with a shocked expression. “Larry Martin? From the store?”
I nodded.
“When did you find this out?”
“Yesterday.” I then told Greg the whole story, from the moment I got to the powwow to the end, with Larry in his proper place in the tale this time. Greg didn’t move as I spoke, but I could see an energy behind his eyes that told me he was already putting together what he was going to do with his new information.
“Greg,” I said, when I finished, “you can’t tell anyone about it. Please… Larry didn’t mean to do it; and the poor bastard is destroyed already – if you saw him you’d know. He’s a different man now; and destroying his life and Phyllis and everything would make it all worse.”
“I still can’t believe it,” he shook his head slowly. “You want him to just get off after he ran her down like that and hid the body? Actually, I should have suspected him, seeing it all in hindsight,” I said. “He really became a different person after she died, but I j
ust avoided him all summer and I didn’t care what he was doing.”
“Will,” Greg cleared his throat, setting his beer down on the floor, “I know what you mean about destroying Phyllis and all that, but you can’t seriously be thinking that we’re not gonna report this.”
“I am seriously thinking that,” I said
Greg shook his head again.
“I want your word, Greg, as a friend. And you have been a good friend to me. I told you this in confidence, because you helped me, and now I want you to let it go.”
Greg grabbed his beer and stood up and walked over to the grass, pouring the rest of his beer out. “You’re just emotional after the attack, in shock after finding this all out,” he said, watching the foam melt in the grass.
“No, Greg, I’m thinking as clear as I ever have. He’s not actually some kind of monster like I thought. If you report it, he’s arrested, his life is over. I know he’s an asshole, a bastard, but… there’s goodness in him. And I’m pretty sure Alia wouldn’t want him going to prison.”
Greg looked back at me with a pained expression. “So this is the end, after all that searching for the killer, trying to solve a murder?”
“It is,” I said flatly. “And it’s the right thing to do.”
Greg looked down at his lawn again. “My boss, telling me I was ignoring my job looking into this whole thing… Dee, feeling like I was distant, angry at me. How am I supposed to go back to all of them like nothing happened?”
I took a gulp of my beer, but didn’t answer him.
Greg sat back down next to me. He took a deep breath; he sounded defeated. “How do you know he hasn’t already turned himself in? He said he was going to, didn’t he?”
I thought of the letter I had left for him on his truck and pictured Larry reading it, standing there beside his truck intending to drive to Kalispell to ruin his life like he ruined another.
“He won’t,” I answered.
Forty-Three
That next day I finally pulled off the bandages and took a long shower. While I was in the shower, I let the hot water run over my wounds. It stung, but the pain felt like it was purifying me of something. I watched the water circle the drain and imagined whatever that bad something was, was washing down and disappearing in the whirlpool, forever gone.
When I was finished I inspected the cuts on my face, the neck slash, the puncture wounds. Other than some angry red edges around the wounds, some discoloration and bruising and scabbing, it was looking… not so bad. Like someone who had tangled with a wild animal. I wrapped up the worst of the cuts again after and applying some ointment, and taped off the bandages.
The phone rang and I let it go to the answering machine. I knew that Dee and Greg were at work and Ophie at day care, and they’d be out all day. The caller didn’t leave a message, but the phone immediately rang again. Strange. I walked into the living room in my towel, and answered it.
It was Ronnie voice on the other end. “If you think you’re getting out of watching the Perseid meteor shower tonight… you’re dead wrong,” he said.
“I’m not dead yet,” I responded. “So it’s tonight? It’s late August already, huh?
Even after his incessant chatter about it, I had forgotten all about Ronnie’s big meteor shower – the “Tears of Saint Lawrence.”
“Yea,” Ronnie said, “I’ll pick you up at nine. I’ll get the beer.” He said he had to get back to work, and couldn’t’ talk long.
“Is Larry there?” I asked.
“Yea, why?”
“No reason.”
I hung up the phone and went to get dressed.
I spent the first part of the day cleaning Greg and Dee's kitchen, scrubbing the stove top till it gleamed, Windex on the fridge inside, cleaning the shelves, and then I mopped the floor. This was in part a penance and in part a payment for my stay, but also, I think, a habit of working in the kitchen at the store. We were forever cleaning that kitchen top to bottom. I felt like I had to do it, to do something, during the day in the house – I couldn’t just sit idle.
I made a simple lunch of some bread and peanut butter I found, and then spent the rest of the day down by the stream, cleaning out Larry's canoe, washing all the mud and sand out and turning it over on its face to dry out.
Greg and Dee got home later and we grilled out again, and by nine p.m., Ronnie had pulled up in his car, music blaring as of old, smoke pouring out the window. I got in to the front passenger seat and saw with surprise that Katie was sitting in the back seat. Just like old times, I thought.
