Nothing gold can stay (21 page)

Bill gave Moses a last kiss and pulled back to see Tim staring. She had the audacity to grin at him. Moses put back his head and howled.

Tims head snapped around to eyes front. He stared hard at the red lengths of salmon drying on racks and hoped his face wasnt as red as the salmon.

Next to him, Amelia moaned, a quiet little moan, as if shed had practice in hiding it.

“Keep breathing, he said in a low voice. “Keep breathing, steady, in and out, in and out.

“My legs dont stand up straight anymore, she whispered.

“Mine, neither, he whispered back. “Well be walking bowlegged by the time that old man is done with us.

She was silent for a moment. “Like cowboys.

He bit back a laugh. “Yeah. Like in the movies. He felt her shoulders shake. “Like John Wayne.

Moses, walking light-footedly up behind them, pounced, buffeting first one and then the other with rough but not brutal slaps about the head. “I see talking dont help your standing post none, boys and girls. Lets see if a little form will keep you quiet.

He took them through the form three times, going from commencement to conclusion slowly, steadily, progressing inexorably from one movement to the next and the next, grinning evilly at Tim when he became completely lost between the second and third Fair ladies, barking his disapproval when Amelia nearly fell during Turn Round and Kick Horizontally.

Its not fair, Tim wanted to say, youve been doing this for a hundred years, weve been doing it for a couple of days, you cant expect us to be perfect this soon.

At the end of the third conclusion, when Tim was sure in his gut that Moses was going to go for a fourth form, the old man straightened up all the way to his five-foot-seven-inch height and brought his right fist in front of his face, snugging it into his left palm. Tim and Amelia mimicked him. The three bowed.

“I suppose thats enough for now, Moses said grudgingly. “ Course the two of you got about as much style as a rhinoceros at the ballet. Dismissed until this afternoon. Go on, take a dip in the river. Theres a backwater about a hundred feet up the bank, shallow and still pretty warm. Go on, git!

They got.

It was a nice little pond, snugged into the curve of a short, smooth ridge of glacial silt and rimmed with tall reeds. Tim stripped down to his underwear and fell in face first. He surfaced to see Amelia standing on the edge, uncertain. “What?

She blushed. “I dont have a bathing suit.

“Just do like me and keep your underwear on.

She hesitated.

“Its real nice, he said. “Warm, and the bottoms sandy.

“Okay, she said.

He tried not to look as she undressed, but as with Moses and Bill, he couldnt help sneaking a peek or two. Her breasts were bigger than theyd seemed under her shirt, and she wore bikini panties hed only ever seen on magazine models. Her bruises were fading, faint shadows on smooth skin.

She was up to her waist when she saw him looking at them. She didnt blush this time.

“Your husband do that? he said.

She nodded.

“You going back to him?

She stood where she was, fingertips making circles in the water. On the opposite side of the pond, a lone brant honked at them and then was silent. “I dont know. Hes my husband.

“He shouldnt hurt you, he said, and he was filled with a sudden and welcome anger. “Nobody should hurt anybody.

She looked at him then. “Somebody hurt you, too.

“My mother. He swallowed, and said as much as he could. “My uncles.

She nodded, understanding without words.

“Nobody should hurt anybody, he repeated, and he turned and dived, as if the water could wash away all the bad memories.

They paddled around the pool, quietly at first, until he accidentally splashed her and, after a moments surprise, she retaliated. The battle was on, and before it was over a good third of the pool had wound up on the bank. It was an hour before they came out, giggling and shoving like a couple of kids.

With her wet hair sleeked back from her face and her skin flushed and damp, she looked like she was barely old enough for the sixth grade. He finished dressing first and tapped her on the shoulder. “Tag, youre it!

“No fair! she yelled, and charged after him.

They chased each other down the path, laughing, startling ducks out of the brush at the side of the river and an otter family into the water. She tagged him and surged ahead, and he pounded after her, skidding around a corner and running into her full tilt where shed stopped abruptly at the end of the path. They both crashed to the ground at the edge of the trees.

