Road to Nowhere (17 page)

Joe just waited.

“Well, anyway, everybody knows you tried to hide everything, and how you wouldn’t announce it until they made you. Not a peep out of the state, and not a peep out of Patsy or anyone, and when Everett Colony finally was there demanding that you say whether we’d got the road or not, you finally admitted we had.”

There was nothing to say.

“So, Joe, everyone’s pretty upset with you, and they’re all throwing around those accusations. Aren’t you going to say something? I’m only worried that nobody’s hearing your side of it.”

“You’re not telling the truth, Luke.”

He laughed at that. “The only thing that’s true is what people think is true.”

Eliza walked slowly, each careful step an effort on the dusty road. But she kept on. There were tired days like this on occasion, when she felt the effort of every step.

She shifted the heavy bag from one hand to the other. Annie Kay was so generous, saving out for her wheat and rice and beans, and any other useful thing. And she’d offered to even drive them up to the cabin.

But these were Eliza’s burdens to bear.

So she walked, slowly, step by step, along the dusty road.

It had been a nice day, with both of them home, and Louise had a nice supper of chicken and rice and carrots. They hadn’t been in a hurry at all. The kitchen was clean before seven o’clock.

Now they each had a bowl of ice cream, watching the news and just as comfortable as they could be.

So, of course, there had to be pictures and talking about the war. Byron didn’t even wait for her to say anything.

“He’s all right.”

“I hope so,” she said.

“He is. Matt can take care of himself. And they’re all looking after each other anyway.”

She watched tanks and ruined buildings. “When he left, it was like he’d died. That’s how it seemed to me.”

“He’s coming back, Louise. Just be patient.”

“That’ll be a day to celebrate, when he does.”

April 16, Sunday

Easter! Finally. Louise had on her bright yellow dress, and she’d been for months waiting to wear it. And right in front of the church was a whole long row of tulips exactly the same color, and another row exactly the same red as Byron’s tie.

All the other ladies were as bright as the flowers. They were a whole garden! The children were in their little dresses and white shirts, and their hair combed and brushed. Now, this was spring.

Maybe it was warmer now and the flowers were blooming, but Easter was what really made it spring.

They’d sing Easter hymns and hear a good Baptist Easter sermon, and everyone would be there.

Oh, what fun!

Up the steps, Rose beside him like always. Old granite church walls, big wood doors. Marker United Methodist hadn’t changed since they’d got married there.

Third pew on the right. Leonard Darlington and Maggie in front of them. They’d been married there, too. Forty years ago.

Other farmers and their wives filling in. Not many young folks.

Pastor was an old man, too. He’d come two years ago. Most pastors who came were just biding time till they’d retire.

Everybody was looking nice and tidy, all made up, Kyle such a treat in his new suit and Kelly with her hair all done up. Sue Ann just as pretty as a picture. They parked on Main Street and walked to the Episcopal church right beside the courthouse and made to look like it. Easter Sunday already—how time flew by. It was this time of year that morning sunlight came through the stained-glass windows right onto the altar. Those windows were worth every penny.

The little children were all lined up in front like a row of dolls, just like the top shelf in the kitchen where she had all the little porcelains. They were singing all the songs they learned in Sunday school, fidgeting and sitting down and standing up and being little children. They hardly knew anyone was watching, they just concentrated on singing, or on nothing. Louise was remembering when Angie was little like that, and when Matt was. And thinking of Matt made her squeeze Byron’s hand.

“Corny. I can’t eat another thing.” The table stretched a mile in front of him, covered. Waffles. Sausage. Eggs.

“You’ve eaten enough anyway,” she said.

They were all in the same stupor. The girls were done and gone to the kitchen. Wade looked across the wreckage at his wife.

“I could sleep till noon.”

“That’s one hour.”

“Noon tomorrow.”

“We’re rafting tomorrow, remember?”

Randy stood up and shared his hymnbook with Sue Ann. The choir had their purple shawls on, and they had a trumpet for “Christ the Lord Is Risen Today.” Wonderful addition to the service, just wonderful. Very touching. Very fitting.

