Deception Creek Page 3

  * * *

  The teenager walked with the light step of joy on the way to their secret place. Their spot was a short distance from the road, but difficult to reach. There was no worn path. Plus, to get there, you’d have to get wet. Tucked away on the far side of the creek, past thick underbrush, and under the protection of a large Virginia Pine, they would collapse to the ground, fumble with their clothes, and slip into each other’s passion.

  The girl hummed as she maneuvered over the embankment toward the creek. Thinking ahead, she imagined getting a little wet before he arrived. The cold mountain water would purse her nipples to excitement. She knew how to drive him crazy. But there was little he could do in the shallows. They would be visible to the cars that occasionally drove by. He would have to think about her, look at her, want her. She thought about his excitement too, and how she’d wait until he made the request, until he asked if she wanted to lie under the tree on last year’s discarded needles. She could imagine the feel of the needles stuck to the sweat and skin at the small of her back.

  For spring, the sun blistered the air. Gnats circled one another in bunches, levitating over the weeds. The rough bark of saplings slid against her palms as she used them to steady her decline.

  She had been a nobody at school until he became interested in her. She could not dress like the other girls, could not join in on school trips that cost extra money, and had long ago quit accepting invitations to birthday parties. Even as a child, the gifts that her family could afford were too embarrassing. Was it her poverty that had kept her alone or her propensity for being alone that kept her in emotional poverty? None of that mattered to her now.

  As irony would have it, her attitude and demeanor changed once she fell in love. She became a brighter soul and let her physical beauty bloom as well. In less than a year, it appeared she had become desirable. Other boys began to ask her out. The tug of her past held her back from the popular crowd, but she explored others who had grown up like her, shunned or shy or simply loners.

  This day, the sun reflected her brightness. She had a story to tell and a plan as to when to tell it. She had the glimpse of an escape from elderly parents, a cluttered trailer, and a life of loneliness. Today, her life would change. She had hope—more than hope. With him as a partner, she’d have normalcy in her life.

  She brushed at swarming gnats near her face and trotted a little way along the gravel edge of the creek. The shallow water, warmed by sun, soaked into her sneakers and socks, then dampened the hem of her skirt. The air blown over the deeper, colder, part of the creek was already doing its work on her body. The skin on her arms tightened. She hugged herself.

  As usual, she arrived a bit early and he would be a bit late. She never minded the wait. It gave her time to get ready, to think of him, to relax, to imagine herself naked under the tree, his body heat warming her in a protective cocoon. Imagining him, she could feel his hands near her shoulders and his thighs plunged between hers. She easily sensed the feel of his fingers separating hers as they would make love hand in hand.

  “My love,” she said, fondling the newly budding leaf of a butternut tree.

  Chapter 3

  A heavy fog lay over the valley Monday morning. Beyond the shed and the first few rows of trees, the air thickened with a pale gray mist, eliminating all evidence of a world beyond that point. Billy cleaned up and dressed before Alice stirred. He fixed a quick cup of instant coffee and stepped outside where the mist fell over him like a second shower. Under the coolness of the morning air, he could feel heat and humidity and knew what the lifted fog would bring.

  He leaned against the truck fender and sipped his coffee, looking into the nothingness over the trees. He fought back an urge to drive into the mountains, all the way to Bradford Ridge, where he could peer down over the ocean of fog, knowing the drowning town of Wyoming, Pennsylvania, lay under it.

  Out the corner of his eye, Billy saw the kitchen light go on. He wandered back into the house. “Good morning, Mom.”

  “Good morning, Billy. Sleep well?”

  “I did.”

  “You were out late with your friends.” She smiled. Her hair was pulled back and her housecoat tied firmly around her waist. “You were with Karla?” Her eyebrows rose. “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “We broke up.”

  “Oh, honey,” Alice started toward him with her arms open.

  Holding the coffee cup away from his body, Billy let her hug him. “Don’t make it a big deal.”

  “You’re not going to try to get her back?”

  “No.” He kissed the top of her head. “I gotta go.”

  “Have a good first day,” she yelled after him.

