Burnt River (4 page)

“Mom, the phone.”

“You’ll give it right back?”

“Of course I will.”

She started to hand it over. “You realize he’s gone now. Nothing you do will change that.”

“Stop saying he’s dead. You’re scaring me.”

Annie dropped the phone on Jessie’s lap and turned to the window. “You should be scared.”

The phone was warm from being held so tightly in her mother’s hands. Jessie turned it over and read what was on the screen.

I’m sorry, Annie. John gave me no choice. He had to die.

Jessie reread the words to herself several times before whispering them aloud. In the otherwise silent room they sounded like a prayer. Annie slapped at the air in front of her, trying to catch a mosquito. Everyone in Wilmington Creek knew Annie was unwell. She’d been diagnosed with bipolar disorder in her teens and had been living on a changing cocktail of medication ever since. But it was the early onset of dementia that took everyone by surprise. Not that anything could have been done if they had realized what was going on. In an attempt to hold on to reality, Annie began to obsess over writing down every thought that came into her head. Jessie remembered the look on her father’s face when he came across the stacks of notebooks hidden in the back of the cupboard under the stairs. They’d pored through them together while Annie pounded at the locked office door. She remembered events from more than fifty years earlier like they happened yesterday. The only thing she ever wanted from the store was writing pens and paper. Three years on, and her fingers were stained black and her eyes ruined.

Jessie tried phoning her brother, but there was no response.

“This is just a sick joke,” she repeated.

Annie ripped into her cuticles with her teeth. “I have to decide what to wear to John’s funeral. Everything I have is so big now. I want to look nice.”

“There isn’t going to be a funeral. John is alive.”

Annie grabbed her daughter’s chin and twisted it upward so their eyes met. “Why don’t you just believe me this once? It’s not a competition. You and Jeremy don’t have to be right all the time.”

Jessie tore her mother’s hand away. “John isn’t dead.”

“Call Jeremy if you don’t believe me. He always seems to know what’s going on around here.”

Jessie poked at the keypad absentmindedly. Doubt crept through the curtains with daylight. Jessie worked hard to hold it back. John was alive. He was home now. He was finally safe.

Annie paced in front of the backlit curtains. “Come on now. Call Jeremy. What are you afraid of?”

Jeremy answered on the first ring. “Hi, sweetheart,” he said softly, swallowing back something.

There was an eruption in the pit of Jessie’s stomach. Jeremy’s voice was wrong. It was soft. Jeremy was never soft. Jeremy was like a bull. He didn’t so much enter rooms as crash into them. He didn’t so much talk to people as bully them. Jessie closed her eyes. She already knew her mother was right. Jeremy never called her
sweetheart
.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“In town. There’s been some trouble.”

“It’s John, isn’t it? Something has happened.”

“I’ll be home shortly. I’ll tell you everything then.”

“Is he really dead?”

Jeremy’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry you heard from someone else. I should have been the one…”

Jessie let out a sharp cry. “When?”

“In the middle of the night.”

“Someone texted Mom using John’s phone.”

“Christ. How’s Annie?”

Jessie lowered her voice. “She’s in my room.”

“What’s she doing?”

“Pacing. She’s real upset.”

“I’m coming straight home.”

“Why is this happening?”

“I don’t know, Jessie. I honestly don’t know.”

*   *   *

Annie Dalton took hold of the curtains and laughed. “I told you I was right about John.”

Jessie read the message again. It felt like her heart was being wrung dry. She couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. She had no words. Her mother swung upward and pulled the drapes wide. As if caught in stage lights, she opened her arms to the rising sun.

“It’s a good day to die. Don’t you think?”

“Shut up.”

“Come on, look at that amazing view. Who could be sad on a day like today?”

Jessie jumped out of bed and shoved Annie against the closet, slapping her before grabbing her long face. The bones were there for everyone to see. If Jessie knew anything about anatomy she could have labeled them all.

“I told you to shut up.”

A smile played on Annie’s lips. “And I told you your brother was dead.”

Jessie was screaming. “Not another word. I’m tired of this. We all are.”