“Shh, she said, putting her hand over his mouth when he would have yelled.

He looked up and saw.

Bill and Moses. On the porch. Without any clothes on. Bill was on top, her hair a silver curtain around Moses face. His hands were on her hips, muscles flexing in his arms as they moved together. They were so caught up in each other they didnt hear anything else.

Tims jaw dropped and he turned to Amelia. Whatever he had been about to say was halted by the look on her face.

She held one finger to her lips and crept backward, one noiseless movement at a time. Tim followed. She halted in a clearing, out of earshot of the cabin.

He stood still, hands dangling, awed, confused, aroused.

“Is that how its supposed to be? she said, her face bright with wonder.

He told the truth. “I dont know. Liam had come into his mothers life only five months before. Hed caught them a few times in an embrace that was more than a kiss, but nothing like this.

“She was really liking it. Her voice rose to a squeak. “She was on
top
.

“Yeah, he said, because he didnt know what else to say. He couldnt get the picture out of his mind, the man and the woman doing the nasty, only it hadnt looked nasty, or sounded nasty. It had lookedwell, he didnt know how it had looked. All he knew was that it was nothing like what he had grown up hearing from the other side of the curtain. His body stirred. “Yeah, he said again, his voice husky.

She looked at him, suddenly aware.

They reached for each other at the same time. He was almost as tall as she was, and glad for it. She smelled good. She felt good. She tasted better than good, although their teeth kept bumping. He was afraid of hurting her, and she was afraid of being hurt. She looked a little like Christine, which helped him, and he was younger and smaller than she was, which helped her.

In the end, she stared up at him in amazement. “It doesnt have to hurt, she said.

He shifted on his elbows, careful not to let his whole weight lie on her, mindful of her bruises. “I guess not.

She moved experimentally. “Theres something else, though.

“Yeah, he said, closing his eyes and adjusting his body to match with hers.

“Tim?

He opened his eyes. “What?

“Did you?

“Yeah, he said, reddening.

“Was itdid it feel good?

He tucked his hot face into the curve between her shoulder and her neck. “Yes. I think so. I dont know.

She was silent for a moment. “Tim?

“What?

“Could we do it again?

FIFTEEN

Sunshine Valley, September 4

He rose with the sun and built up the fire in the stove. There was a pump handle on the edge of the sink. He saw her looking down from the loft as he filled the kettle. “The wells right under the house, he said. “Long as weve got a fire in the stove, the pipes wont freeze in winter. Fresh water all year round, and you dont have to go down to the creek to get it.

She murmured something, something humble, acquiescent, admiring. It seemed to be enough; he nodded, satisfied, and put the kettle on the stove. He smiled up at her. “Elaine the fair, he said softly.

She had already learned to be afraid of that tone of his voice, and her body went very still beneath the covers.

“Youll make us some breakfast, wont you, Elaine? Youre such a good cook, I can hardly wait to taste those pancakes of yours again. He went to the door. “Ill be back shortly, he said, and went out the door, closing it behind him.

She rose, scrambling into her clothes, buttoning her shirt up to the last button beneath her chin, cinching her belt in to the last possible notch. She could barely stand to look at the bed they had shared, but she knew enough to make it.

She climbed down the ladder and went to the little kitchen, all hardwood cabinets and counter, the same wood from which the furniture and the cabin itself was made. There was a Coleman stove on the counter, very similar to the one she had cooked on for Mark, and the sight of it should have moved her to tears.

The door, the only door into the cabin, a meticulously finished slab of wood allowed to retain its natural color, remained shut and mute.

She located the ingredients and the frying pan, and mixed pancake dough. There was no syrup, but there was brown sugar and maple flavoring and water, so she made some. She found a cone filter and a carafe and filters and coffee. All she had to do was wait for the kettle to boil.

The minutes ticked by, one by one, and still he hadnt come back. She looked at the door, looked away.

She found stoneware plates in a pretty Delft pattern and set the table. There was a full set of stainless steel flatware in a drawer, pristine and polished. She used paper towels for napkins, folded into perfect little triangles.

