The Extraordinary Life of Sam Hell(91)

“Did you reach her?” Ernie asked.

I shook my head. “She’s probably staying at a hotel in Oakland rather than fight the traffic.”





2

When I pulled up to my two-story house with the cedar-shake siding, I noticed the porch light was on, as well as another light in the front living room, and was certain Eva was home. I’d given this moment some thought, about what I would say. I’d decided to wait and let Eva speak, give her the chance to at least be honest with me. If she was, I’d tell her thanks, but it was time she moved out. If she wasn’t, well, then, at least I knew who she truly was, and again, I’d ask her to move out.

When I looked to the upstairs windows I did not see a light on in the bedroom. Eva’s car was not parked in the driveway. Strange. When I climbed the front steps to the covered porch, I heard a familiar bark. When I tried to open the door, Bandit pushed his bony head between the door and the jamb, whining and whimpering with excitement. “Okay, okay, Bandit. Back up, buddy. Back up.” I stepped in and looked about the room while squatting to pet Bandit and scratch his sides. I didn’t see any suitcases. Bandit’s tail whipped the air. “Mickie?” I called out. “Eva?”

No one answered. I saw a slip of paper on the tile counter beside the answering machine.

Thought you might need some company.





M


Mickie, checking up on me.

The blinking red light on the answering machine drew my finger toward the button, but I changed my direction to the pantry. “You hungry, Bandit?” His tail whipped vigorously. When Mickie traveled, I watched her boys, which was what she called her dogs. I kept a bag of dog food in the pantry. Eva did not like pets. She reacted to any piece of dog hair on her clothing as if it was radioactive. I wondered if she’d come home but left when she encountered Bandit, but there was no sign she’d been in the house.

Bandit’s whimpering became more pronounced at the sight of the food bag. I filled his metal bowl and barely got it to the floor before he dunked his huge jowls and began crunching. I filled a second bowl with water and set it out of harm’s way; Bandit tended to slide his bowl all over my tile floor seeking every nugget. As I watched the big dog eat, I sensed the red light blinking behind me. When he’d finished, Bandit looked up at me with his dark, expectant eyes. “Sorry, buddy. Mickie says one bowl. You’re getting too fat.”

The skin above his eyes wrinkled in disappointment.

“I know. Women, right?” I opened the back door to the yard. “Okay, time for both of us to take care of our business.”

Bandit bounded out. I left the door open so he could get back in and made my way to the answering machine. When I hit the button, a computerized voice indicated there had been a power failure. Then the machine retrieved the stored messages. The first message was left at 4:12 p.m., before the earthquake. Eva.

“Hey, Sam, just wanted to let you know that my flight landed, and I’m on my way home. Looking forward to seeing you.”

I didn’t have a lot of time to react or analyze the message, because the machine beeped and the second message began playing. Mickie.

“Hey, it’s me. I know you went to the game with Ernie, but I saw that it got canceled, and I’m checking up on you. I left Bandit at the house to keep you company. I hope you’re all right. I’m fine. A couple cracks in my plaster in the living room, but otherwise no damage. Okay, I’m rambling. Call me and let me know you’re okay. Love you.”

The machine beeped a third time. I awaited the next message, the one from Eva calling to tell me that traffic was a bitch, and she’d decided to spend the night at a hotel in the East Bay, but there was no voice, just a hang up. The stilted, computerized voice indicated no further messages. I was about to walk off when the phone rang. Isn’t it always like that? Your ears must have been burning. Or I was just thinking of you. I took a deep breath, cleared my throat, and answered. “Hello?”

“Sam?”

“Eva?”

“No, Sam, I’m sorry, this is Meredith.”

Eva’s mother. “Meredith?” It dawned on me that she would be worried. They lived in Southern California and had obviously heard the news about the earthquake. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t . . . Listen, Eva called and left a message that her flight landed. I’m sure she’s in a hotel somewhere because the roads are a mess here, as you can imagine. The phone lines have been down.”

“Eva’s not in a hotel, Sam.”

“Did she call you?”

Meredith was weeping. She could not continue. I heard someone take the phone.

“Sam?” Eva’s father, Gary Pryor. “We got a call, Sam.” He paused. He, too, was fighting tears. “They found Eva’s car, Sam. They found it underneath the freeway.”





3

Gary Pryor told me he would catch a plane to San Francisco in the morning and asked that I pick him up at the airport. He said someone needed to identify Eva’s body. I wrote his flight information on the back of Mickie’s note because I knew I would not remember any of our conversation. Then I hung up and stumbled to the couch. Bandit’s paws clicked on the tile floor as he trotted in from the backyard, but he did not jump onto the couch or force his head into my hands to be petted. Sensing a mood change, he lowered his head and padded forward, his tail silent. When he got close, he stopped again, waiting for some sign. Did I want his comfort?