by ML Gardner
“Not yet. I just need to make a stop at Jon’s and we’ll be on our way.”
They had left just after dawn, on foot. Patrick carried two carpet bags, Shannon carried Roan and Aislin followed behind. Tired and grumpy, she complained about walking, about leaving and asked if she would go to school where ever they were going.
At Jonathan’s, Ava answered the door still in her robe. He asked for Jonathan and she told him that he had already gone to the marina. She invited them in but Patrick declined.
“We have to be on our way.”
Ava spotted the carpet bags and her mouth dropped open.
“Are you leaving?”
Shannon turned her face, fighting tears.
“Why?” Ava asked, reaching to hug Shannon.
“I can’t say. I need you to give this to Jon, please.”
She took the letter. “I will, Pat. But I wish you’d tell me why.”
“It’s in the letter.”
She looked helplessly at Shannon again as Jean stepped around her.
“Bye, Aislin.”
She ran past Patrick and gave him a crushing hug. “When I learn to write, I’ll send you a note.” He nodded against her shoulder.
“And I’ll send one back. When I learn how.”
Aislin broke away with a quivering lip and ran to her mother, hiding her face in her skirts.
Ava didn’t know what else to say. She hugged Shannon one more time, kissed Roan and watched them walk down the street toward the train station.
“She was my first friend,” Jean said, struggling not to cry.
“You’ll see her again, Jean, I’m sure of it. Patrick and Shannon are like family.” She bent down and lifted his chin. “I’m sure they will at least visit.” He nodded with a pout. She set the letter on the side table next to the door. “Let’s go get you some breakfast, okay?”
∞∞∞
It wasn’t until they had boarded another train in New York, a west bound train, that Patrick told Shannon of his plans.
“There’s some cheap land in Oklahoma. Not a lot of it, but some. That’s where we’re headed. I have enough to get us there and get a few acres with a little left to get by on. Caleb was good enough to give me back every cent I had paid him.”
“But, Patrick, that’s so far away!”
“Aye. But the area of land worked has tripled in the last five years! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. We should have headed out there, instead of Rockport, like everyone else that wants to farm. We’d be planting our second season by now.” He shook his head in regret.
“Are you sure, Pat? Oklahoma?” Her voice was thin and unsure.
He nodded, his jaw set as he looked out the window. The train jerked forward. “I’m sure.” He put his arm around her and settled back with Roan on his chest.
∞∞∞
Ava bent to lay Amy in her cradle, moving gently to not wake her up. She had begun teething, or so Maura said, and was difficult to console lately. She looked down on her with more love than she thought her heart could hold. Still so small and delicate, it seemed like she’d remain a tiny baby forever.
Jean bounded into the room, providing living proof that children grew and changed rapidly, and when no one was looking.
She turned and put her finger to her lips. “She’s sleeping,” she whispered. She was tempted to lie down and nap herself, tired as she was.
“Oh, I just wanted to let you know the mailman is here.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Can I check the box with you?”
“Yes.” She took his hand, closing the bedroom door softly and walked down the cobble path to the street. He reached in and took out a small stack of letters, dropped one and bent to pick it up. When he stood, he bumped his head on the metal door and let out a yell. He dropped all of the mail and held his head, fighting tears.
“Oh, let me see,” Ava said, bending down and pulling his hand away. There was a red spot on his forehead rising into a lump.
“I know that hurts, honey, let’s go inside and put a cool cloth on it.”
She scooped up the mail as he continued to make grunts and whimpers in a desperate attempt to be a big boy and not cry.
She smiled down on him as they walked and flipped through the letters. Stepping into the house Jean closed the door and walked off to the kitchen. Ava stood staring at a letter addressed to her. Her hands were shaking as she tore the seal and opened it. She began to read and some of the color drained from her face. Feeling lightheaded, she reached back for the side table but leaned a little too hard. It fell backward, spilling the lamp and small stack of books everywhere. Patrick’s letter slipped under the couch as Jean ran into the room to see what had fallen.
“I’m alright,” Ava said, struggling to smile. “Everything’s fine. I just bumped it, is all.” She held the letter behind her back, slowly crushing it into a ball.
∞∞∞
Ava was distracted and clumsy making dinner. Jonathan tried to talk to her about his day and most of it went unheard.
She set plates of food in front of them and turned away, ignoring Jonathan, who turned his face up in an attempt to steal a kiss.
He leaned over to Jean and whispered, “Did anything happen today?”
“I hit my head when we checked the mail.”
“Ouch. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Did anything happen with Ava?”
“No.” He sucked a long strand of spaghetti through his lips; the end flipped up and smacked his nose.
“Use your manners,” Jonathan reminded.
He gave a little pout and picked up his fork.
“Ava, do you want to get away for a little bit tonight?”
“Where am I going to go?” she asked. She hadn’t any appetite and stood washing dishes while Jon and Jean ate.
“I meant the two of us. Caleb and Arianna could watch the kids.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Jon. It’s awfully short notice. I don’t want to impose.”
