Bent Road - Lori Roy [90]
Chapter 26
Route 60, leading Daniel and Jonathon fifteen miles southwest, was plowed sometime during the night, but as the snow continues to fall, a fresh layer, blowing like thick fog, covers the narrow road. Still, the chains on Jonathon’s tires rattle over the hard, frozen ground. Outside, snowflakes fall in a heavy white curtain, larger and fluffier then they were at home. Squinting into the white haze, Daniel tries to follow one flake all the way to the ground.
“Here we go,” Jonathon says, slowly rolling the steering wheel, his leather gloves stiff as he passes one hand over the other.
He pulls off the main road where a rusted mailbox hangs from a wooden post. The fresh, unplowed snow quiets the chains.
“Haven’t seen this old place in years.”
Daniel leans forward, both hands resting on the dashboard. The small two-story farmhouse has a flat roof and a wrap-around porch. Other than a single barren tree standing in front and to the side of the house, the landscape is empty. Flat, snow-covered fields stretch as far as the horizon in every direction. The snow makes everything crisp and new, tidy. It’s as if Norbert Brewster and his wife never left the house, or perhaps it’s as if they never lived there at all.
“Doesn’t anyone live here?” Daniel asks.
“Not since Norbert lost his wife and moved to town. Couple years back, at least.” Jonathon throws the car into park and leans over the steering wheel. “Let’s have a quick look around. Doesn’t seem to be much worth saving,” he says and looks up at the thick white layer of snow on the flat roof. Grabbing his toolbox from the center seat, he climbs out of the truck.
The icy stairs creak when they walk up them to the porch. Standing at the front door, Daniel shoves his hands in his coat pockets while Jonathon fumbles with the key that Norbert Brewster gave him. The emptiness of the snow-covered fields surrounding the house makes Daniel think of Clark City. Jack Mayer would have come across this house first when he escaped, even before the Scott house, but if he did stop here, looking for food or anything else, he wouldn’t have found it.
“Got it,” Jonathon says. He steps inside, stomping his boots on the threshold even though no one lives here anymore, and Daniel follows closely behind, stomping his boots, too. Their heavy footsteps echo in the empty house and something scurries.
Jonathon winks at Daniel. “Rats, I suppose.” He takes a few steps into the entryway, and stops. “Well, that’s a shame,” he says.
Daniel looks off to the right where Jonathon is looking. A snowdrift, littered with leaves and dirt, has spilled through a broken picture window into what was once the dining room.
“Might have pulled up those oak floors,” Jonathon says, setting his toolbox on the third step of the stairway leading to the second floor. He opens it and hands Daniel a screwdriver. “Take a look around up there,” he says, nodding up the stairs. “If you find a decent door, take it down. Give a shout if you need a hand. I’m going to see about the kitchen cabinets.”
Daniel steps into the wide entry that leads into the dining room. A gust of wind catches him in the face. He shivers. Most of the glass in the picture window is gone. Only a few pieces hang from the top of the frame. They are called shards. Daniel knows because that’s what Dad called them after Uncle Ray broke their window. Dad knocked those shards loose with a hammer and boarded up the window with scraps of plywood from the basement.
“Looks to have been broken a long time,” Daniel says, watching Jonathon rummage for another screwdriver. Maybe he isn’t so bad. It’s not his fault he’s always the extra set of hands.
“No telling,” Jonathon says and walks toward the back of the house. “Holler if you find anything worth keeping.”
Evie sits on the edge of Aunt Ruth’s bed, swinging her feet so the bedsprings creak and watching Aunt Ruth try to thread a needle. She is still sleeping in Evie’s room, but once Elaine gets married to Jonathon, Aunt Ruth and her baby will live in Elaine’s old