Those Girls (5 page)

“We’ll talk to your daddy about it when he gets home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

*   *   *

That night we heated up the last can of tomato soup. Courtney told us Ingrid had asked about her burn.

“Did she believe you?” I said.

“I don’t know. She asked weird questions, like why you’d been cooking and not Dani, and if we went to the hospital. She said it wasn’t good, us being on our own so much, but I said Dad was coming home soon.” Ingrid could be nosy, and she had no problem sharing your personal business with anyone who would listen. She’d more than likely already told a few people that we were still alone. People who might decide to be neighborly and check on us.

Courtney looked at Dani. “We should just get out of here.”

Dani thought it over, taking so long I wanted to shout at her, but the more I pushed, the longer she’d take. She liked to look at all sides of stuff, weighing the options, but I thought she should listen to her guts more. I agreed with Courtney, but if I told Dani what I thought, she’d just tell me to shut up.

“If we split right after those gunshots, they’re going to wonder,” she finally said. “Maybe even send the cops after us. Let’s just hold tight for now.”

*   *   *

When we were finished eating, we ripped up the linoleum in the bathroom, which had already been peeling in places. We didn’t know what to do with it, so we shoved it into the shed until we could figure something out. We dug the bullet out of the wall—it had lodged in one of the beams—then patched the hole with some drywall putty we also found in the shed. We repainted the whole bathroom and the plywood floor with some old paint Dad had stolen from one of his buddies.

Around midnight we took Dad’s truck to the quarry, sticking to the back road. Dani drove, wearing one of Dad’s cowboy hats and a big coat, making her look bulkier in case anyone passed us. Courtney and I stayed low on the passenger side. At the quarry we drove around, checking that no one else was out there for a late swim. It was quiet. We went to one of the highest spots, put the truck in neutral, and pushed it over the edge. It didn’t sink right away.

“Shit! It’s not going down,” I said. “We should’ve opened the windows.”

“Wait,” Dani said. Finally it started to move, sinking below the surface. Bubbles rose.

“What if someone sees it? Like swimming down or something,” I said.

“They won’t,” Dani said. But she didn’t meet my eyes.

*   *   *

We decided to ditch the bleached rags and ripped-up linoleum at a neighbor’s. The man had more junk in his yard than our father, and stacks of building debris behind one of his shops—Courtney had fooled around with his son and remembered him saying the stuff had been there for decades. Best case, if he ever did clean up, it would get hauled to the garbage dump for us.

We drove Dani’s truck, our cargo under some other garbage, and parked near the bottom of his fields, where he brought the tractor through, turning our headlights off and coasting in. We couldn’t get too close—he might hear us up at the house—so we followed the tractor road on foot, each of us carrying an armload, the moon lighting our way. Courtney tripped and dropped her load with a thump.

We all froze, waiting to hear if anyone had noticed. The night was still.

We spread the garbage among the plywood, drywall, and scrap metal, carefully placing the sheets of linoleum between everything, trying to make sure it was at the back of the piles. It was hard work because we had to move some of the scrap, which was heavy, and we were trying to be quiet so we had to move slowly, our muscles screaming with tension. We didn’t know what to do with the bag of rags. Courtney and Dani argued in hushed whispers—Courtney thought we should just bury them, but Dani said an animal might be attracted to the blood and dig them back up. Finally we shoved them into an oil drum, then ran down the tractor road to the truck, my sister’s bodies dark shadows in front of me.

*   *   *

Back at home, we lit the last of Dad’s cigarettes and talked about what we should do.

“We could get jobs,” Courtney said.

“Doing what?” I said. “And who would hire us?”

There weren’t many opportunities in this town for three teenage girls, just farm work and maybe waitressing or working at the grocery store.

“You guys are missing the point,” Dani said. “They won’t let us stay here without Dad—people, his boss and his friends, are going to start looking for him. If we say he skipped out on us again, they’ll put us in foster care.”

“You’re almost eighteen, maybe they’ll let you keep us,” I said.

“I’d have to show that I could support you.”

“Walter and Ingrid might let us stay if we kept working on the ranch.”

“It’s not enough money and Dad’s already behind,” Dani said.

“We could go on welfare,” I said. “Or maybe Corey’s parents would let us stay there?” Dani was pretty close to her boyfriend’s family and they were nice.

