Winter Loon(81)

We stood together, me and Troy, at the end of the sidewalk leading up to the house. Lights glowed gold in the windows, and I remembered the first time Jolene dragged me in to summon the ghosts of our dead mothers out of a game board. “I loved her from the moment I saw her,” I said, not taking my eyes off the house where she lived.

“Plant your feet, Wes. Loosen your arms. It’s going to come at you. You need to be ready.” He shoved me again. This time I stepped right.



RUBY’S MURDER WEAPON, THE PLYMOUTH, was turned over to me. But the groove Gip’s backside made on the bench seat felt like quicksand, and when I gripped the rubbed ten-and-two spot where Ruby held the wheel, I felt the clench she had on it that night and the force with which she hit her own husband, then hit him again. Worst of all was looking out the windshield, seeing Gip’s face there like a twisted hood ornament. Troy went with me and I traded it in for a mint-green sedan that had never run over a soul. “Better gas mileage,” he said. “You’ll be glad for that. Trust me.”

I went over to the burned lot one last time to kick through the ashes, to walk inside the soot-stained blocks. What was there was gone. I rubbed my hands in the char, turned them black with everything destroyed in the fire. I was tempted to black my eyes, to prepare myself for battle as bright as the sun. Instead, I picked up a piece of coal by the front stoop and wrote on the last wall standing, “Wes Ballot Was Here.”



I STOPPED BY LESTER’S HOUSE the night before I left Loma. He was sitting in the Impala listening to the radio. I slid into the passenger seat.

“Heading out tomorrow,” I said. “Thought I’d come over and say goodbye.” I’d paid Lester off for the fender damage with the bank money, throwing in a little extra when he complained I wouldn’t be around to help with the work.

“What about school?” he asked. “Listen to me. I sound like Troy.”

“School will be there. This feels more important right now.”

He shrugged. “Be careful out there in the big bad world, man. Sure you don’t want old Lester to go along with you?”

“Going this one alone, I’m afraid. Thanks for the offer, though,” I said.

Lester reached into the back seat and took a beer from a little cooler. “One more here. You want it?”

“Sure,” I said.

He shook the can before handing it to me with a grin. I pulled the tab and the foam rolled out over the edge and onto my hand.

“You’re an asshole,” I said. “You know that, right?”

“I know. Don’t get that on the seat.”

“So Troy said you got a job?”

“Almost, man. Ray has a plow driver with a broken leg. Make me some bank this winter, son.”

“Cool.”

Three kids rode by on two bicycles, a boy and girl doubled up on one banana seat. The sun was low in the sky and their shadows were long and alien. “Remember being like that?” Lester asked. “No shits to give? No idea what time it was? Nobody wanting a goddamned thing from you? I’d ride my bike in the dead of winter to be out of the house. Freedom, man.”

My childhood hadn’t been like that and I felt it again, listening to Lester, watching the kids as they disappeared around a corner, bundled for winter but acting like it would always be summer for them. Something had been denied me, and I decided then it was that freedom Lester saw. I’d been a fearful boy. Now, there I was, grown tall, filled out, shaving stubble on a face that looked like my father’s.

“I gotta get going. Thanks for the beer.” I dropped the can on the floor and got out of the car.

“Yeah, I guess I ought to go in, too, before I run the battery down.”

Lester met me between our two cars.

“Do me a favor, will you?” I asked.

“Sure, man. You name it.”

“Watch over Jolene for me. Not that she needs it. Just. Remind her every once in a while that I’m out there, that I’m coming back.”

“You got it. But I’m curious. How long exactly does she have to wait around for you before I get to go in and pick up the pieces, work my Lester charm on her?” He grinned and ducked away, knowing a punch was coming.

“I mentioned that you are an asshole, right?”

We hugged, pounded each other’s backs hard.

“Take care of yourself, Wes.”

“You, too, man. You, too.”



JOLENE CAME TO ME QUIETLY in the night. I woke with her hand on my mouth and her face next to mine. She led me to her bedroom, her finger to her lips as we snuck past Mariah, sound asleep. We didn’t speak a word to each other, not a single one. In the darkness, my head buried in the fragrant curve of her neck, I prayed to a god I didn’t trust. Let this not be a mistake. Let me not lose her, too.





CHAPTER 23

GOODBYES HAD BEEN said the night before, so at dawn all that was left for me to do was to leave. It was the hardest thing I had ever done. Ghosts were all around me as I walked out that door with the screen Troy had finally fixed after Sparky crawled under the porch to die on his own terms. I’m sure Mona and Troy were in bed behind their closed door, smelling the bacon and eggs Jolene cooked for me, listening to our whispers, giving us space to let go of each other.

“I have to go.”