Gun Lake (30 page)

After the orchestra finished playing, the two of them remained in the park as families and couples began to slip away. It was close to ten thirty at night.

“When’s your curfew?” Norah asked him.

“Lights out at nine thirty,” he replied almost automatically.

“What do you mean?”

He shook his head, giving a distant look again. “Nothing. Sorry.”

“Why is it that I feel that you’re always not saying what you’re thinking?”

“Probably because I’m not.”

“You can, you know. You can share your thoughts with me.”

He looked at her, his dark eyes piercing the casual facade. Again she felt that connection.

I want to kiss him
. And she did want this and couldn’t believe she wanted it.

“All right, I’ll share,” he said.

“Okay.”

“There’s this wonderful young woman who looks more and more astonishing the more I spend time with her. The way the moon and these lights look on your face. The way your hair almost glows—”

“Okay, okay,” Norah said. “That’s not what I mean.”

“That’s what I’m thinking.”

“I’m about to gag.”

He laughed. “You know what I like about you?”

“My witty banter?”

“No. But that was good. You’re not one of those women who act like they know they’re beautiful.”

She didn’t say anything. How could she respond to that?

“My wife. She was beautiful. But she knew it. She knew it a little too well. I mean, the fact that she married me—I don’t know, things like that happen. But she always acted like she knew it, you know? She’d enter a room and be aware that guys’ eyes were on her and like it that way. She dressed to get their attention too. It became—well, it got really old.”

“I could imagine.”

“I just—I was far from perfect. You gotta understand that. I shouldn’t even say anything.”

“It’s okay,” Norah said.

“It’s just so great to be around a woman.”

Norah thought she hadn’t heard his statement correctly. She asked him what he’d said.

“I mean, it’s just so great to be around a woman like you. Someone who is—who’s so easy to be around.”

“Thank you.”

“Norah, I’ve got to tell you—I might be leaving soon.”

“I should hope so,” she said.

“Why?”

“You don’t exactly
live
here, right?”

He nodded, realizing what she was saying.

Why is he acting—what’s the word? Airheaded almost? Strangely absent-minded?

“I figured you guys would have to go back sometime.”

“I was thinking—if I stayed up here, around here, would that be weird?”

“Of course not,” Norah said. “It would be nice. You’re one of about five people I know up here.”

“I guess I need to tell you—there’s lots. You know—I’m not a perfect guy. There’s stuff in my past.”

“Is there a perfect guy out there?” she asked. “If so, find him and show him to me.”

“I know, but—”

“I was with a not-so-perfect man for a long time. For too long of a time.”

“What happened?”

“I left. Just like that. That’s why I’m living out of a suitcase in a motel.”

An unfamiliar look washed over David’s face. A look of compassion and concern. “I’m sorry. Was it—was it that bad?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“But what I’m saying is—I’m used to not-so-perfect men.”

The look was still on his face. A guilty look almost.

“Maybe you need a good guy to be around.”

“I thought that’s what I was doing,” Norah said.

“You don’t know me.”

“So far, I’ve liked what I’ve gotten to know.”

“Yeah, but—”

“David?”

He looked at her, his face still, his eyes unmoving.

“We don’t have to dump our pasts in each other’s laps.”

“I guess not.” His voice was serious and low.

“You’re not leaving tomorrow, are you?”

“I might not be leaving for quite a while,” he told her.

“Then there’s no need for—for all of this—tonight.”

“I know.”

“No pressure, right? Just casual. And fun.”

“Right,” David said.

“All right then.”

They talked for another hour, joking again, sharing memories of growing up, their parents, their interests.

On the way back to the car, Norah slipped her hand into his. She could tell he was nervous by the way his hand shook.

That made Norah feel better. It told her she wasn’t the only one of them to feel anxious and apprehensive.

It would be their only touch for the night. But for Norah, and hopefully for David, it felt like a beginning.

“NICE VIEW, HUH?”

The man leaning against the railing nodded as he turned around. They stood on the deck outside the tavern that edged the lake. Moonlight reflected off the water, giving the scene a cold bluish glow. The evening felt cool and still. The older man squinted his eyes to see the stranger who had walked up behind him.

