Bent Road - Lori Roy [115]
“I’ve had about enough,” Uncle Ray says, his cheek lying on the stock of the gun. His head is hanging. Bad form, Ian would have said. “I’ve God damned had enough.”
Uncle Ray shifts his weight, putting his left foot slightly forward and then his right as if he can’t remember how to get off a good shot.
“Sure, Ray,” Dad says, still trying to soothe Uncle Ray, and when Uncle Ray stumbles because he’s still shifting his feet, Dad takes one quick glance at the house. “We’ve all had enough. Damn right about that.”
“Ruth is coming home today. Ruth and that child of mine. And that’ll be the end of it.”
The porch light glows on the two men. Flakes of snow blowing off the roof sparkle in the air around them.
“Let’s talk a bit,” Dad says and begins to sidestep across the drive toward the garage a few yards away.
“No more damned talking.” Uncle Ray stumbles again.
Dad stops, stands still.
“You call Ruth.” Uncle Ray rams the gun toward Dad. “Call her now.”
Continuing to sidestep away from the house toward the garage, Dad says, “She’s not here. Left with Jonathon. Taking rolls on over to the Buchers.”
Another step, farther away from the house. Closer to the garage.
“You heard about Ian, yes?” Dad says.
The closer Dad gets to the garage, the easier it is for Daniel to see him, but he can’t see Uncle Ray unless he steps out of the shadow and around the side of the barn.
“You know how Ruth is. Always trying to help out. She’ll be back later. Soon enough, I’d guess.”
Holding his breath and leaning as far as he can without stumbling outside of the shadow, Daniel listens for Uncle Ray’s voice. He leans too far, and when startled by a loud bang, he falls forward through the icy crust on a patch of fresh snow. There is another bang. Metal against metal. Olivia’s gate. He ran through it on the way to the prairie dog mound, and like he did when Olivia was alive, he left it open. Now it’s banging in the wind that has stirred up since the sun set. Daniel jumps up, scrambles to his feet and falls back against the barn.
“What the hell?” Uncle Ray shouts.
He must be looking straight at the barn now, probably with his gun pointed at the dent Daniel made in the snow, except Daniel is standing in the shadows, not breathing, not moving, and Uncle Ray doesn’t see him.
“Just that old gate,” Dad says.
From the sound of his voice, Dad is almost to the garage. Daniel leans against the barn, breathing so fast and deep that he doesn’t have time to think. He swallows and leans forward. Dad has taken a few more steps toward the garage, and Uncle Ray is following Dad with the tip of his rifle again, slowly turning his back on the house. Pressing against the barn, Daniel remembers the shotgun propped over his shoulder. Grandpa’s old shotgun. Dad thinks he’ll find it in the garage, behind the door, behind the oil barrel, under the blanket. He knew Uncle Ray would come one day. He knew it and was ready. Except he isn’t ready because Daniel has the gun.
“Where you going, Ray?” Dad says. “I told you she’s not here. Gone off with Jonathon.”
Uncle Ray is backing toward the house, his rifle still pointed at Dad.
“I’m no damn fool, Arthur. You stay put. Stay right there.”
Near the bottom stair leading up to the porch, Uncle Ray slips. He drops the tip of the rifle for a moment and grabs the railing to right himself before aiming the gun back at Dad. If he would turn slightly to his left, he might see Daniel, leaning out of the shadows, watching.
“Ruth,” Uncle Ray shouts up the set of stairs. “Get your damn self out here.”
“She won’t hear you, Ray. She’s gone off.”
Uncle Ray backs up the stairs, stumbling but holding onto the railing with one hand and balancing the gun with the other. At the top of the stairs, he pushes the latch on the screened door with his elbow, kicks it open and disappears onto the porch. Before the door has slammed shut, Dad slips into the garage.
The path from the side of the barn through Olivia’s gate is waist deep with snow. Daniel runs toward the garage,