Cold Black Earth (8 page)

“Since when do you call him Junior?”

“Since he took over the bank. His old man keeled over with a coronary about five, six years ago. And Barry instantly became Junior.”

“And proceeded to carry on the old man’s tradition of screwing the little guy,” said Holmes.

Dan grinned at him. “Now, Carl. Bankers have to make some tough calls. You have to understand the business.”

“I understand the business. Foreclose on the little guy and let the big-time operators slide, year after year.”

“It’s called Too Big to Fail,” said Matt. “That’s the way the government operates, too.”

Holmes made a whiffing sound of disgust. “Well, it ain’t right.”

“I think we’re all agreed on that,” said Dan. His gaze was wandering. “Well, I guess I’ll go and see if our boys can figure out what that hoop’s doing up there on the wall in the second half.” He slapped Holmes on the shoulder. “See you around, Carl.”

“You get your butt over to the house and see your aunt, son.”

“I’ll do that, I promise.”

Rachel followed Dan and Matt back toward the gym, then veered off to bend over a drinking fountain. When she straightened up she found herself face to face with Roger Black.

8    

“Hello, Rachel.” He was out of uniform tonight, wearing a suede jacket open over a plaid flannel shirt; he looked freshly combed and shaved and smelled faintly of cologne. He smiled his crooked smile, and Rachel thought what a pity it was that some people were given, through no fault of their own, features that were just enough out of kilter to repel rather than attract.

His eyes at least are kind, she thought. “Off duty tonight?”

“Well, I worked today. I been on days for a couple of years now. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“It was kind of a last-minute impulse. I decided it was a good opportunity to see people.”

“Yeah, this is about it for night life around here.” The crowd was starting to flow back toward the gym doors. “Where you sitting in there?”

Rachel’s heart sank. “I’m with Matt and Dan and some other guys.”

“Would there be room for one more?”

Rachel opened her mouth to say I’m afraid not, but she couldn’t do it. “I’m sure we can make room.”

“Would you mind if I joined you?”

“Not at all.” She was already moving, thinking: This is going to be priceless.

Dan’s coterie had retaken their seats. When Rachel came up the aisle with Roger trailing her, they fell silent, watching them climb. “It’s the law,” said Dan. “What’d we do, Officer?”

“I’m off duty,” said Roger. “You could light up a pipeful of meth and I wouldn’t care. Can I sit here?”

The look that ran up and down the row told Rachel that Roger wasn’t the most popular man in the county, but after some grumbling they all shifted a place to make room for him. Matt stepped out again to let Rachel and Roger in, winking at her as she went by. Rachel sat down with Dan to her right and Roger to her left just as the teams took the floor for the second half.

“Well, ain’t this cozy?” said Dan. “How you been, Roger?”

“Busy. Three cars per shift to cover the whole county, and with the harvest over, too many idle hands. Today I had a domestic down near Bates City and then had to haul ass up to Anderson to chase down a drunk waving a gun. Then the paperwork, once we got him back to Warrensburg and locked up. More of the same tomorrow, no doubt.”

“Well, cheer up, buddy. Time to leave the job at the office.”

“You try looking at the things I deal with every day. Accidents, suicides, guys beating on their wives. You’d be depressed, too.”

After an awkward second or two Dan reached across Rachel to slap Roger on the knee. “You’re a fun guy to be with, you know that, Roger?”

Roger ducked his head, looking sheepish. “Sorry. Don’t mean to bring anyone down. You like basketball, Rachel?”

As a gambit it was lame, but she grabbed for it. “Sure. Makes more sense than football. Put the ball in the basket. I can understand that.”

“There’s more to it than that. There’s strategy and stuff.”

Dan leaned forward to peer at Roger. “I want to hear you explain what a matchup zone is.”

Roger grinned, knowing he was caught. “Hell, you were the basketball star.
You
explain it.”

“Damned if I know. In my day all we had was Coach Hendricks. His idea of strategy was ‘Follow your shot, dammit!
’
”

Roger said, “My dad never let me go out for sports. Too many chores.”

Dan laughed. “Well, somebody has to do the work in this world. I guess you got elected.”

With a studied casualness, eyes on the game, Roger said, “I did have the Grand Champion Single Barrow at the Dearborn County Fair one year. I guess that was what I did instead of sports.”

I am forty-three years old, Rachel thought, and I am sitting at a high school basketball game with two guys competing for my attention. “Look at those fancy sneakers,” she said, silencing them both.

Things did not improve for the home team despite a brief surge in the third quarter. Dan split his attention between Rachel and the guys to his right, while after a few banalities directed at Rachel, Roger eventually drifted into conversation with Matt. By the start of the fourth quarter Rachel was stifling yawns, and with five minutes left in the game and the home team losing by fifteen, the gym started to empty.

“We got a tradition,” Dan said, reaching for his coat. “After basketball games. We go to the Outback in Warrensburg and sit around and eat and congratulate ourselves on how much smarter than the coach we are. Oh, and we drink a little, too. Usually it’s just guys, but we’re willing to make an exception for you. You’re coming, right, Matt?”

“Sure.” Matt stood looking down at Rachel. “Coming along?”

This was another thing Rachel had thought she was done with: having to rapidly assess the social consequences of simple yes and no answers. She could see Roger wouldn’t be included in the invitation unless she insisted, and she didn’t want any hurt feelings, but she didn’t want to be in the middle of another two hours of sparring between suitors, either. “Actually, I’m kind of tired.” She turned to Matt. “Can you drop me at home?”

He frowned. “It’s a little out of the way.”

“I can run you home,” said Roger.

Take that, Danny Olson, Rachel thought. She smiled at Roger and said, “Oh, that’s so nice of you. Thanks.”