“Impose? They’re our best friends. They won’t mind. We’ll offer to return the favor whenever they want.”
“Where are we going to go? I look a mess and we don’t have any money.”
“We don’t need money. And you look fine.”
“It’s getting late.”
“It’s ten after five. Look, if you don’t want to go, just say so.”
“It’s not that, Jon, I’m just…” She dropped a pot in the sink with a loud crash.
“Preoccupied?”
“Yes.”
“Well, let’s drop Jean and the baby off at Caleb’s and you can tell me about what’s bothering you. You’ll have my undivided attention.”
“I don’t know if I want to talk about it just yet.”
“Then I can have the pleasure of your company.”
“I’m sorry, Jon, I just don’t feel like going anywhere.”
“Are you sure?” He watched her carefully with worry.
“Yes. I’m sure.” She wiped her hands dry and left the room.
∞∞∞
Later that night, long after everyone had fallen asleep, Ava crept downstairs. She turned on the light and as quietly as she could, looked through the drawers to find her stationery.
Sitting down at the table after taking one last look up the stairwell, she began to write.
Stanley,
I received your letter today. In it you said that you might make a trip to Rockport in the near future and call on me. I’m sorry but that would not be a good idea. I am married now and would have a hard time explaining your sudden appearance to my husband as I have never spoken of you. I have left the past in the past and I ask that you do the same. Please don’t contact me again.
Ava
Her handwriting was sloppy; her hands shook. She read over the letter twice, still not happy with the wording, but lacking the courage to say what she really wanted to say.
“Everything okay?”
Ava jumped, dropping the pen. Jonathan stood in the doorway in his muslin shorts; tired eyes suspicious as he looked her over.
“Yes,” she said and folded the letter quickly.
“Why are you up so late?” he asked with his eyes on the letter.
“I, ah…just had some things I needed to write down. So I wouldn’t forget.”
“What things?”
“Just…things. Nothing important.”
“Okay,” he still regarded her with a lingering question.
“I’ll be along in a few minutes.”
He took a minute before he turned. “Are you sure everything’s alright?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said and began to gather up her things. “I’ll be to bed shortly.” She forced a smile.
June 1st 1931
Jonathan walked through the door yawning. It was well after dinner; the dishes had been washed and put away. Peeking in the icebox he found a plate Ava left for him as she always did when he worked late. The season was always a busy one but lower prices meant even longer hours. He was thoroughly sick of seafood but, being something he could bring home frequently that cost nothing, they ate what was available. His stomach growled as he picked at the fish on his plate, not caring that his palate craved something different and exciting.
He heard Jean’s laugh from the backyard followed by Ava’s flat, quiet voice. His furrowed brow lifted quickly as they came in the back door.
“Dadee, you’re home.”
“I’m home,” Jonathan said with a full mouth.
“Remember your manners,” Jean said with a teasing grin.
Ava walked by him holding Amy and he lifted his head up as she passed.
“Honey, I’m home,” he said.
“How was your day?” she asked as she walked out of the room.
“Fine.” Jonathan turned his attention on Jean. “What did you guys do today?”
He shrugged. “Not much. I played with Amy and we took her out to the backyard and let her get some sunshine. She likes birds. I tried to find some crickets to show her but they are all hiding.”
“Try later at sunset. They’re easier to find.”
“Ava cried today.”
Jonathan looked up. “Why?”
He shrugged again. “She told me not to worry about it.”
The frown returned as Jonathan went back to eating. “I think I might know why.”
“When you find out will you tell me?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“If it’s adult business or not.”
“But I worry.”
“I know you do, Jean. I’ll let you know if there’s anything to worry about, okay? Now go turn on the radio,” Jonathan said as Ava entered the kitchen without Amy.
“She’s been cranky all day,” she said as she filled a glass with water. “She’s napping now.”
After Jean left Jonathan motioned for her to sit down. She seemed reluctant, but did.
“Jean said you cried today.”
She blew her breath out in frustration. “I told him not to worry you with that.”
“Do you want to tell me why?”
“No.”
He nodded slowly and took another bite.
“Does it have anything to do with Patrick and Shannon leaving town so suddenly?”
She stared at him, still as stone and said, “Yes, that’s it. It was so sudden, wasn’t it?”
“You didn’t mention it last night, when I asked you what was wrong. Don’t you think I might have wanted to know that they’d gone? I had to find out from Caleb today.”
“I wasn’t feeling well and…oh, he did leave a letter for you. It’s on the table by the door.”
Jonathan rose and walked through the living room, stepping over Jean who lay on the floor listening to the radio. “Where? I don’t see anything.”
“It’s right there,” she said and walked over impatiently. “It was, anyway. It was right here, I swear. Jean, did you move that letter Patrick left?”
“No,” he said.
They searched around and under the table, opened the door and looked over the porch, finally moving the search to the kitchen.
“Maybe you put it with the stationery,” Jonathan said.