Ronnie was playing The Doors as we drove down the road that led towards Browning. The night was clear, thankfully, and I felt in good spirits, reunited with my strange family, at least for the night. There was some awkwardness between Ronnie and I still, of course, but it felt good to be back in that car, after everything.
“You know I kinda miss you guys, already,” I said, looking back at Katie. “How’s the store without me?”
“You mean the whole two days you been gone?” Katie asked, smirking at me. “The building burnt down and the campers have rioted and looted us out.”
“Very funny….”
“Actually,” she said, “It’s pretty good. Larry is totally different. I don’t know what got into him, but he’s actually nice now, kind of...”
“Yea,” Ronnie chimed in. “I guess it was you that was bugging him all this time…” He winked at me and reached down for a fresh cigarette.
I shook my head. “He’s probably just worried you two might up and leave him too, and then he’d be truly screwed.”
“Don’t smoke yet,” Katie said, as Ronnie stuck a cigarette in his mouth. “Not till we’re outside.”
Ronnie stuck it behind his ear. “Ok, mom.” We drove over to a small gas station, and turned into the parking lot.
“Gotta pick somebody up,” Ronnie said, turning into a parking space next to an old Jeep Wrangler.
A girl stepped out of the Jeep, and grabbed a large paper bag from the passenger seat. She walked over to us and I saw that it was Jamie.
“You back with her again?” I asked Ronnie as she walked up.
“Something like that.”
Jamie got into the back seat next to Katie, and we started off again. We said our “hellos” and she directed us where to go as we got closer to Browning.
“So where are we going?” I asked.
“This lady I know has a farm close to here,” Jaime said. “And it’s the perfect place to see the meteor shower: private, totally dark – no lights anywhere around. The lady is actually a friend of Sky’s, that’s how I met her.”
A concerning thought that Jake may still be out and about, lurking in the darkness still with his misfit gang and viscous intentions. Would he pop up out of some field in the darkness as the meteors shot overhead? We soon drove onto a dirt road that offered huge bumps and potholes, which Ronnie carefully steered around, peering into the dark beyond his weak head lights. We saw a small farmhouse next to a barn and drove towards it. Getting closer, I spotted a middle-aged lady standing outside near her front porch, accompanied by two enormous shaggy dogs. A singe flood light illuminated the front yard, but other than that the property was perfectly dark, as Jamie had described.
We drove up and Jamie hopped out; the lady came up and gave her a hug.
“This is Nancy, guys, this is her place,” Jamie said to us, waving us over.
The two dogs were big Saint Bernards, I noticed, and they came up lazily, sniffling at our hands. They both were drooling an incredible amount of saliva.
“Hey guys,” Nancy said, “this is Bootsie and Ranger. They’re friendly, won’t hurt ya.”
Nancy looked like she was in her late forties, had nice blonde and brownish hair, large glasses and a kind of soft, comfortable-looking body. She looked like your friend’s mother from down the street – friendly, approachable, with a slightly sexual allure.
“Hi, Bootsie and Ranger,” I said, letting th
e dogs sniff around my legs.
“Nancy breeds St. Bernards,” Jamie told the group.
“That and run this farm,” Nancy said. “But these guys are a full time job, for sure.”
“Easy, Cujo,” Ronnie said, leaning back against his car and lighting his cigarette, keeping his distance.
“Some veterinarian you’d make,” Katie said to him. “They’re adorable.” She bent down and gave one of the dogs a big hug around its neck. She ignored the strings of drool swinging below the dog’s mouth.
“Adorable and for sale,” Nancy said, smiling. “Although I doubt you could keep one at Two Medicine.”
“They’d be so nice to cuddle up with…” Katie said, giving the dog a last hug while the other one sniffed at her feet.
We packed into the cars again, and Nancy led us down the dirt road again in her truck, the two dogs sitting in the back of the truck bed. She eventually turned off the road and drove straight up a grassy hill to the top, where she stopped and got out, leaving the truck running.
“This is a good spot,” Nancy said to us, pointing out a grassy clearing up on the hill.
“You’re not watching with us?” Jamie asked, getting out of the car.
“No, I got work to do. Besides, I’ve been seeing it for years.”
We said our goodbyes as she got back into the old truck and bounded down the hill, the dogs trying to stay balanced in the back of the truck. Katie and I set out the large blanket she had brought, and Jamie and Ronnie got the beer cooler from the back of the car. Ronnie left the music playing on his car stereo, with his door open to amplify the sound.
“What kind of work does Nancy have to do this late at night?” I asked Jamie.
Jamie looked at Ronnie and they laughed for a second.
“Not farming, that’s for sure,” Ronnie said.
“You see those Christmas lights down there, on her porch?” Jamie asked me, pointing off down in the dark towards the farmhouse. “When they’re on, she’s open for business.”