They made their good-byes in the parking lot. The look on Dan’s face was amused. “You keep your hands to yourself now, Roger,” he said. His posse snickered, the cool guys laughing at the doofus.

“I got a feeling Rachel can defend herself OK,” said Roger.

“Don’t make me slap you again,” Rachel said, playing along. Everyone laughed and she climbed into the passenger seat of Roger’s Explorer.

For the first couple of minutes they were silent, both of them laboring fiercely to find an opening. “You go to all the games?” Rachel said finally.

“Most of ’em. Not a lot else to do around here.”

Tell me about it, Rachel thought. “You ever think about moving, going somewhere else?”

Roger drove for a while before answering, steering smoothly with a hand resting loosely on the bottom of the wheel. “Thought about it. Not sure I got the courage.”

“Courage? Roger, you’re the one who faces down drunks with guns. I wouldn’t think courage is the problem with you.”

“Well, there’s courage and there’s courage. Drunks with guns I can handle.” He chuckled, a dry breathless sound. “It’s talking to regular people that makes me sweat. You know what I went through just to get up the courage to ask you to the prom that time?”

Please, thought Rachel. Don’t let this turn into a declaration of undying passion. “Well, you managed it.”

“Yeah, I did. I managed to get married, too, somehow. Not sure how I did it, and it didn’t last, but at least I can say I did it. Anyway, I always thought what you did was pretty damn impressive. Musta took guts to go off and live in foreign places like that.”

“I didn’t feel brave, really. Just curious. I just kept running after things that interested me.”

Roger seemed to consider that for a time before saying, “Well, we’re glad to have you home.”

“I don’t know that I’m staying, Roger. I’m just catching my breath.”

“So where you going next?”

“I don’t know. Ask me in a week or two.”

Another silence followed. As he turned onto the road that led to the Lindstroms’, Roger said, “See if you can get that nephew of yours curious about something while you’re here. Now there’s a kid that really needs to get the hell out of Dearborn County.”

“Billy? Yeah, I don’t get the impression he’s a very happy boy.”

“No, he’s not. He’s a smart boy, but he’s confused.”

Roger slowed, approaching the driveway. As he made the turn Rachel said, “Level with me, Roger. I’ve heard the rumors about Billy. How much trouble has he gotten into?”

Roger rolled to a stop near the back door, and put the car into park. “Not that much, really,” he said. “So far. I’ve stopped him for speeding. One time he was drunk and disorderly and wound up in the tank.” He hesitated, examining a fingernail. “And he was at a party last year where a couple of kids never woke up after taking some bad drugs somebody passed around.”

“Oh, my God.”

“We never could prove who brought the drugs. Some said Billy had a hand in it, but I’m not sure. I think it was his asshole friends, if you’ll pardon the expression. He’s got a couple of buddies who’ve done time, and they didn’t exactly come out reformed. Billy’s a lot better than the company he’s been keeping.”

“That’s so scary. But I don’t know if I have any influence at all.”

“Billy just needs to figure out what he wants to do with his life and go do it.” Roger turned his head to look at her in the dim light coming through the windshield. “If you can help him figure that out, you’ll be doing a good thing.”

Rachel pulled on the handle to open the door. “I’ll get right on it,” she said. “As soon as I figure it out for myself.”

The purring of the telephone woke Rachel up. It took her a second to focus: She had dozed off in front of the TV. She groped for the remote to mute it, then fumbled with the wireless phone to answer it. “Did you have to slap him?” said Matt in her ear.

It took her a second to think what he was talking about, and then she was irritated. “You and all your friends have overheated imaginations.”

“Relax, will you? I’m joking with you. Did I wake you up?”

“I was just watching TV. Where are you?”

“Just leaving Warrensburg. We ran a little late and I didn’t want you to worry.”

“You didn’t drink too much, I hope.”

“Just the usual amount. Don’t worry, the highway’s pretty straight right here.”

“Well, be careful. Listen, Matt.”

“What?”

“I’m not in the market for a boyfriend. See if you can put the word out, will you?”

There was nothing but static in her ear for a few seconds, and then he said, “I’m sorry, sis.”

She could hear the contrition in his voice. “Maybe I shouldn’t be so touchy. How was dinner?”

“The usual. Good for some laughs. We didn’t spend the whole time talking about you, I promise.”

“I’m sorry, Matt. Thanks for checking in.”

“Billy home?”

“No sign of him. Get off the phone and drive.”

“You got it. See you in a few minutes.”

Rachel sat with the dead phone in her hand, drowsy and dislocated. After a time she rose and put on her coat and went outside and stood in the dark beneath a breathtaking sky, shielded from the barnyard light by the house, looking at the far-flung stars. I have no place in this world, she thought.

Beirut was just a fading dream, sunlit and turbulent, a pain in her heart. There weren’t going to be any children, spoiled or otherwise. Paris was simply remote, a stage for the brave, hungry girl she had been a long time ago. And Washington had never been anything more than the company town, and she was done with that company.

Which left this. Could I live here again? Rachel asked herself. People do. They make their lives here and raise families and are happy. I could come home again. I could teach school and have time to write those books and make my way back into this life I left and maybe eventually find somebody nice who would rescue me from being a spinster, growing old with her widowed brother in the house they grew up in.

Sound carries a long way in cold air, and Rachel stood listening to the faint scattered disturbances of the night. The clanking of distant hog feeders, a car burning rubber away from an intersection somewhere down the road, the rumble of a far-off train. Rachel frowned, fixing on an angry grating sound just audible somewhere, she thought, to the southeast.

She identified it at last and turned to go back to the house, wondering who on earth was out at midnight using a chainsaw.