Annie sank down to the floor and curved her ink-stained fingers around her skull. Jessie couldn’t stop shaking. She crawled back into bed and curled up in a ball beneath the blankets. There was a crude tattoo of a rose on the back of her hand. She always scratched at it when she was upset. She had no memory of the night she visited the tattoo parlor in Reno. Her daughter had been conceived in that same fog. Tara was now six years old. It had been a year since Jessie’d had her last drink, four years since she last used meth. The fog was finally starting to lift.

Somewhere in the house a door sighed on its hinges. Tara was awake. John had promised to take her riding. He’d mentioned something about going to see a pony a friend was selling. Jessie checked the time. It was still early. There was no rush. Then she remembered that John wasn’t taking Tara anywhere. She dug her nails into the rose tattoo and felt the skin break.

Annie spoke slowly. “John was my only son. I loved him more than anything.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have hit you.”

“You’re not the first. You won’t be the last.”

“You’re not well. None of this is your fault.”

“When I couldn’t get pregnant, Jeremy said I was to blame, but he was the one with the problem.” She lowered her voice. “You and your brother proved that. You saved me.”

“I’ve never saved anyone.”

Annie rose to her feet and brushed herself off. The downstairs television had been switched on. Tara always watched it with the volume turned up high. Jessie and her brother John had done the same thing when they were young. It drowned out the sound of their parents arguing.

“I wanted to shout the truth from the rooftops, but by then I’d learned to keep my mouth shut. You were the one thing Jeremy couldn’t take from me.”

Jessie got out of bed and picked through the clothes she’d dropped on the floor the night before. “Tara is awake. I have to get dressed.”

“You let her watch too much television. She’ll turn out to be nothing if you’re not careful.”

Jessie was thinking she might let Tara spend the rest of the day in front of the television. She wouldn’t notice time passing. She wouldn’t remember promises made and broken. She had an entire life ahead of her to feel pain. It didn’t have to be today.

“Leave Tara alone. She’s fine where she is.”

Annie stared out the window. Her eyes were clear. For the first time in ages she sounded completely lucid. “We’ve got company coming. I better go and make some coffee. It’s going to be a difficult day for all of us.”

Her mother slammed the door shut as she left the bedroom. Jessie turned to the window and watched four vehicles make their way up the long driveway. From a distance it looked as if they were coupled like train carriages. Lights flashed. Dust kicked up in their wake. They were coming whether they were welcome or not. Jessie felt like she was on the cusp of waking but still caught in a dream. John couldn’t really be dead. He was her twin, her best friend and her protector. He was a foot taller than her and could throw her over his shoulder and run for miles if he wanted to. His hands were freakishly large. He used to palm her head like a basketball.

The cars pulled into the driveway and the flashing lights went out. She watched her father walk across the gravel drive, hitching up his trousers as he went. Seconds later his voice filled the house. He called out Jessie’s name with a sense of resignation that left her cold. She hesitated in her bedroom, her fingers hovering above the door handle. Jeremy barely tolerated having her in the house. It had always been John who stood up for her, encouraged their father to be more patient, to show more forgiveness. Jessie stepped away from the door. She was still wearing the T-shirt she’d slept in. Her dark, unwashed hair fell across her face. She couldn’t go downstairs looking like this. Her father called for her again and she reached for a pair of shorts hanging off the back of a chair. Her mother started screaming before Jessie had a chance to put them on. She bolted from the room, banging her hip hard against the doorframe as she cut the corner. She caught glimpses of her parents through the banister as she made her way downstairs. Annie had Jeremy by the throat. Wade had hold of Jeremy’s right arm as her father’s left struck out blindly at Annie, knocking a bronze statue of a horse from where it sat on a shelf.

“Because of you, Jeremy. My son is dead because of you.”

A uniformed officer grabbed hold of Annie and she swung an elbow back, hitting him hard on the cheek. Another officer locked his arms around her so tightly she could barely move. She kicked at Jeremy as he lunged toward her, striking him hard in the breastbone with her bare foot. At that point there was little they could do to subdue him. He was a bull. Two officers piled on top of him while Wade begged both him and Annie to calm down.

Jessie took the rest of the stairs two at a time. The living room was empty and the television turned off. Jessie opened all the cupboards, looking for her daughter. The lilt in her voice had returned.

