A Shiver of Wonder (12 page)

“But – ”

“It’s not normal in your world, is it?” she
interrupted.

David couldn’t imagine a world where that
kind of thing could be
considered
normal. “No.” he
answered.

“So leave it. I’m not gonna pretend I
understand everything about Heck, or men, or life beyond what I
know. I have to take what comes my way and do the best I can with
it.”

“Do you think those two guys really did
it?”

Janice choked out a laugh. “Deke and
Thickman? Yeah, they’re capable. Heck was too, if you really want
to get down to it. He’d had his share of run-ins with other guys in
his business, and I don’t think all of them ended with a handshake
and a pat on the back.”

“But why? Just because he owed them
money?”

“Heck
always
owed somebody money. But
he always paid it back, too. Maybe they just got impatient. The
three of them were… friends, as much as anybody could be in that
world. But money is money. If you need it, and somebody else has
some of yours, you’re gonna take it.”

They had crossed Piston and Dr. Longworth
Avenues. Smithfield was next.

“Why do you think Clair told you to visit
your mother?” David asked. And then hurriedly, as she stared at
him, “I saw her earlier today. In the courtyard. It came up.” No
need to bring Bill into it.

“That girl does say the darndest things,”
Janice replied, still studying him. She broke their gaze as they
turned onto Smithfield, heading east. “It was a good thing I went,
though.”

“Why?”

“My mother had one of her asthmatic fits,
about two hours after I got there. Usually my brother Joey – he
lives with her – makes sure she has fresh inhalers, but Joey was
pullin’ graveyard that night, and she had no idea where anything
was. I drove her down to Emergency Care, they pumped her full of
Ipratropium or something that sounds a lot like that, and she was
back home in an hour.”

“So…” David was almost gawking. “If Clair
hadn’t said anything…”

Another dubious look. “
Maybe
she
wouldn’t have been okay, but she probably would have looked a hell
of a lot harder for her inhaler if she was the only one in the
house!”

“But Janice, it’s such a coincidence that
your going out of town that day maybe saved your mother’s life, on
top of your not being in Shady Grove during the day Wednesday when
it happened!”

“What?” She halted to face him, hands on her
hips. Johnson glanced back as he pulled up as well, most likely as
entranced by the sight of the indignant kewpie doll as David was.
“You really think that little Clair, who’s probably in
kindergarten, knew somehow that my mother was going to need to go
to the hospital? And that I’d need a good story just in case Heck
got knocked off in my apartment a couple days later?”

She glared at him, an eerie echo of
Genevieve at her challenging worst. A woman pushing a stroller
sidled quickly around them. A car honked twice as it drove by, but
neither Janice nor David turned to see if the summons was meant for
them.

“She’s in first grade,” David said quietly.
“Not kindergarten. And yes, I do think that she knew what would
happen to your mother. And maybe to Heck as well. I don’t know why,
but I do.”

Janice’s eyes remained obdurate, but her
chin rose as she began to bite on the insides of her cheeks.
Genevieve no more, she was thinking about it, mulling over the
doubts she had experienced herself once the sequence of odd events
had run its course.

“It wasn’t the first time she said something
like that to me,” Janice said.

“About your mother?” David asked.

Her head shook. “No. She knew I drove up to
visit her every few months. She asked me once where I grew up. I’d
gone to the garden to see if you were there, and she was there
instead, all by herself. We talked a few minutes, and after I asked
her where else she’d lived before, she started askin’ about me. I
don’t know, I usually shut down when people go there. But she
talked just like an adult and yet she was a child, so I guess I
felt okay tellin’ her.”

“What was it she said? I mean, that was
similar. And… where else had she lived?”

Janice’s eyes went blank for a few seconds,
and then she pivoted and began walking again. “Ya know, she never
said. I just realized that. How weird.”

They began to cross Second Street.