A strenuous walk, through the forest, up the side of the mountain. Eliza did not hurry but accepted the difficulty of the climb, and the value it gave to the height.

Finally she sat, on a fallen tree, with the immensity of the valley before her. The trees were cast in fresh green, and the torrent of unfurling was clothing the mountain.

“And what happened in that cave on that morning?” The farmers and wives were all straight and still, as was proper for church, while the pastor read his sermon to them.

“He arose, he arose,” Louise singing as loud as anybody.

“And what does it mean to us?” the rector asked.

Randy noticed that Everett Colony and his wife were sitting a few rows forward from where they usually did, as far as he could from Roland Coates, and Roland and Miranda were returning the favor.

“Could something that happened two thousand years ago have any importance in our lives today?”

In fact, now that he looked around, Randy was noticing that there were a few families there in that back corner with the Coates, and a space between them and the rest of the congregation. Roger and Grace Gallaudet were back there, and Ed Fiddler and Emma.

“What relevance does this event, this story, this resurrection, if you will, have for us? I believe we each need to answer that question for ourselves.”

It was surely just a coincidence, but those in the back corner were the families who’d said they were in favor of Gold River Highway, sort of cut off from everyone else who was against it.

“Why do we, today, need that resurrection of long ago?”

“To think, He would die for us!” The pastor waved his Bible and Louise glued her eyes onto it. “And you can’t ignore it. Every man, woman, and child will have to decide what they’re going to do about that. What side will you be on today?”

The sharp edges of the mountain ridges, across the valley from her, and far off, also, drew hard lines against the sky. As if they were saying,
Here is mountain
, and,
Here is no mountain
, and the line between mountain and empty sky is hard and unmoving.

Often there were shades and depths in the Warrior. Now there was a boundary, dark and light separated.

Wade opened his eyes to see what his ears were hearing.

The television was on, right in front of him. “Brothers and sisters, He did die for each of us, for me and for you.” Shiny hair, shiny teeth, shiny voice.

“What’s that for?” Wade asked, everything still blurry.

“It’s Easter.”

“Oh.”

“Once a year we should watch a church service. It’s good for you.”

“Like broccoli.” He’d got his focus working and he stared at the bright, shiny screen. He made himself pay attention. Corny was right, it was Easter.

“Do you love anyone enough to die for them?” the teeth asked.

April 20, Thursday

Potatoes. Celery looked nice. The carrots didn’t, but what was a roast without them? Louise pushed her cart down the vegetable aisle, looking for anything that might spice up dinner. King Food just wasn’t the place to look for surprises.

It was always crowded this time of the afternoon, and they would run out of things soon. She kept looking. Back to the produce line.

A pile of turnips, of all things. She smiled at the thought of Byron finding a great big turnip on his plate beside his roast.

She stopped beside Humphrey King loading up the soup shelf.

“Now, where did these turnips come from?”

“Howdy, Louise. Those are from Duane Fowler’s greenhouse.”

“They’re the best I’ve ever seen,” she said. “But the carrots could use some improvement.”

“There’ll be more in a couple days.”

“Then I’ll be back.” She started moving, but Humphrey called her back.

“Louise? I just want you to know that not everyone in Mountain View is against the highway. I’d be glad to get some new customers.”

“I’m glad to know that, Humphrey.”

“Charlie. You wanted me to call?”

“Yeah, where’ve you been? I haven’t heard from you.”

Wade took a few seconds to put his feet up on the desk. “I’ve got better things to do.”

“Like what?”

“Sell houses.”

“Since when have you been selling houses?”

Same old lovable Charlie. “Since when haven’t I? It’s April. People buy houses in April. Seven so far this month, done deals. Twenty more prospects to follow up.”

“You could give me a report once in a while.”

“You get all the paper work.”

“I don’t read papers. You know how much paper people send me?”

“That sounds like a personal problem, Charlie. Hey, did you ever find out about that grocery store?”

“Oh yeah, I know that story, down to how many spaces in the parking lot. You don’t need to worry. Nobody’s stopping that thing.”

“So, they’re tearing down the factory?”

“What factory?”

“The factory in Wardsville, where they’re building the store.”

“What store?”