“NO!” she said, slapping her hand on the table.
He stopped, staring at her.
“I didn’t. I would remember if I had,” she said, trying to regain composure. “I’m sorry, I’m tired and it’s getting really warm. I’ll keep looking for it, okay? Why don’t you finish your dinner.”
She managed a nervous smile, keeping her distance from him.
June 7th 1931
Caleb pulled up to the house and checked the address. It was an old neglected place on the edge of town. The yard was overgrown with weeds, a few windows were busted out and the paint was peeling badly. He didn’t know who owned it and Marvin didn’t care to share. Only told him that in order to begin to repay the massive debt for the missing elixir he was going to have to start doing some jobs for him. Deliveries and pick-ups, mainly. Monkey work, as Marvin insultingly worded it, and during the last week in between fishing, farming and appeasing Arianna, he’d been traveling to the worst parts of the county, dealing with the lowest dregs of society. This was his fourth ‘job’ for Marvin.
He took the box from the passenger seat and walked it up the broken front steps. He didn’t need to knock; they’d been watching him from the window. A man who looked much older than he probably was opened the door when Caleb reached the last stair.
“You Marvin’s man?” he asked. Caleb noticed the bulge under his shirt. Obviously a pistol.
“Yeah.”
“You got the stuff?”
Caleb lifted the box he carried. “Right here.”
“Bring it in then, don’t stand out here ‘case someone comes by.”
Caleb stepped inside but not far enough to allow them to close the door behind him. It stunk of mildew and urine. Blankets covered windows. A few people lay passed out over chairs and a tattered chaise lounge. Caleb felt dirty just being here.
“You’re a quiet one,” the man said. “But that’s good. You stay outta my business and I’ll stay out of yours.” He grinned. What teeth that weren’t busted or missing were horribly stained. He handed over some cash.
“Count it if you want but Marvin trusts me. We go way back.”
“That’s fine,” Caleb said and handed over the box.
“Hey, Johnny boy, come get this and put it in the back room, would ya?”
After a moment, he turned and yelled again. “Johnny!”
Caleb turned to leave, stuffing the money in his pants pocket. He nearly sprinted back to the truck, hating what he’d gotten himself into.
The man watched him slam his door and speed off, leaving a plume of dust. He narrowed his eyes, not sure if he trusted him. Marvin was not known for being sloppy, nor was he known for enlisting anyone who was. But there was something about this guy that the man didn’t like. Something in the way he carried himself. He felt like a fraud.
“Hey, Johnny boy, didn’t you hear me calling you!” the man yelled again.
“Yeah. I was busy,” a voice called from the back of the place. “You alone?”
“Yeah, did you see the guy that was just here?”
Aryl stepped around the corner. “No, I heard him though.”
“You recognize his voice, Johnny boy? You know who he is?”
Aryl looked him right in the eyes. “Nope.”
June 10st 1931
The whole town was buzzing as Claire made her way to the newspaper office. Not only was everyone moving about a little faster than normal, they all regarded each other with awkward, skittish glances; those that walked closely were whispering. Claire almost smiled wondering what the latest scandal might be and glad that something, anything had taken the town’s talk off of Aryl returning. The temptation to smile fizzled with the thought of him. He h
ad gotten home very late the night before with no explanation for her, though she’d begged and cried for one. He’d been hard to rouse this morning and not enthusiastic about watching Jac for the bit of time she needed to check in with Muzzy.
There had been moments when she’d caught him watching the baby with wonder. Found him rocking Jac to sleep by the window. Other times he seemed irritated with the baby’s crying and didn’t want anything to do with him. This morning he had been somewhere in the middle. Distracted by his own thoughts enough that Claire had to repeat her instructions several times on when to feed Jac.
She stepped into Muzzy’s office. It smelled like ink and coffee and she liked it. She pulled two drawings from her bag as Muzzy looked up. “Oh, hi! I’m glad you’re here. I was starting to get worried.”
“Well, here I am.” She glanced at the calendar. “It’s the day before the print, sorry. I know I said I’d try to get it here two days before, but I’ve been busy.”
Muzzy was especially electrified as she worked frantically and her fingers continued to fly over the typewriter keys, even as she looked up and talked.
“Doing a special run today with what’s happened. If I try, I might can beat Boston in getting this out.”
She whirled around to grab a pad of notes, tossing a few unneeded sheets over her shoulder and resumed typing.
“What’s big enough that would cause a special run?”
The typewriter went silent. “You haven’t heard?”
“No, what?”
“What are you, living under a rock?”
She laughed. “I told you, I’ve been busy.”
“The Sheriff was found dead in his office this morning. Shot in the back of the head. His secretary found him. There’s a murderer in Rockport.”
June 13th 1931
Jonathan sat in Elle’s living room. He, like everyone else was stunned and frightened at Vincent’s death. He was growing so tired of death. Tired of black, tired of mourning. Elle walked in and Jonathan stood up.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Jon. I had to finalize some arrangements.”