“It was my friend, Stacey. At The Hot Spot,
we usually work the same shifts. Clair saw me as I was leavin’ that
night. She was with that strange woman, but she stopped me and took
hold of my hand. ‘Wait until she gets on the bus,’ she said in this
low, serious voice. And then the woman came forward and they both
went upstairs. But that night, as I was headin’ for the trolley
after work, I turned ’round and saw Stacey, just sittin’ down to
wait for the late bus to Greenville. And what Clair had said
started to bother me. Who the hell else could she have meant? So I
went and sat with Stacey, and sure enough, a couple minutes later
her ex pops out of the bushes, drunk as a coot and in a fightin’
mood to boot. He got all belligerent, but we both just shouted him
down till he slunk away. She got on her bus, and I went home and
tried not to overthink it all.”

“Did you ever ask Clair what she’d meant?”
David asked as they turned right on Third.

“Nope! I didn’t want to find out. But when
she did that hand thing again and told me I should visit my mother,
I knew I’d be going. No doubt, no delay.”

And as had happened at the beginning of
their walk, the pair then lapsed into silence. Johnson appeared
unaware of the absence of conversation, continuing to drive forward
with the same eagerness he’d displayed throughout their saunter
through southern Shady Grove. They crossed Dr. Longworth Avenue,
and then turned left onto Piston. The Rainbow Arms was a block and
a half away, then a block, and then, as they traversed Fifth, a few
hundred feet.

Janice stopped walking before they entered
the lobby. David and Johnson halted as well.

“I want to thank you,” she said. She was
looking up at him, her expression somber and sincere.

“For what?” David signaled for Johnson to
sit, which the dog did obediently.

“For being kind. For listenin’ to me.”

“It’s nothing you don’t do with me,” he
replied with a smile.

“You never talk about yourself,” Janice
said. “I mean, you do, but you always shift right out of it and
then turn the attention to me again. Most guys, they… Well, they
don’t give a shit about nobody but themselves. So that’s it. I just
wanted to say thanks.”

David reached toward her to place his hand
on her arm. “Janice. There’s no need to thank me. Truly. I always
enjoy talking with you. I just hope that this whole thing that
happened – ”

Johnson had risen and barked, twice. David’s
hand fell to his side as both he and Janice turned toward the
street, where a dark blue Volkswagen Passat had just pulled up. The
window was rolling down.

“Shit,” David muttered as he caught sight of
Genevieve’s angry visage inside the vehicle.

“What? She doesn’t think…” Janice began to
say, but David was already striding toward the car, Johnson tugging
him forward.

“Hell – ” he almost managed to say, but
Genevieve overrode him.

“I called you. Twice. I texted you,
three
times. Let me guess. Yet again, you have absolutely no
idea where your phone is.”

David automatically patted his pocket, but
she was correct: his phone hadn’t gone along on the walk. “Is
anything wrong?” he asked. “What happened?”

Her face tensed, and she must have
accidentally touched the accelerator, for the car jerked forward a
few inches before the brakes were stomped.

“
Nothing
is wrong!” she exclaimed. “I
just thought I’d drop by and take you out to dinner! But obviously,
you’re busy.”

“No!” David leaned toward her, almost placed
his hands on the passenger side doorframe, but then thought better
of it. “We just took a walk. With Johnson. That was all!”

“And that’s exactly what it looked like,”
Genevieve snapped. “I always make sure to end
my
walks with
a caress or two as well. Have a good evening, you two!”

And then she hit the gas pedal deliberately,
flooring the Volkswagen so hard that the brakes practically
screamed when she had to slam on them at the end of the block. She
veered right on Fifth, and was out of sight in less than a
second.

Janice had stepped forward until she was a
few feet behind David. “Was that for real?” she asked quietly.

He turned and nodded. “She can get like
that. Must have been a long day for her at work.”

Janice pursed her lips. “I’ll trade jobs
with her any day,” she murmured.

David had to resist the urge to reach toward
her again. Underneath Janice’s rigid exterior he could sense anger,
disdain, disbelief, and a small dash of guilt. “We didn’t do
anything wrong,” he said to her. “I’ve always told her, we just
talk.”

Her eyes locked onto his. “I know it, you
know it, God knows it.” And then her head began to shake from side
to side. “But none of that means a thing if she’s got the wrong
idea stuck up top.”

“I’ll talk to her.” David looked down at the
sidewalk. “I’ll talk to her.”