Something tapped at the window, and she looked up to see a spruce bough scrape at the glass. It was a tiny window, with four panes, barely big enough for a dog to climb through. Bears, she thought numbly.

The shadow of the bough shifted on the glass and she saw a faint smear of something. She found a bottle of Windex and washed it off. She washed the other window in the opposite wall, too.

The door had no window.

She swept the floor, depositing the dirt carefully in the plastic trash can. She dusted the shelf. It held three books, a collection of Shakespeare, the Bible, and
Idylls of the King
.

A small wooden box stood next to the Tennyson, a light layer of dust covering its hand-carved lid. She was clumsy and knocked the box to the floor, scattering its contents. A shaft of pure terror speared through her. She waited for the footsteps to sound. For the door to push open.

After a moment the racing of her heart slowed and she managed to kneel down and collect the items and put them back in the box. A cheap Claddagh ring, a wide silver bracelet that looked Southwestern, a plain gold wedding band. Five pairs of earrings. Two crosses on chains, one gold, one silver. A choker of crystals strung between tiny silver spacers.

Carefully she put them back into the box. Her hands were trembling. It took her three tries to get the lid back on, and she nearly dropped the box again when she tried to put it back on the shelf.

The shelf stood against the wall next to the door.

Taking up Windex and cloth again, she dusted the door handle, a handle shaped like a vine with leaves, with a latch beneath. She pressed down on it a little too hard. There was a click. The door opened.

A light breeze fanned her face. Sunlight dappled the floor. A bird called. Leaves rustled.

She reached out a hand, touched the door. Like everything else in the cabin, it was very well crafted. It swung silently outward.

She took a step forward, another, and the next thing she knew she was outside. No one shouted at her. No one grabbed her. No one hit her. No one forced her down, tore at her jeans, spread her legs and pushed painfully inside her. No one smiled his crazy smile at her afterward, patted her cheek in a travesty of affection and concern and said, “There, there. Youll learn. Itll take time, but youll learn. Youve been gone so long, I understand, its like a new place to you. You used to love it. Youll love it again.

Her heart beat rapidly high up in her throat. She took another step forward, another and then another.

A branch caught her cheek, the sore spot high up where hed hit her the night before when shed tried to pull away from him, and only then did she realize how quickly she was moving, walking, shifting into a kind of stumbling run. She had no idea where she was going, which direction was best, the trees and the cliffs behind them were so close, so overwhelming. There might be bears, but she kept going.

She stumbled out into a tiny, circular clearing. Late flowers were blooming, fireweed, wild roses, even a few poppies, orange and red and yellow. They grew up around the stumps of trees cut off at knee level.

Except they werent trees, or stumps. She took a step closer to the nearest one. One side had been planed smooth for an inscription.

“Elaine, she read. “Elaine the Fair, Elaine the Lovable, Elaine, the Lily Maid of Astolat. The letters were carved into the wood with the same care and craftsmanship demonstrated in the construction of the cabin and all its contents.

She didnt want to, she didnt think she could force herself to move, but her feet stepped forward on their own. The next stump was also planed smooth, also carved, also read “Elaine the Fair, Elaine the Lovable, Elaine, the Lily Maid of Astolat.

One stump after another, all planed, all carved. “Elaine the Fair. “Elaine the Lovable. “Elaine, the Lily Maid of Astolat. “Elaine.

Elaine. Elaine. Elaine.

Youll make us some breakfast, wont you, Elaine?

But her name wasnt Elaine.

She counted slowly, lips forming soundless numbers. One, two, three. Four. Five, six, seven, eight.

Youre such a good cook, I can hardly wait to taste those pancakes of yours again.

But shed never cooked for him before.

There, at the edge of the clearing, so faded it was almost invisible, nine. Ten, eleven.

Twelve. A gleaming new piece of wood with the dirt tamped around it still fresh and free from moss and lichen.

“Elaine.

Ill be back shortly.

She spun around.

He stood at the opposite edge of the clearing, fifty feet away.

He shook his head sorrowfully. “I told you not to go outside. Didnt I tell you that?