  Coffee spilled onto the floor of the truck as he climbed into the cab. “Shit,” he said, setting the cup on the dash. He leaned over to open the glove compartment, found a napkin, and bent down to clean up the spill before starting the engine.

  As the sun rose, the mountains to his left became visible through the fog. The mountain tops showed through first, then the silhouette of trees, finally, slowly, fields appeared along the road. A strip of fog remained across the middle of Pine Creek Mountain like a belt made of cotton balls. The nearer he got to town the less fog obstructed his view.

  St. Matthew’s Church, where he was to start work, stood out as the tallest building at the north end of town.

  “She-it!” Hillman Stutz yelled and did a little jump step to get out of Billy’s way.

  Billy opened his door before turning off the ignition. “Hey, I wasn’t that close to you.”

  “No, but you sure scared the hell outta me,” Hillman said. “So how are ya, kid? You haven’t got one of them easy college jobs yet?” He held out his hand and Billy took it.

  “Not yet,” Billy said. “Upper classmen have first pick. Besides I like you guys.” He slapped Hillman’s shoulder, then walked with him to the group congregated at Harry’s truck, where the job list would be posted.

  “Good,” Harry said when he saw Billy. “You’ll be working with Mel.” He taped the list to the passenger side window.

  “What, no hello? How are you?” Billy said.

  Harry turned and Billy noticed deep bags under the man’s eyes and the lines around his mouth. Harry smiled. “Well, hello, Billy. How’s it hangin’?” His smile disappeared. “And by the way, you’ll be workin’ with Mel.”

  Billy nodded.

  Before he could meet up with Mel, Scott Pierce grabbed his shoulder. “How are you, Billy? It’s good to see you again.”

  “How’s your house going? Finished?” When Billy left for school the first time, Scott had started clearing land for a house on some property his grandfather had left him. The property lay back in the woods; it had taken Scott over a year just to remove the trees and stumps. The next year, Scott had laid the foundation and framed it out.

  “Not finished, but going great. Come out and see it,” Scott said, backing away.

  “Will do.” Billy waved his hand and headed toward Mel.

  Melvin Hammer was stocky, short, and bushy headed. As Billy remembered, Mel wasn’t the hardest worker on Harry’s team but was one of the most skilled. Billy figured he could outwork Mel but first would have to learn the job. “What are we up to?”

  “College kid miss the assignment ‘cause he was talkin’ in class?” Mel joked.

  “It’s my first day, Professor Hammer. I’m confused.”

  Mel pointed at him. “Well, don’t let it happen again, or I’ll use the switch on you,” he said. “Do they still use switches?”

  “Don’t know. What do your kids tell you?”

  “Teachers are scared of my kids,” Mel said, guffawing. “They takes after me.”

  “Billy shook his head and smiled. He followed Mel to the back of the church.

  “Well, there it is,” Mel spread his arms at the broken facade of the church’s back wall. “Got hit pretty bad by the storm.”

  “Shit,” Billy said. “Who the hell
’s that up there?”

  A man in a harness was walking along the edge of the highest peak. He held the tie rope in his hand.

  “Some crazy idiot Harry hired.”

  “That takes balls,” Billy said.

  “No fear. That’s what it takes,” Mel said.

  Billy shook his head.

  “Come on, let me show you what needs to be done.” Mel walked over to the sand pile and began to mix a batch of mortar, showing Billy how it was done. “Look here. The mud’s got to have the right consistency or it’ll run down the side of the brick.”

  “I get to help with skilled labor this year?” Billy said.

  Mel gave him a sideways glance, then began to show him how to apply the mud and integrate the old bricks with the new.

  Billy worked hard to keep up with Mel. Either Mel had toughened up or Billy had weakened sitting on his butt studying. By the time noon came along, Billy felt whipped.

  “Lunch!” Mel yelled. He threw down his trowel right where he stood.

  Billy laughed and laid his own trowel down. Much of the morning had been spent measuring and leveling. When Billy backed up he realized how little had been done.