“The grocery store.”

“They’re building a grocery store in Wardsville?”

“That’s what you just said.”

“I didn’t say that. Factory, huh? I’ll find out. Didn’t you say something about a factory before?”

Wade could only stare at the phone. Charlie’s voice kept coming.

“Forget that. I want to talk about Gold River Highway.”

“We got the funding, we wait for July to see the plans.”

“No waiting. I’m putting it in the ads. Big new road, buy your house before prices go up.”

“It’s not a road yet.”

“I think it is. You said you’d get it through the county board.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You said it was three to two.”

“No I didn’t. I said I didn’t know how Louise Brown would vote. It’s two to two, with her on the fence, and the vote isn’t till December. So don’t put any road in the ads.”

“December’s too long to wait. We’ll lose the whole year, and we’ll lose the shopping center, too.”

No. Don’t try to figure it out. “I’d be right with you, Charlie, but it really could go either way.”

“Then get to that lady and make a deal. How much will it take?”

“Charlie, what is your problem? What happens if I offer Louise money and she blows the whistle? Because the first thing she’ll do is tell me to stuff it, and then she’ll tell the other board members, and it’ll be in the newspaper the next day. I’m the only guy on this whole board who even knows how to take a bribe.”

That shut the guy up. For six seconds. “Give me her number.”

“Forget it. You can look it up yourself,” Wade said.

“She’s a politician,” Charlie said. “There’s never been a county supervisor that couldn’t be bought. What’s the point of even getting elected?”

“Charlie. You call her, I quit. I mean it. I will flat out quit.”

“What’s your problem, Wade? Since when do you care?”

“I’m saying that that’s not how it works out here. I don’t want the whole Gold Valley project to end up on the trash heap, and I personally don’t want to end up in jail, and if you talk to Louise Brown, you will do both of those.”

That bought twelve seconds, and when Charlie finally got his mouth moving again, he was finally just a little humiliated.

“So what am I supposed to do?” he asked.

“Just wait.”

His humility was all used up. “That’s not good enough! Wade, I want that road and I want it now! I said there was no stopping it, and there better not be!”

Bang!

Charlie had slammed his phone down real hard, and Wade was back to staring at his.

He walked out into the main room of the lodge with the big fireplace and beams and windows. Beautiful place. Take a deep breath, look out at the mountains. Ayawisgi. What did
Ayawisgi
mean, anyway?

Then he made his own call.

“This is Joe Esterhouse.”

Joe and Charlie within two minutes of each other. He might get vertigo.

“Joe, this is Wade Harris. Hey, I’m sorry to call—I know you don’t like people interrupting you with calls. I’ll be real quick. Did you ever find out anything about Gold River Highway? You didn’t sound like you’d be able to, but I thought I’d ask.”

Short pause. “I did find out some,” Joe said. “Not much yet. It’s someone in Raleigh behind it, but I don’t know who. Somebody devious.” Another pause. “I think we need to talk, Wade.”

“Yeah, I think so, too. Uh . . . man, it’s busy these next couple weeks. Maybe before the board meeting in May?”

“I could do that.”

“Okay. If something else opens up before then, I’ll call. Hey, Joe, thanks. I’ll see you.”

“Sue Ann, now I think that’s about the last thing I ever expected you to fix for dinner.”

“Is it all right?” She looked almost fearful. “I saw them at the store and I remembered my mother’s recipe.”

“Well, of course it’s all right, sweetie, just a little of a surprise. I can’t even think when was the last time I had turnips.”

“There’s ham I could fix real quick.”

“No, I wouldn’t hear of it. Now, I’ll get Kyle and Kelly, and you finish whatever you need to, and we’ll all just sit down and enjoy those.”

“I think I will warm up some ham,” Sue Ann said. Poor thing, she must have been fretting all afternoon. “Just to make sure everyone has enough to fill up on.”

“You do whatever you want, dear, because I don’t think I can remember a dinner you’ve made that wasn’t just delicious, and now I’m sure looking forward to tonight’s.”

“You should have heard him,” Wade said. Man, he was looking forward to supper. It smelled good, too. “Blew about every gasket he had.”