The Cabin at the End of the World(21)
Sabrina walks behind Leonard, turns away from everyone, and holds a hand to her forehead and then down to her mouth.
Leonard pats her shoulder once and says, “Thank you, Sabrina. Right, so as I think you know already, my name is Leonard. I’m good at catching grasshoppers, right, Wen?” He pauses, waits, and Wen nods. Leonard tilts his head and smiles. Andrew spasms in his chair against the restraints. Eric knows that Andrew wants to thrash this man for that smile and for making their daughter nod her head the way she did. “I live just outside of Chicago. I help run an after-school sports program at an elementary school, and I bartend, too. I love working with kids but the after-school program isn’t full-time yet and doesn’t pay a ton.” He pauses again, like he forgot the next line in a script. Sabrina, as far as Eric can figure, was telling the truth. He isn’t sure about Leonard. “I haven’t been to a cabin like this since my parents took me to the Lake of the Woods, which is up in Minnesota if you’ve never heard of it. Kind of a famous spot. We used to go there every summer. I read the Tim O’Brien book that was set on the lake in high school but didn’t like it very much.”
Andrew says, “It’s a brilliant novel. One of my favorites.”
Eric almost starts crying again because he loves Andrew for not being able to help himself.
Leonard says, “Yeah, but it’s too dark and sad for me. Maybe it would’ve been different if it wasn’t set at my favorite place. This is a beautiful spot, here, too.” Leonard closes his eyes, like he’s lost in the reverie of prayer. “I’ve always wanted to end up in a place like this.”
Redmond starts in, almost cutting off Leonard. “Okay. Me? Am I next? Hi there, my name is Redmond and I like long walks on the beach and I like beer.” He laughs long and loud at his own joke. The other three give him a look that glances off him to somewhere else in the room, anywhere else that isn’t Redmond. It’s a shared look communicating clearly they don’t like him.
Leonard speaks in a voice that Eric imagines he uses with the kids in his after-school program, real or imagined. “This is important. We already discussed this. They deserve to know who we are.”
Redmond jabs a hand toward Leonard as he speaks, “You’re so concerned what they think and feel when it doesn’t matter, not one bit.” He points that punctuating hand at Andrew and Eric. “No offense, fellas,” then back at Leonard, “And it doesn’t change what it is we have to do and it doesn’t change what they are going to have to do. So let’s stop pretending any of this bullshit matters and just get to it.”
Leonard says, “When you say stuff like this and sound how you sound, you scare them, and make it less likely they’ll believe us and cooperate.”
“I don’t know, Leonard.” Redmond says his name like he’s teasing, mocking him somehow. “Have you considered that breaking in, tying them to chairs, and then us standing here like a bunch of freaks, cleaning up, making house, grinning like dick-holes, and now introducing ourselves like we’re all at a goddamned family reunion or something, is what’s scaring them?”
“This is how it’s supposed to be.”
“Ah, yes, right. I guess I didn’t get that particular memo.”
“No, I guess you didn’t.”
“Of course you’re the only one who did,” Redmond mumbles, a pouting child who isn’t getting his way.
Sabrina says, “What are you talking about? We already told you that Adriane and I got the same message, too.”
Redmond’s wide face flushes to the color of his shirt. “Whatever. It still doesn’t make—”
Leonard takes a hard, floor-shaking step toward Redmond and the couch.
Redmond jumps up and raises hey-I-surrender hands. “Okay, okay, my turn it is. Hey, I’m the local boy. Live in beautiful Medford, Massachusetts.” He exaggerates a Boston accent with the long aaaah sound in the front. “I work for the gas company making sure houses and apartment buildings don’t blow up. I’m single, if you can believe that. Sabrina and Adriane don’t seem to care, though. Ha ha, right? I’ve done some time, as they say. I did a lot of, uh, questionable stuff when I was young and stupid, but I’m much better now. And I mean that sincerely.” He pauses, presses the towel to his lip, and then holds his arm out straight to his right and drops the towel. It parachutes to the couch. “You know, my father used to beat the shit out of me, like Andrew just did. Would you believe me if I said I never deserved it? I wish I could go back in time and give the kid-me this thing.” He picks up the oar with the sledgehammer and trowel/shovel blades Q-tipping each end, shakes it, like he’s sizing it up for a mighty swing. He looks at Andrew, leans the weapon against the couch, and says, “Christ, guy, all my front teeth are loose, still bleeding. Remind me not to fuck with you again. But I knew you were lying about having a gun. So fucking obvious in so many ways that you didn’t have one. The funny part is—”
Leonard shouts, “Redmond!”
“Yeah, yeah, fine. So how’s all that?” He holds his arms out wide. “Me in thirty seconds. Damaged goods but I have a heart of gold; here to help save the world and all that. Can I get a hug now, Adriane?”
Adriane walks past Redmond to the center of the room and says, “I’d rather work on that screen door for eternity.” She claps her hands and says, “I’m always the last one. I know this is so weird but—”