Authors: Travis Thrasher
Afterward, as they adjusted to standing again, David couldn’t keep the smile off his face.
“You like riding, don’t you?”
He nodded, the grin underneath his beard still evident. “I like being around horses—even if these aren’t the best-looking ones I’ve ever seen.”
“Thanks for keeping back with me.”
“Oh, it was great. I’d do it again.”
She looked up at him, and something took hold. Something locked them together. It was a moment. She felt it and knew it and he felt it too—the way their eyes connected, the sort of thing that happened in movies and romance novels. Something inside of her gave a little tug. Just a little. She looked away. But for that moment—it was a good moment. She hadn’t felt anything like it for a long time.
David thanked her and told her he needed to go. She didn’t ask where, but she did wonder where he was going. She knew that he was living with some friends, that he had commitments. It was okay.
“I don’t want to push my luck,” he told her.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think I could have enjoyed an afternoon more than today. So I want to leave on a high note.”
“Okay,” she said, still wondering why he needed to leave. Tonight could be enjoyable as well.
Norah Britt, what are you thinking?
This was not only her voice asking this, but her mother’s voice too.
“Do you work tomorrow?”
She nodded.
“Oh,” he said.
“You can still come for breakfast, you know.”
“Sure,” David said.
He began to walk toward Norah’s Mazda.
“Are you, um, busy on Friday?”
She feigned thinking about her day, going over all the things on her to-do list. She had actually planned on doing some laundry. But that wouldn’t last all day.
“Would you like to maybe see each other again?” he asked.
“And go horseback riding?”
“Or maybe go out to dinner.”
“You don’t have plans?”
“I could get away.”
He looked like he was about to say more, like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t.
“Okay, Friday, then,” Norah said.
“Where can I pick you up?”
“My home. The Lakeview Apartments. I can be waiting out front.”
“Okay. Seven okay?”
“Sure. Where do you want to go?”
“Somewhere nice. I’ll have a whole day to find a nice restaurant. Unless you have a recommendation.”
“Whatever you pick is fine.”
She thought of her outfits, the ones she had hastily thrown in the suitcase before leaving Harlan. Goodness knows she didn’t have the right shoes. She wasn’t thinking about dating at the time.
Do I have any business thinking about it now?
“It’ll just be a casual dinner,” David said, as if reading her mind and body language. “Nothing dressy. Just something fun.”
In other words, no pressure, no funny business. Nothing like that.
He told her good-bye without attempting a kiss or a hug or anything awkward like that. He just nodded and got into his car as she walked toward hers.
What do you think you’re doing?
Something fun
, Norah told the worrying, doubting voice.
She thought of Harlan and wondered what he would do if he found her horseback riding with another man. Or having dinner with him. All dressed up, her hair back the way Harlan liked it, wearing heels.
Harlan would be all over David
.
She was pretty sure David could take care of himself. But still, what if something like that happened?
I don’t belong to Harlan
, she thought.
I don’t belong to anybody
.
But it still might be a good idea to warn David.
Norah could see herself telling David her story. Perhaps she would risk it. She thought maybe he could understand.
Something told her he was the sort of man who could understand the things some other men—bad men—did in this world.
HE HELD THE FORTY-ONE-OUNCE Heckler & Koch Mark 23 in his hand and wondered if he would use it tonight. Probably not. But he wasn’t sure, and for that reason it was fully loaded. A ten-shot magazine with forty-five-caliber bullets. One would do the trick, probably too well.
Sean stared at passing strangers as they walked down a street where a dozen small cottages stood close together, side by side. He watched them from Ossie’s Chevy, the gun on his lap, out of sight. He wore sunglasses and was confident that nobody noticed him.
Half a life, and it comes down to this
.
What would he say? That’s what Sean needed to think through. The words. He wanted them to be well thought out. He wanted everything to be mapped out and almost scripted. He wanted to say things that had been long since buried in his mind.