“It’s okay, Tara. You can come out now.”

Aiden Marsh appeared at the door. “Tara’s being looked after outside. If it’s any comfort, I don’t think she saw any of it.”

Jessie bit her lip. She couldn’t keep her hands still. She let out a sharp cry and leaned against the back of the sofa. She felt winded.

Aiden put a hand on her shoulder. “Just take a second to calm yourself down.”

She covered her ears. There was a constant roar. Her father and mother were trading insults through the closed door that separated the entryway from the kitchen. Wade was trying his best to talk sense into Jeremy, but it wasn’t working.

Jessie shook her head. “I don’t have a second.”

“Tara is all that really matters right now, and she’s fine. You take that second.”

Jessie felt flushed and hot. She dragged her hair away from her face. It stuck to her damp palms like cobwebs. “I’m sorry. Annie isn’t herself.”

“It’s nobody’s fault.”

A patrol officer entered the room. Jessie recognized the face, but forgot the name. His right cheek was swelling from where he’d been caught by Annie’s sharp elbow.

“Something’s wrong with Jeremy. He’s out cold.”

Jessie was unsteady on her feet. She thought she’d never make it to the door. In the kitchen, her mother was shouting out instructions for making a pot of coffee. At some point she must have memorized the manual. Her father’s long legs stretched out across the front hallway. She was surprised she’d not heard him hit the floor. It should have sounded like thunder.

Wade Larkin was on the floor next to Jeremy, speaking to him in a low voice. Jessie knelt down and placed her hand on her father’s heaving chest. His heart was pumping like a piston. His eyes were wide and searching. Jessie stared. She’d never seen him look vulnerable. She could put a pillow to his face, and he wouldn’t be able to struggle against her. The thought was oddly comforting. Wade’s voice was in her ear. He smelled of coffee and cattle. Another sort of comfort.

“Jessie’s here now. Everything is going to be okay.”

She put a hand on her father’s forehead. There was a fine layer of sweat, but the skin was chilled. He didn’t feel human anymore.

“Jeremy, you have to let us take care of you now.”

Aiden stood above them. “There was a mountain rescue helicopter in the air already. They should be here in less than five minutes.”

The door leading to the kitchen opened. Annie was no longer shouting. They’d put her in handcuffs. As she was led to the front door she stumbled on the hem of her dressing gown. Jessie looked down at her hand. Jeremy was squeezing it tight. Like John’s, his hands were large. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d touched her. She blinked and her mother was gone.

Jeremy’s voice was forced. “I don’t need a fucking helicopter. I need that woman out of my house.”

Jessie snatched her hand back and Jeremy’s fingers slid away like scales. “What you need to do is calm down.”

Wade’s knees creaked as he shifted his weight. “It wouldn’t hurt for a doctor to take a look.”

Jessie noticed the knife lying on the floor next to the skirting board and picked it up. It was from a set in the kitchen. “What is this doing here?”

Jeremy tried to sit up. “Your mother threatened me.”

Jessie handed the knife to Aiden. “Please take it.”

Her father was still trying to get up. “Lots of witnesses this time.”

Jessie closed her eyes. Over the years she and John had had ringside seats. “There have always been witnesses.”

The windows rattled. A helicopter was setting down somewhere nearby. The front door was wide open and warm dust blew straight into the house. Paramedics soon followed. Jessie leaned against the wall with her T-shirt pulled down over her knees. She didn’t realize she was crying until Aiden handed her a tissue.

“Where are you taking my mother?”

“I’ve called the psychiatric ward at Collier County Hospital. We’re lucky they have a bed available.” He took hold of her arm. “You need some fresh air.”

“I have to get dressed.”

“I’ll wait outside your room.”

Jessie struggled with the buttons on her shirt, pulling it off and grabbing another when she couldn’t get her hands to stop shaking. She stuck her head out the open window and took a deep breath. Through the trees she could see her daughter moving back and forth in a graceful arc. The rope swing hung from one of the oak trees on the western side of the house. Tara’s long black hair flowed behind her like a cape and her mouth was wide with laughter. Jessie didn’t recognize the redheaded woman pushing her. She called Aiden into her room.