“Good night to see the stars, huh?” Sean asked the older man.

Something in the man’s disposition changed. He seemed frozen for a second, unable to move, unable to stop staring at Sean.

“Something wrong?” Sean asked, taking a sip of his beer and leaning against the railing.

“What do you want?”

Sean studied the man with gray and white flecks of beard on his face, dark and thick ridges under his eyes. He was several inches shorter than Sean, but was still fairly well built.

“Just wanted to share my beer with someone.”

“I’m almost done,” the man said, his voice quiet and needing to be cleared.

“I can get you another.”

“It’s fine.”

Sean looked at him and studied him for a minute, smiling.

“Great place to come, isn’t it?” Sean asked the man. “The tavern?”

“The lake.”

“What are you doing here?”

Sean shook his head, drained the rest of his beer, then leaned on the railing and looked up at the stars.

“Do you know, when I was a kid, I used to sneak out at night and go watch the stars. I liked to try and count falling stars. My mother never knew, or at least she didn’t say anything. There was something about getting out—escaping—that made me feel alive. You can take things for granted, standing here, gazing up at the stars.”

“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” the man said, his voice still wary.

Sean chuckled, amused by his uneasiness.

“What do you mean? Can’t a guy come up and chat?”

“How’d you find me?”

“It wasn’t hard,” Sean said. “All you have to do is look.”

“I thought—maybe you’d come looking for me.”

“Yeah? That’s flattering. Thinking alike, huh?”

“What do you want?”

“Why should I
want
something? What could I possibly
want
from you?”

Sean’s tone sharpened a bit and then he stopped talking. He sipped the beer and then looked up at the speckled heavens.

The man shifted and his face tightened. “I’ve been reading all about you guys on the news,” he said. “Following your every move. They thought you guys ended up in some place called Cabo San Lucas.”

“We didn’t,” Sean said.

“You followed me here.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I came just for the scenery. Seems like a nice family place, doesn’t it?”

The man just studied him, saying nothing.

“Nobody’s going to be looking for us around here,” Sean continued. “We blend in. We lay low. And I get to—well, I get to just hang out. Like I’m doing now.”

“I’ve gotta go.”

Sean moved to block the man from leaving. The man stopped, turned his head, backed up.

“All this time and you don’t even want to chat?” Sean said, the smile still lingering on his face.

“What do you want from me?”

“Nothing.”

“You’ll let me just walk off, huh? Just like that?”

“Sure.”

“What’s to prevent me from making a call, telling somebody where you are?”

Sean nodded. “One thing you have to know. I’m not going back. I’m never going back. They can drop me to the bottom of this lake or put a dozen rounds in me, but there’s no way they’re taking me back to prison. And if it comes down to it, I’ll take down anyone and everyone I can before I’m caught.”

“You’ll be caught.”

“No I won’t,” Sean said, leaning up closer to the older man. “I’ll kill myself, and I think that you probably know that. Do you want another death on your hands?”

“Another—”

“Yeah, another.”

“Don’t you even try to—”

“To what? To talk about the truth?” Sean cursed. “She died, and there was only one person responsible, and I’m looking at him right now.”

The man cursed at Sean, but Sean said nothing back. Not for a few seconds.

“I’m not going back,” he finally said. “And if you want another death on your soul, or another dozen—it doesn’t matter to me—then you go ahead and make that call.”

“I haven’t done anything to you.”

“I know. And that’s exactly why I’m here.”

“Stay away from me,” the man said.

“Such tender words.” Sean set his glass down on the railing. He shook his head. “I thought our reunion would be a lot more special, Paul. Or should I call you Mr. Hedges? Or … Dad.”

Paul looked at Sean and didn’t move. Sean took out the forty-five automatic that had been tucked in a side holster under his shirt. He held it up to the sky, then looked sideways at the man beside him.

“You like The Doors?” Sean asked.

Paul just stood there, his bearded face and stern eyes just staring.

“The Doors? The group—the music—you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You a fan?” Sean asked.