  “You’re doin’ fine, Billy,” Mel said. “Can’t find skilled labor ‘cause of the disaster this spring. I hope Harry’s payin’ you better this summer.”

  “Don’t even know,” Billy said.

  “You’ll find out Friday,” Mel told him. “Now let’s get some lunch.”

  “Deal.”

  The crew decided on submarine sandwiches and Tim Slater went to pick them up. Billy put in his order and waited near the water keg on the back of Harry’s truck. He wet his face and wiped his damp hands on his pants. Tim was back in a flash. Instead of hanging with the rest of them, Billy took his sandwich to his truck and sat on the tailgate. He noticed Scott walking over, then stop abruptly. Billy felt a presence behind him and turned.

  The man standing near him had black curly hair, a dark complexion, and brown eyes. Although built strong, the man also looked and moved as though he was limber and wiry — like a prize fighter might be. He held his hand out to Billy. “Jack Roberts.”

  “You’re the guy from the top of the church.”

  Jack nodded. “Mind if I sit?”

  “Not at all,” Billy said.

  Jack sat down and removed a peanut butter sandwich from a paper bag that looked on the verge of disintegrating. He put down a mason jar filled with water. He stared straight ahead, saying nothing.

  Billy wondered why Jack came over if he wasn’t going to speak. “Work here long?”

  Jack laughed for a moment. “Nope.”

  Billy waited for more, but Jack just stared. “You’re not scared up there?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not? You could fall.”

  “You fall off the sidewalk very often?”

  “No.”

  “Sidewalk’s narrower.”

  “True, but not so far up. Just the thought of falling would put me off balance.”

  “You’re right,” Jack said. “Your thoughts make you fearful. A man can go through just about anything if he’s careful of his thoughts.”

  Billy turned to look at Jack. “I think I just heard something profound, but I’m not sure.”

  Jack’s head lowered. “Nope. Just simple.” Jack had finished his lunch. “Well, better get back to work. Nice meeting you.” Jack nodded and slid down from the truck.

  Billy put up the tailgate and joined Mel in back of the church.

  After work, Billy glanced at his hands. His palms were sore and dry. On the way home he stopped in at London’s.

  “Can’t stay away?” Vicki asked.

  “I love the food,” Billy said.

  She walked to the counter. “The food picks up the flavors of whatever was on the grill before it,” she said. “I hear it can be pretty tasty.”

  “I bet.”

  “You’re not here for dinner, though,” she said.

  He raised his hands, palms out. “Need a pair of gloves.”

  “Ouch. You could use some hand cream, too.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Hand cream’s down the far left aisle. Gloves in the third one over in back.” She pointed.

  “Went to see Larry over at the tackle shop yesterday,” Billy said, setting his items on the counter.

  “He told me.”

  “Oh.” Billy searched his pockets for change.

  “Thanks,” Vicki said. “Come back soon.”

  “Thank you.” Billy turned to leave.

  “I meant it,” she said.

  When Billy got home, Alice was making dinner. Billy took a shower and applied the hand cream, letting it soak into his sore fingers and palms. He put on fresh clothes and wandered into the kitchen to greet Alice. “Have a good day at work?”

  “Hello, honey. Yes, I did.” She fumbled with a head of lettuce. “Nothing fancy tonight. Meat loaf, potatoes, and salad.”

  “Sounds good. Hey, you need any help?”

  “Almost finished.” She brought the salad and set it in front of him. Then she brought his dinner plate full and steaming. “It’s hot. You might want to eat your salad first,” she said watching him.

  Billy, a little unnerved by her staring, asked, “Aren’t you going to eat?”

  “Of course.” She brought her plate and salad to the table. “There,” she said, sitting down. “So how was your first day?”

  Billy showed her his hands.

  “Oh, goodness. What happened?”

  “Forgot to bring gloves. I should have known better.”

  “What do they have you doing? Working in a rock pile?”

  “I’m working with Mel. Brick-laying.” He could see she was getting agitated. He wondered what was bugging her.

  “He’s the one, you told me, who always complains about his wife. He and those boys of his?”