“They don’t have room,” she said. “And we can’t stay anyway. We don’t know if Dad stopped somewhere before he came home. Someone might’ve seen him in town.”

“Should we leave tonight?” Courtney said.

“No,” Dani said. “It’ll look like we didn’t give him a chance to come home, like we know something.” The way she said it told me she’d been thinking about this for a while. “In a few days we have to say that he’s taken off again, and we’re going to stay with family.”

“If no one sees him for years, won’t they suspect something?” I said.

Dani took a long drag of her smoke. “Yeah, so we need to buy ourselves enough time to get out of here and settle somewhere else, then we’ll have to get fake ID. If anyone finds the truck or catches on, we’ll be long gone.” She looked at Courtney. “What about that married man Dad said you were messing around with? Is he going to be a problem?”

“Who was it anyway?” I said.

“Ben Miller,” Courtney said. “I broke it off last night, just told him I didn’t want my dad catching on.”

“Ben
Miller
?” I said. “He’s, like, thirty.” He owned one of the construction companies in town and had a wife and a couple of kids. I didn’t know how Courtney had hooked up with him, but no wonder Dad had freaked out.

“Doesn’t matter now,” she said, her face flushed. “It’s over.”

“What about Corey?” I said. He’d come by once since Dad had come home, pulled his truck up with some friends and asked Dani if she wanted to come for a swim, but she said she was too tired. He was going to get suspicious soon.

Dani blinked a few times, her lower lip trembling, until she caught it with her top one, pressed hard. I was almost relieved—I’d thought for a minute she might cry. I hadn’t seen her cry for years. Not since our mom’s funeral. I don’t know what I would’ve done if she had broken down.

“I’m going to have to break up with him.”

“No!” I breathed out in a hushed whisper.

“You sure?” Courtney sounded shocked too. Dani looked stunned herself, like she couldn’t believe what she was saying. We all thought they’d get married. They’d been friends even before they dated and I couldn’t remember a time when they weren’t together. Corey had been like a big brother to Courtney and me, teaching us how to drive his truck, taking us to the lake or movies with them, never acting like it was a pain in the ass to have his girlfriend’s sisters around.

“Won’t he think it’s weird?” Courtney said.

“Probably not.”

“Have you been fighting?”

Dani nodded, taking an angry drag off her smoke, blowing it out hard.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Courtney looked as surprised as I felt, and also a little hurt.

“It wasn’t any of your business.” Dani’s chin jutted up now.

“But he’s always talking about you guys getting your own place.…” Courtney looked confused now, then understanding came over her face. “He’s been bugging you to move out and you wouldn’t because of us.”

Dani shrugged. “Whatever.”

My eyes filled with tears. “Sorry, Dani.”

“It’s not your fault.” Her voice was tight, like she was trying to squeeze out the words. “We’re getting together Saturday night. I’ll do it then.”

“Where are we going to go?” Courtney said.

“It should be a big city, so we don’t stand out,” Dani said.

“Vancouver,” I said.

Courtney and I looked at Dani.

“Okay.” She knew how much we wanted to go there, but it had been our dream, not hers. I felt bad about how much she was leaving behind.

She was staring at the bathroom again, the cigarette burning down in her hand. None of us had been able to go in there since we’d cleaned up.

“I’m sorry, Dani,” I said again. This time she didn’t answer.

CHAPTER FIVE

We agreed that we’d give it a few more days. We were walking home from the farm the next afternoon, hot and tired, with Dani leading the way, her long hair swinging with each step, her body stiff, angry. Was she thinking about how she had to break up with Corey? I fiddled with my camera, clicking the shutter over and over again but feeling out of it, spacey from lack of sleep. Courtney’s fingers grazed her burn. Dani kept telling her to leave it alone, it would get infected, but Courtney kept poking at it or looking at it in the mirror.

Dani stopped abruptly and I looked up. A police car was waiting in the driveway. My fingers froze on the camera. Dani didn’t look at us.

Barely moving her lips, she said, “Let me do the talking.”

The sergeant got out of his car and we walked toward him. He was tall and lean, his belt hanging low.

“Sergeant Gibbs,” Dani said. “What can we do for you?”

“Just wanted to make sure you girls are okay.”

“We’re fine.”

“Heard you guys have a rat problem.” So he knew about the shots. Ingrid or Walter must’ve called him.

