Chirp(14)

For now, he’d let the girl stay, but the mousers were going first thing Monday morning. She claimed to have no attachment, but he bet otherwise. Getting rid of them, combined with last night’s activities, should convince her to move on. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t throw her stuff on the lawn and make her leave, but he couldn’t. Something about the way she’d said she had nowhere to go stabbed his gut. He believed her. But she had all that money, so she could book a five-star hotel if she wanted. Wasn’t like she’d have to camp in alleys and Dumpster-dive for food.

He’d been about her age when he’d started his time. Maybe that’s why he related to her situation. There was so much that could hurt her. The threat of constant danger. He’d dealt with plenty of that. Prisoners who were bigger. Stronger. Older. No conscience. No regard for anything. That’s what prison did. It took a person’s humanity. It’d taken his for a while. His stomach clenched. If it hadn’t been for Hector, Rance would be a lifer for a crime he did commit. A chill ran up his spine.

He couldn’t bring himself to force her out. That’s why it had to be her decision. And from her expression in the hallway last night, his lifestyle would make short work of her wanting to stay. He’d left the room to keep from cuddling with Kayla. Why women wanted to continue hugging and kissing once the action was over confused him.

He lit a cigarette, inhaled a deep drag, and glanced at the oak tree near the end of the porch. Once the lumber arrived, he’d construct a makeshift shower. All he had to do was build a frame, enclose it with tarps, and mount a water hose at the top. That would solve the problem of sharing a tub and bathing around her schedule. Probably wouldn’t be for long. He had to be patient. The kid thought she could tolerate his bad habits. He knew better.

The pie was in the oven, but the kitchen was empty. As he rounded the corner to his bedroom, Blaze came out, and he gasped. She looked like a hazmat investigator gone crazy. She was covered from top to bottom in one of his grandmother’s old housecoats, the pink gingham with bright blue flowers, along with yellow rubber gloves, a dust mask, protective goggles, orange-and-green-striped knee-high socks pulled over her shoes, and a Christmas scarf printed with reindeer tied around her head. Extended away from her body like a bomb was a clothes basket holding his crumpled bedsheets.

“What the hell?”

Her voice muffled through the germ barrier and fogged her eyewear. “I’ve got to wash these. You need to empty your trash can.”

He whipped out his cell and snapped a photo. He’d never seen such a sight and couldn’t help but laugh, and once he got started, he couldn’t stop.

She pushed past him. “I should burn these.”

He wanted to say something but lost his voice. Staggering back outside, he leaned against the railing, getting control. He hadn’t laughed this hard in years.

“Trash. Emptied,” Blaze said.

He turned to face her. The instructions weren’t delivered as a demand. He’d noticed that about her. Everything she said was in the same calm monotone. Her expression was a different story. Last night in the hallway, she’d looked like a kid who’d experienced her first roller coaster ride. Come to think of it, he’d had the same sensation inside the room. He chuckled. Full-figured girls like Kayla always tried harder.

He should come back with a smart-ass retort about not dumping the can until it was full of condoms, but thought better of it. No sarcastic remark could top her getup.

“Do you have any idea how ridiculous you look?”

“Yes,” she said, then turned and disappeared into the laundry room.

Damn. She was the strangest person he’d ever met. Later, when Rance went out to meet the plumber, he noticed the kid down the road cleaning birdhouses. At least she was back in her regular clothes, something between Goth and punk. He couldn’t tell the styles apart.

After the worker left, Rance went to the kitchen and helped himself to a slice of pie. He strolled back to the porch again, sat, and listened to the sounds of nature. As he closed his lips around the first bite, memories of summers, holidays, and playing dominoes with Gran swam in his brain.

The crust, as flaky as he remembered, and the fruit drenched in brown sugar and cinnamon melted on his tongue. When he finished it, he went back for another piece. He’d skipped breakfast, and it was still hours before supper so dessert would be lunch.

From the kitchen window, he saw the delivery he’d been expecting. The young car salesman, dangling keys from his finger, met Rance halfway.

“Not sure the wash job did much good after coming down the dirt road, but the interior is still clean,” the guy said.

Rance took the keys. “That’s okay. I appreciate you bringing it.”

“All the paperwork and manuals are in the glove box. You have my number if you need anything.”

The man got in the car with the coworker who’d followed, and drove away. Rance walked around the pickup truck and climbed inside. He loved the smell of a new vehicle. He fired it up and tore out for The Roost. It was the middle of the day, but chicks waited. As he passed the kid, she didn’t even glance up.





Tom Fraser


Tom Fraser finished reading over the papers concerning the teenager’s disappearance and shoved them into his briefcase. He’d hit a stroke of luck with the original officer handling the investigation. He and Benny Hudson had known each other for years.