But he knew it would be far too easy to lose control, to become angry or vindictive. And if that happened, he would destroy everything he’d done so far.
He needed to stay in control. Just a little while longer. So he sat there and before long he realized he was humming to himself.
Sometimes he still felt like a little lost kid, a kid who couldn’t speak up or speak out and could only find comfort in music. Music of all kinds, sure, but especially good old rock and roll. Music from the seventies. He figured he liked the seventies music because of his father, and that was one of the few things he knew he’d gotten from the man. The man who had disappeared when Sean was a kid and who somehow kept casting this huge shadow over him. A shadow he had spent his whole life trying to get out from under.
Wonder what he’d think if he saw what I turned out to be
.
Actually Sean liked who he had turned out to be. He thought he had done a pretty good job on his own. He had made it this far, and even if things ended badly, he knew he had made a good run of it. That was something to be proud of.
He looked at the gun in his hand and wondered how hard it would be to use it in this particular circumstance. That was the question. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t know if it would be the last thing on his mind or the first thing he thought of.
Patience
.
He put the gun back in the Chevy’s glove compartment and turned the key in the ignition. Elton John came belting out of the speakers.
“KURT.”
He was walking out of the cabin door, trying to escape the claustrophobic feeling that reminded him of another place, a
place he hated even thinking about now. A name that he tried to squelch, even though it whispered its name every passing minute, reminding him just who was boss.
stagworth
Sean opened the door behind him. Kurt stopped and reluctantly turned around, facing the small log cabin.
“Just a few more days,” Sean said.
“A few more days for what?”
“That we’ll be staying around here.”
Kurt looked at Sean with disbelieving eyes. He let out a laugh.
“What’s that for?” Sean asked.
“Sean, this is the end of the road for the Stagworth Five. Or Four. Whatever you want to call it. It ends here.”
“What are you talking about?” Sean asked him.
“Where do you want to go next?”
“It depends,” Sean said.
“Well, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Says who?”
Then Kurt lost it. He stalked over to Sean and got within inches of his face. “I told you I was in. I did what you wanted me to. I’ve
done
what you asked. And this is the end of the road.”
“What? ’Cause you met some little thing—”
Kurt interrupted. “Shut your mouth.”
Sean only laughed.
“Women. That’s the control they got on us guys. Happens all the time.”
“It’s not about her.”
“Then what’s your problem?”
Kurt shook his head, looked around, breathed in. “I didn’t get out so I could be on the run forever.”
“You wanna be found and put back in?”
“I’m not going back,” Kurt said.
“Sounds like a vow.”
“It is.”
“Then you gotta think.
Think
, man. With your brain, I mean—’cause right now, you’re thinking with something else.”
“I’m just not going to run anymore.”
“Because you found a lady?” Sean asked.
“No.”
“Then why?”
Kurt wasn’t about to go into detail about what he was thinking. There were a lot of things that Sean didn’t share with him or the rest of them. And he could do the same. It didn’t have anything to do with Norah.
really?
It was simply because he was ready to stop, and this was the place he was stopping. He was going to stop running and stop fearing and simply continue to live. For a little while at least. Until he couldn’t do it anymore.
You’re living a fantasy. A lie
.
It didn’t matter. He didn’t care.
Sean cut the silence after a minute, and it was like he hadn’t heard a word Kurt had said. “Look, we can’t stay around here forever. We’ve gotta move on.”
“I told you I’m not going. You gonna force me to leave?”
“If I have to.”
Kurt looked at Sean. His tone had changed, and something manic glittered in his eyes, contradicting his casual tone. The guy was an enigma. He was fun and likable but had this crazy streak in him. He said he didn’t want to kill, but didn’t think twice about doing it. He said he didn’t want to be caught, but sometimes Kurt wondered about that too. He was cautious sometimes, reckless sometimes. Not mean like Lonnie. But unpredictable.
The way Kurt saw it, something had been missing when this guy was born. Not a conscience, exactly, but something like that. Some vital human part was missing, some element of judgment and self-control.