“Not really.”

“That’s a shame. I’ve grown into quite a fan, you know. Jim Morrison. The Lizard King.”

Sean moved closer to Paul. Nobody else was on the deck. Faint music from inside the tavern played.

“Remember the song ‘The End’? Remember that song?”

Paul nodded, backing up to the edge of the deck.

“You wouldn’t remember the lyrics, would you?”

Paul looked at him, then at the gun in his hand, now by Sean’s side.

“Let me give you a few lines,” Sean said, and then he began quoting from the song.

“The killer awoke before dawn,” he started. He spoke several lines in a deep and heavy voice, finally stopping before the one he had saved just for this moment.

If he could have played it for the man across from him, it would have been more fitting. But he simply had to recite the verse.

It would do.

It would do quite well.

Sean smiled.

“Father. Yes, son. I want to kill you.”

The man didn’t move.

Sean laughed and put the gun back in its holster. Then he left his father out on the deck, under the stars, standing quietly against the backdrop of a silent lake.

THE FIRST THING TO DO was to admit you had a problem.

Oh, I’ve got a problem all right
, Don thought.
My whole life is one big problem
.

He cursed to himself as he sat behind his wheel, stone-cold sober and feeling it. Really feeling the last couple days of going cold turkey. He had it bad and he had a problem and he knew it well enough to know that his life was spiraling out of control.

I need Collette to help me
.

The cruiser was turned off and it was dark inside his vehicle. The blue, red, and yellow sign for the Joint lit up his face, which probably looked like that of a mutt waiting to have his first hearty meal in a long time. Not canned dog food but prime steak, served up hot and ready to go. It was just a door away.

He didn’t have to work. He was taking some time off. Or being forced to take some time off—wasn’t that more like it? And why? Because he was going through a rough period. People understood those sorts of things. Your marriage falls on the rocks and you start downing drinks on the rocks. The other guys in the county sheriff’s office understood that. Maybe he was a little unfit to be driving around with a handgun on his side and a law to enforce. Maybe. But he would get better. It was just a matter of time. Days. Weeks, perhaps, but hopefully not.

You can stop this now
.

It would be the same story tomorrow. And the next day And the next.

One day at a time
.

He cursed because he knew the lingo and had seen many people come and go with that lingo. Many alkies live and die with that jargon. A bunch of mumbo jumbo.

But he didn’t need it. He was strong enough to say no or yes whenever he wanted to.

A crack of a snapshot went through his mind. The family of four. The mother and the three boys—Collette, Jeff, Todd, and Don. It was a joke they often laughed at—or they used to laugh at. The three boys. Ha ha. But she never treated him like a man,
never gave him the respect he needed. The whole thing was her fault, in a way.

That didn’t mean he didn’t have a problem. He did. And he was going to do something about it. Eventually.

As soon as she gets home—we’ll work on it together, maybe get some counseling. And meanwhile, during this temporary break, maybe I’ll get it out of my system
.

No work to do. No fathering to do. No responsibilities.

Let go then. Just … let … go
.

What did that mean?

A hand opened the door. And a leg stepped out of the car. Then another. The car door got shut. The legs carried him toward the bar. And his tongue could taste the beer. And his mind could feel the heaviness vanish. And the pit in his gut could feel itself evaporating, already, even before the sweet, soothing liquid flowed into it.

That’s letting go. That’s it, that’s right
.

And just like that, Don entered the Joint. No problem. Nothing wrong.

The sweet smile of the new girl made him feel better.

Don sat at the bar, his eyes heavy, the glass in front of him almost empty. He had stopped drinking Buds after a few and had gone straight to the liquor. Jack Daniels on the rocks. He was on his third one.

It was eleven o’clock. Kay already trusted the new girl—was her name Norah?—enough to depart early on this unusually slow Saturday night. Pete, the owner of the place, was around, coming in and out from the back. So the young lady was fine. Don had probably tipped her fifty dollars already. It was something, getting your drinks poured by a lovely young woman who smiled and listened to your banter and didn’t make you feel ashamed for drinking.