The Red Garden - Alice Hoffman [85]
Frank followed them at a distance. They were making a loopy circle through the thick part of the woods.
“Did you ever think he might not want to be found?” the woman said.
The couple kept walking, annoyed with each other, getting scratched by brambles and bitten by flies. Before long even they could tell they were getting nowhere. They were utterly lost. There’d been a murder up here once, but Jesse didn’t mention it. They sat on a log, backs to each other.
“Fuck,” Jesse said. He looked over his shoulder. “There are bears up here.”
“Well, great, Jesse,” the woman said. “Perfect.”
It was late in the day. The sky was ashy. The woman was so beautiful she was like a magnet. Frank stepped out of the woods. He seemed like a shadow and then like a man. His own brother didn’t recognize him, so on that point they were even.
“What do you know!” Jesse crowed when he realized it was Frank who’d found them. “It’s you.” He leapt to embrace Frank, and Frank allowed himself to be hugged. Jesse took a step back, grinning. “You’re a fucking mountain man.”
The woman came over and stuck out her hand for Frank to shake. “Tia McCorry,” she introduced herself. “Thank goodness we found you. We are so lost.”
Jesse grabbed Frank by the arm. “They’re telling me you don’t remember me. That’s total bullshit, right?”
The blond man had green eyes. He was smiling at Frank, but he had a puzzled look under his smile.
“Total bullshit,” Frank said.
Jesse let out a whoop. “I knew you were shining them on. You weren’t going to forget me.”
As Frank led them back to their Jeep, Jesse told of his exploits in California. He’d hitchhiked out and that had been a blast.
“Making sure to fuck every woman he met,” added Tia. “You know your brother. Ultimate ladies’ man.”
“Yep,” Frank said.
Jesse had hung out in San Francisco for a while, then decided to hitch down the coast for a weekend. When he wound up in L.A., he was broke. He’d been there ever since, working at a nightclub, managing a few bands. That’s how he’d met Tia, who was a singer—or at least she planned to be. Several of his bands had broken through. He was making a ridiculous amount of money at this point.
“You’ve got to come with us,” he said to Frank. “I told you this town is nowhere.”
It was growing dark. Frank had good night vision, but it was difficult going for the other two. They stumbled over rocks and their clothing snagged on thornbushes. When they reached the car, the sky was inky. Jesse reached for his keys, but dropped them in the underbrush. “Fuck,” he said.
“Your brother’s a city boy,” Tia murmured to Frank. He noticed she smelled like vanilla. Perfume drew mosquitoes to you. It was hot and buggy, and Tia raised up her length of blond-white hair in one hand and fanned her neck. Frank felt dizzy looking at her.
Jesse was still rooting around in the tall grass for the car keys when Frank heard the bear. He was used to quiet, so he took notice of the sound of the bushes being flattened as the bear headed their way.
“Get on top of the car,” he told Jesse and Tia.
“If I had a lighter, I could see,” Jesse complained.
Tia was looking at Frank.
“Do it now,” he said. “Be quiet.”
Tia scrambled up.
“I think they’re over by the tire,” Jesse said, still searching through the brush.
Frank leaned close to his brother. “Shut up and get on top of the car.”
The intensity of his tone made Jesse get on top of the Jeep, fast.
Frank had his gun, but he didn’t want to use it. He’d shot at squirrels and practiced with targets. In the winter he’d have no choice but to go after rabbit and deer, but he’d never entertained the notion of shooting a bear. There was something wrong about that. Something unmanly. He stood with his back against the Jeep and watched the bear amble along the logging road. There were overripe blueberries and wild raspberries. The bear was an old male, big. He was so close they could hear him grumbling to himself, the way some folks hum when they’re going about their business.
It was true twilight now, darker by the instant. The