Cruel World(41)

When he entered the house, Alice was giving Ty a bath, the door partially open. She noticed him in the hallway and turned from where she knelt beside the tub.

“Saw the lights come on and thought I’d better get the rug rat clean before we go. No telling when he’ll get another hot bath. Thank God for instant hot water heaters, huh?”

“That’s for sure,” Quinn said, leaning the dowel against the wall. She looked down at it then back to his face.

“I told you you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. I saw it and…it only took a minute.”

Alice started to say something else but stopped and turned back to Ty who was gathering bubbles before him like a sudsy blanket and running his palms over the top, popping many as he did so. Quinn hesitated for a moment and then went to the kitchen and began to clean the dirty dishes in the sink.

When the dishes were clean, he swept the floor and wiped down the counters, his hands having to do something as his thoughts wandered. Besides, Mallory and Graham would’ve hated seeing the kitchen this dirty.

No sounds came from down the hall. It was as if his guests had already left, the house was empty again, and he was alone. He dumped the dustpan into the garbage and stared out the window at the beautiful spring day. The trees were motionless and he could make out a few faint buds of green and red at the tips of their branches. The forest would change fast from a skeletal domain to an emerald expanse, hiding the house from the rest of the world until fall stripped the trees bare again. The snows would come along with the wind that never seemed to quit blowing during the winter. And where would he be? Here. In the house by himself, huddled around the fireplace eating whatever canned good he could find. And where would they be?

The sound of Alice entering the room brought him free of his trance and he turned to her.

“We’re pretty much ready to go,” she said. Her voice was even. Not unkind but not friendly either.

“I’m coming with you.” The words had escaped him before he knew he’d spoken, and only the startled look on Alice’s face made him realize what he’d said. “I mean, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to come with. At least to Portland. There’s barely any food left here, and I’m going to have to go at some point.”

“No.” Her reply was flat, and she crossed her arms as if barricading herself against any argument.

“You don’t trust me,” Quinn said, setting the broom and dustpan aside.

“I don’t trust anyone except that little guy in the other room.”

“If I had wanted to hurt you, I could’ve last night while you slept.”

“You could’ve tried. The thing is, I don’t know you or what your game is.”

“I don’t have a game.”

“Everyone has a game.”

“What’s yours?”

Alice looked away at the wall and then back at him. “Keeping my son alive.”

“I can help. If there’s as many of those things as you say there are, then you’ll need backup. Especially once you get into town.”

“We don’t need anyone. Do you understand?”

She spun on her heel and was about to the leave room but stopped short as Ty entered the doorway, tapping the area in front of him with the dowel.

“I found this in the hall. Did you make this for me, mom?”

Quinn held his breath, looking from Alice to Ty’s small face. The boy moved the dowel around and prodded his mother’s foot with it.

“Mom?”

Her shoulders dropped, and she reached out, rubbing Ty’s damp hair with her fingers.

“No, Quinn made it for you.”

“Oh. Thanks, Quinn! It works really good!”

“You’re welcome, Ty.”

The boy felt his way out of the kitchen and disappeared into the living room. Alice stood like a statue for a long minute before she faced him again.

“Just to Portland. After that we’ll find another vehicle for us and we part ways. Got it?”

Quinn nodded, and Alice left him standing alone in the gentle sunshine of the kitchen.

~

He spent the rest of the morning gathering anything of use outside while Alice packed the Tahoe with blankets and towels as well as gallon jugs full of water she filled from the kitchen tap. Quinn brought the gas cans from the back of the Tahoe to Graham’s garage as well as a screwdriver and hammer. He laid beneath the small sports car and pounded a hole through the bottom of the gas tank, letting it drain slowly into a large bread pan he found in the house before transferring it to a can. When the cans were full, he hauled them out to the main drive, leaving them there for when they left. The wind rose and whistled through the bare branches of the trees, its touch chilling him as he walked down the drive. He was leaving his home for the very first time. The thought brought goose bumps to his arms. He rubbed them away, but there was no way to calm the excited knot that had formed in his stomach. Even with the layer of heavy grief covering him and the insecurity the outside world offered, the sense of freedom was tangible, like something he could almost grasp and pull out of the cool air.