  “Maybe he changed. He didn’t say one word about her all day.”

  “People don’t change,” she said.

  “Sure they do.” Billy thought about how he had changed over the last few years, and how Alice appeared to be twice as unstable as the year before.

  Alice turned her head. “I don’t want them to change.” She had tears in her eyes.

  “What’s going on?” Billy asked. “You don’t want who to change?”

  “Nothing. You’re probably right. People change. Well, I know you’re right. I accept that. So there.”

  Billy wondered what was going on, but was tired and wanted to relax, perhaps take a walk instead of getting into it with her.

  Alice ate quietly as though nothing had happened. “Is there a lot of work to do down there? I hear noise all day,” she said.

  “Yeah, it’s pretty busy. Harry’s hired all kinds of new guys.”

  She leaned closer to him as though interested in what he had to say. He looked into her eyes and saw nothing of the earlier outbreak. “They hired one guy just to climb to the steeple. He’s not afraid of anything, it seems. He climbs out onto the roof and just walks around like he’s on the ground.”

  “Pretty amazing,” she said. “There must not be many people who can… can.” She stared through him.

  “Mom?”

  “Sorry,” she smiled broadly and Billy wondered at what point one would know that a person needed psychological help. “You were saying that there are not many people who can do that. And you’re right. I haven’t tried, but I figure I’d probably be scared as hell.”

  He scraped his fork over his plate to get the last of the potatoes. “Then he comes over and wants to have lunch with me. God knows why he picked me out of the crowd, but he did.” Billy kept talking, hoping to keep Alice listening, rather than working something over in her own head. “He’s odd, though. Not much of a conversationalist. Just sat there most of the time. Ate a peanut butter sandwich and drank a jar of water. Not too fancy. Doesn’t seem to own a car either, ‘cause he walked home. I think so, anyway. About a
ll I got was his name. Jack.”

  “Jack?” her voice rose.

  “Yeah. Jack Roberts.”

  She wrung her hands and glanced around the table as if she’d lost something. She stood up from the table and grabbed their plates to clean them at the sink. She gritted her teeth, then opened her mouth as though she were going to say something, but Billy cut her off.

  “What’s the deal with Jack? You know him?”

  Alice rushed at Billy and grabbed hold of his shoulders, shaking him. “He’s dangerous. Please, stay away from him.” Tears streamed from her eyes. She lowered her head into his chest. “Tell me,” she said, “that you will avoid him.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Please, for me, just think about it.”

  “Fine with me.” He knew from past experience whenever he said he’d think about something, he almost always did what she wanted. He tried to dismiss the thought. “I’ve got to take a walk, Mom.”

  He grabbed a light jacket and headed out the door. He didn’t get his mother’s reaction and wished he could call Sam just for the contact with someone sane. But the house phone was in Alice’s room. Not only did she act nuts, there was little privacy. He missed Sam and Joey and all the other friends he’d made at college. Missed their long talks. His old high school buddies, the ones who had stayed in Wyoming, weren’t the same, or he wasn’t the same. Even Karla wasn’t the same. It was like a thin layer of skin had grown over the feelings he had had for his old friends — even those he had had for his mom.

  * * *

  He walked to the boarding house, grabbing a quick hamburger along the way. He ate slowly, turning his sandwich in his hands, mimicking the doubt and confusion he felt concerning his original plans. He could leave town or stay. There would be minimal paperwork. And, at this stage, there would be little effect on anyone’s life. He could stop here. Go away. Leave well enough alone.

  Without the construction noise, Wyoming fell silent except for light traffic and the hollow sound of people calling to one another in recognition. A pickup would move slowly through town, the driver would see a friend, neighbor, or coworker, and yell out his window, “Hey, Buzz.” The driver would wave and Buzz would wave. There would be no other exchange. At first, the yelling shocked him. In prison a yell, or even a grunt, meant something very different than it did here, where the thread of sound and waving back and forth was all part of an interconnection he felt disconnected from. He shied from such contact, turned his head away from it. He didn’t want to be recognized. Not yet. Not by just anyone.