David didn’t talk to Genevieve on Sunday
night. He found his phone in the most obvious place it could be,
charging atop his computer desk, and after feeding Johnson, he read
her texts and listened to her messages. An hour and a half later,
having allowed to elapse what he considered a reasonable
cooling-off period, he tried calling her, but she didn’t answer. He
decided not to leave a message.

Sunday was the hardest day of the week for
Genevieve. Gâteaupia was open Tuesday through Sunday, so it was her
sixth consecutive workday. And while the store’s busiest day was
Saturday, Sunday was when she did payroll, managed the upcoming
specialty orders, and dealt with baking supplies, and tax forms,
and the four hundred other miscellaneous chores a small business
owner had to juggle.

Sunday night was not usually David’s
favorite opportunity to spend time with Genevieve.

And her dismissive rudeness regarding
Janice… it must have been an exceptionally stressful day at the
bakery for her to lash out as she had. David had to admit that it
probably
looked
funny, him with his hand on Janice’s arm as
they faced each other in front of the Rainbow Arms. But seriously,
if he were conducting nefarious double-dealings with other women,
wouldn’t he have been intelligent enough to do so behind closed
doors?

Janice had asked if she should call
Genevieve, to at least leave her a message clarifying how she and
David had arrived at that moment. But David had demurred, knowing
full well how delighted an exhausted Genevieve would be to hear
Janice on her voicemail.

At eight, having had quite enough of staring
at the ceiling of his bedroom, David rose and, along with Johnson,
made his way through the courtyard to Bill’s cottage. He knocked on
the front door.

“Open!” was shouted from inside. David and
Johnson entered.

“Heyyuh. C’mon in ’n sit a spell. Game’s on.
Cubs’re eatin’ it, big time.”

Johnson trotted right up to Bill, who
grunted as he leaned forward in his easy chair to run a hand along
Johnson’s head. “Hey there, dog. How ya doing, Johnson, ole
fella?”

Bill was much drunker than David was used to
seeing. He felt in his pocket for his watch, but both it and his
phone were still in the apartment. Besides, he knew that it was
only a couple minutes after eight.

“Ya want one? Still a few in the fridge.
C’mon, have a sheat.”

David took in the scatter of empty beer cans
on the floor beside Bill’s chair. And then he shut the door behind
him, headed to the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator. A box of
pizza, two apples, and five cans of Miller Genuine Draft stared
back at him.

“Bring me ’nother?” was called out from the
front room.

“How about an apple?” David returned. “This
pizza looks good.” He poked open the top of the box and grimaced;
it looked like a puddle of congealed fat slathered over a cutting
board.

“Just the beer!” was shouted back with a
touch of distemper.

“Got it.” David grabbed two cans, and handed
one to Bill on his way to his usual chair. “Who’s playing?”

“Cubs ’n D-backs.” Bill cracked open the
beer. “Arizona’s killin’ ’em. Eighth innin’, no chance in hell
they’re comin’ back.” He tilted his head, and appeared to drain
most of the can in one swig.

David thought about not drinking any – Bill
would most likely blow through the rest of his stash in the next
half hour – but one less beer wouldn’t kill Bill, and David needed
a touch of
something
to alleviate his irritation. He popped
his top, and gulped down a quarter of the can.

“Good, ain’t it? Turned the fridge down to
the freeze my nuts off settin’ to get the Miller jus’ right.”

David loved it. The cold brew was exactly
what he needed after a couple hours of dry reflection.

“So… gotta ask ya somethin’, David.” Bill
lifted his remote and lowered the volume of the game.

“Fire away. Just don’t ask for any advice
about women.”

Bill guffawed, and an explosion of suds
sailed out of his mouth to splatter his pants. He didn’t seem to
notice. “Those days is done ’n gone. Done ’n gone, my friend. Old
Bill’s partaken of his last partakin’. Sad but true.” His beer rose
again as if to salute this.

David couldn’t even begin to formulate a
sensible reply.

“Saw ya in the garden today,” Bill went on
after a long hoist. “With her. With that girl.”

It took David a few seconds to realize that
Bill meant Clair. The episode with Janice and Genevieve had pushed
all thought of the morning’s encounter with her out of his head.
“Yeah?” he said aloud.