Red - Jack Ketchum [44]
Laura was right. She was still burning leaves for Dorothy. In her arms she’d drifted off to sleep again and woke in the same position so evidently her thrashing had been over for the night. That didn’t mean it was over for good, though. In a way she’d been thrashing around all day today.
By the time the school bell rang a good quarter of the kids were still working on the quiz and a collective groan went up from those who hadn‘t finished. It hadn’t been a particularly tough quiz. But then it wasn’t a particularly bright class either.
“Enjoy your half-day of freedom,” she said. “Leave your papers on my desk, please.”
She watched them file by and thought, they sure can vacate fast. A few smiled at her, a few said bye, but for the most part they were just in a hurry to get the hell out of there. That was fine with her. She’d have time for a smoke back by the ticket booth with Bill Fulmer before the conference.
She wondered what Bill would say about what she was thinking.
She dug the paper with the Cleeks’ phone number and address on it out of her purse, placed it on her blotter and smoothed out all the wrinkles.
~ * ~
The bus ride home was typically manic when you had a bunch of kids with a half-day off. Loud and obnoxious. Kids throwing spitballs in back. Guys flicking the earlobes of the girls in front of them. Some days he might have gotten a little obnoxious himself, what the hell. But today he had other things on his mind. Good things. Important things.
So that when Cyndi walked up the aisle and sat down beside him she was a distraction he didn’t need.
“Hey, Brian. A bunch of us are going to the movies. The new TWILIGHT movie. Want to come along?”
“Nah. TWILIGHT’s lame. Besides, I gotta get home. Got stuff I gotta do.”
Cyndi never had glommed on to the fact that he’d planted gum in her hairbrush. The poor kid really liked him. He could tell she was disappointed. But that’s what she was — a kid. Just a kid. Pretty, though. Too bad.
“Okay, then,” she said. “Maybe next time.”
“Sure. Next time.”
Like there would ever be a next time.
He watched her slink back down the aisle to her seat and in a little while his stop came around and the door creaked open and he got off the bus.
~ * ~
Peg was lying on the couch, still in her pj’s and covered by an old quilt, reading UNDER THE DOME for the third time when he came rushing in headed straight for the kitchen. She considered saying something like what’s the big hurry, Brian? but she knew it would come out bitchy because bitchy was how she was feeling and besides, they were just about to bust Barbie and Rusty out of jail and gruesome though it was, that was a part she liked.
So she said nothing. He didn’t even notice she was there.
~ * ~
The note on the refrigerator beneath the magnetized ELVIS LIVES photo was in his mother’s hand. Darlin’s dental appointment it said, which he already knew. Sandwich stuff in the fridge. Feed dogs, Brian. Home by 3. Mom. No X’s and O’s today. His mother had been in a mood.
Instead of making himself a sandwich he wolfed down what his sister called a little-man cookie and pocketed a couple more. Took the keyring off its hook on the support ring and went back outside. He noted the old rusty push mower which had probably belonged to his grandfather leaning against the porch, one of its broken blades lying beside it. It had been down in the cellar along with all that other junk the day they made room for her. He guessed his father had finally decided to throw something out.
He took the steps two at a time.
~ * ~
She glanced out the window and saw him loping toward the barn. She’d read the note on the fridge. He was supposed to feed the dogs. But she couldn’t remember ever seeing him so eager to fulfill that particular duty.
She went back to the book.
~ * ~
In the barn the dogs were all excited barking and snapping but the dogs could wait. ‘Till hell froze over as far