“We’re staying on top of it.”

“Your father home?”

“Soon.”

“Been a long shift this time. He sending you money?”

“We’re okay.”

“Heard you’re getting behind.”

“We’ll get caught up.”

He glanced down at the driveway, his eyes scanning the dirt, like he was looking for tracks. He looked back at the house, then us. “Mind if I look around?”

“What for?” Dani said. Her voice was calm, but she had her chin lifted.

“You girls here all alone, just want to make sure the house is safe.”

“I don’t think our dad would like it.”

“Well, we don’t have to tell him.”

I glanced at Dani, my stomach muscles tight.

“Look all you want,” Dani said, shrugging.

She walked up the steps, pushed open the door. We came in behind, standing awkward in the kitchen. Courtney ran the tap, poured herself some water. Her gaze flicked to me, then back to the sergeant. She leaned against the counter, acting casual, but her hand on the glass was shaking slightly. I sat down at the table, thinking about the gun under the sink. Dani was behind me. I could feel her heat, the nervous energy in her body.

The sergeant walked around, checking windows, his boots heavy on the floor. He fingered a broken lock on one of the back windows.

“You got someone to fix that?”

“Dad will do it when he gets home.”

He grunted, walked over to the bathroom, pushed open the door. I held my breath. His head tilted as he studied the fresh paint on the floor.

“Been painting?”

“We thought if we fixed things up a little, Walter might knock some money off.”

He left the bathroom, walked toward us, eyeing Courtney, the burn on her face.

“What happened there?”

“Jess burned me with a pan when I was bending over.” She laughed, but it sounded nervous.

“Looks pretty bad. You go to the doctor?”

She shook her head.

He stared at her face. “Usually takes a while for a burn to go that deep.”

“It was a really hot pan,” I said.

His gaze flicked to me, lingered for a minute on the bruise on my jaw. I could feel my face flush and knew I looked guilty. I hoped Ingrid had told him about the horse. If he asked me anything, I was sure I’d be a terrible liar.

He turned away and opened our fridge, his eyebrows lifting when he saw how empty it was. He leaned over, moved a few things around. I thought about the beer Dad had brought home, the leftover can. We’d never taken it out of the fridge. I gripped my hands tight in my lap.

“Why you looking in there?” Dani said.

“If you kids aren’t eating properly, might have to get social services to help out.”

“We’re eating fine.”

He stood back up, closed the fridge. “How old are you now, Dani?”

“Almost eighteen.”

“You’re all minors. None of you should be here alone like this. There are some good foster—”

“We’re not going back to foster care.”

“Your dad don’t come home soon, I’m going to have to make some calls.”

“He’ll be home.”

He sniffed the air again, the smell of bleach and fresh paint lingering. I waited, holding my breath. Was he going to figure it out?

“You girls aren’t supposed to be using that gun without a parent around. I could take it away from you.” He was looking at Dani over my head.

“We’re careful,” she said.

My heart was beating so hard now I worried he could hear it, or see the panic on my face. Finally he turned and moved toward the door.

“Keep it locked up until your dad gets home. Don’t want you shooting your foot off or something.”

“Yes, sir.” Dani exhaled softly behind me.

At the door he turned. “I’ll send the wife over with some food, should tide you over for a little while.”

“We don’t need any food,” I said.

Dani gave me a shove. “That’d be great,” she said. “Just until our dad comes home. Then we’ll pay you back.”

“Just until your dad comes home.” He held her gaze for a second, then walked to his car. He stared down again at the ground near his foot, scuffed his boot in the dirt. What was he seeing? A drop of blood? A tire track?

He looked back up at us one more time, then climbed into his car and drove off.

*   *   *

We were quiet that night as we ate our soup. Dani had used some of her money from doing odd jobs and bought a case of Mr. Noodles—you could get four packages for a dollar. I liked to make mine just noodles, using the package of spices as flavor, and mixing it with butter. But we were out of butter and Dani said I should make the broth so it filled me up longer. She fried up some of the remaining deer meat and added a couple of carrots we’d taken from the field to the pot she’d made for her and Courtney—she tried to convince me to eat some of the meat but I’d seen deer in the fields, their big brown eyes, and I couldn’t do it. I made a separate pot of soup for myself, just noodles, broth, and carrots.