Lineage(70)

“That’s actually why I was calling. I’d like to come up and stay for a couple of days. Maybe read what you’ve written so far?”

“Oh, I see. Checking up on me so you can throw the wolves at the door a bone?”

“No, I’ll tell them to get f*cked, which is exactly what I’ve been doing since you up and disappeared.”

“Thank you for giving me some space. It was much needed. You don’t know how great it feels to be writing again.” Lance rose from the chair and meandered through the living room, toward the front entry. He had heard the now-unmistakable sound of John’s truck approaching.

“Don’t mention it. So can you text me directions, or does this weekend not work?”

“It works great, I’d love to see you, my friend. I’ll send you directions in a bit.” The two men said their goodbyes, and Lance opened the door just as John was getting out of his beat-up truck.

“Hey there, young man! Beautiful afternoon, isn’t it?” John said, stepping onto the apron before the entryway.

“It sure is.”

“Get your work in for the day?” John asked, motioning toward the alcove.

“Yes, I did, and actually I wanted to ask you, would you be interested in swinging by tomorrow evening? My friend from the cities is coming to stay for the weekend and I thought it would be nice to have a get-together.” There was only a half-second pause before John’s smile lit up his lined face.

“That’d be great, son. Need me to bring anything?”

“No, just yourself and an appetite.” John nodded and smiled again as Lance unconsciously stretched his jaw, which snapped audibly. John looked at him, concern wrinkling his brow.

“Just an old injury. Broke my jaw when I was younger and it never really healed right.” Lance smiled reassuringly, but the troubled line above the other man’s eyes didn’t recede. John looked away at the ground and seemingly searched for an overgrown patch of grass that needed trimming. When none presented itself, he looked back at Lance.

“No more problems?” John asked, tipping his head toward the house and raising his bushy eyebrows.

“No, none to speak of,” Lance said, and almost continued with and no more dreams, either. Although John had become a welcome addition to his very short list of friends, Lance still played his psychological concerns close to the chest.

“Good, good.” John’s eyes looked into the distance, across the blazing expanse of lake, and grew filmed-over. Lance watched the old man stare into something that he couldn’t see, and finally had to ask him about it.

“What do you see out there?”

John smiled sadly, and at last brought his attention back to Lance. “Just the past, son. Memories of years gone by.” A funny look flitted across John’s face, the simple caretaker’s veneer scratched by something within, although the surface remained the same. “If I can tell you one thing, son, it’s this: we are our choices, nothing else. Every decision that’s made builds a man, mortar and stone rising up out of the earth. Intentions don’t mean squat, only what we do.”

Lance tilted his head, his eyebrows drawn down. When John looked at him, he merely grimaced.

“I’m sorry, I get carried away thinking sometimes. Call it getting old. Don’t get too old, son, it’s hell on the body and mind.” John turned from Lance and headed toward his truck door. “Don’t think I’m feeling up to workin’ today, if you don’t mind,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll be round about five tomorrow if it suits you.”

Lance stood, dumbfounded, on the stoop, watching John climb into the pickup and start the engine. The caretaker’s change of mood had shifted like an unexpected tide in calm waters. Lance wondered if he’d said something to set John off, but couldn’t recall anything disturbing. Dr. Tyler’s voice floated to him out of the storage bins in his mind. Everyone has their cross to bear, Lance. Whether you can see it or not, it’s there.



The next afternoon, Lance heard the crackle of gravel in the front yard and looked at the clock above the stove in the kitchen. It was a few minutes after two. He walked into the entry and saw the flash of silver steel, as the Audi zipped out from the trees and rounded the drive, sliding to a stop in front of the house.

“Early much?” Lance said, as he watched the figure behind the wheel fumble with an object in the center console.