“You’ll do what you have to do—just like you did with Lonnie, huh?”
Sean said nothing.
“Wes wants to go see his family,” Kurt said. “And Ossie—you can’t keep him here imprisoned. It’s over, man.”
“It’s not over until I say it’s over.”
“It’s over whether or not you want to believe it. You want to round us all up, that’s fine. But you’re just gonna make us prisoners again. You point a gun at us and force us to go—that’s no better than Stagworth.”
“Guess I’m the only one thinking straight out here,” Sean said. “I’m the only one interested in keeping us out of prison.”
“Then tell me
why
. Tell me why we came up here. Tell me the truth.” Kurt cursed. “Just tell me, and I’ll understand.”
Sean shook his head. “It’s remote.”
“You’re looking for something. You’ve got motives other than hiding out. I know it. I’m not stupid. In Texas you were looking for something. Wes said that. And back in Illinois too.”
“Maybe I found it,” Sean said, his eyes suddenly dark and ominous.
“So then what?”
“Like I said, it’s almost time to go.”
Kurt began to walk off.
“Kurt—”
“You want to be straight with me, then fine. Then I’ll listen. But otherwise—” and Kurt finished his statement with a very specific and personal curse. He left his—his friend? his partner? his cohort? whatever Sean was to him—standing there in front of the cabin door.
He had to.
He had a date.
IT WAS A FRIDAY NIGHT, and they were doing what other couples and families did. Going out. Enjoying the mild summer night. Enjoying each other’s company.
Their dinner had been at a nice restaurant on the lake. A restaurant that unfortunately reminded Norah of too many dinners
out with Harlan, where he ordered a bottle of wine and proceeded to drink most of. Where he ordered expensive items just for the sake of showing off his wealth. Where he would badger her about not trying items like escargot or elk.
But he’s not here, and he won’t be either
, Norah told herself.
David had read the elaborate menu and joked about ordering the kiddie meal—a hamburger and fries. Instead, he ordered the sea bass and acted like it was the last meal he would ever eat.
“Good?” she asked after he had eaten for a few moments in silence, his eyes blinking hard, his mouth savoring every bite.
“I’m sorry. Yes, it’s very good.”
She had gotten the crab cakes, which were excellent and filling. She offered a bite to David and he took it and couldn’t help letting out a delighted moan.
“What do you normally eat?” she asked him with a laugh.
“Not this.”
They polished off a bottle of wine and then skipped dessert so they could make it to an orchestra concert in the park. The night music started at nine, so they made it just in time to find a place on the grass. They didn’t have a blanket, but David made her sit on his jacket so her light-colored skirt didn’t get stained.
The orchestra played classical music. Neither of them knew much about it, but that didn’t matter. They just enjoyed the beautiful sound while they continued to talk to one another quietly under a canopy of stars and among a lively crowd of spectators.
“Can I ask you a question?”
David looked at her and nodded, his face shadowed in the dim light.
“Is there someone else in your life?”
“Like, am I married or something?”
She nodded, fearing his response, knowing he might not even give it.
“No,” he told her. “But I once was. I have a son.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “I haven’t seen him in years. And I won’t.”
“How come?”
“We got divorced, and it was ugly. Everything about that was—awful. And I wish I could say it was all her. It wasn’t.”
Waves of violins glided across the night.
“How old is he?” she asked
“He’s five years old.”
“That’s young.”
David nodded.
“What’s his name?” Norah asked.
For a moment she didn’t think an answer would come.
You’ve gotten too personal
.
“Benjamin. Ben.”
“I like that name.”
He grinned and nodded again. “So do I.”
She wanted to ask him more about his ex-wife, about Benjamin, but she resisted. So far the night had been more or less perfect. There had been a few awkward moments, times when she didn’t tell him everything she could have, times where she knew he was holding back. But this made it all okay. They both had secrets, both carried wounds from former relationships. That made them even, right? That meant they had something in common.