Approaching Menace (11 page)

“Colin,” Josie yelled as his hands enclosed the pigskin. “Don’t!”

“Smash him!” yelled a boy with a man’s voice. It was Ashton Blakely, the big guy Colin and the others called Mom.

“Don’t run.” Josie darted to the grass.

Colin sprinted to the edge of the Allens’ lilies and ran past a boy half a foot taller who dove, attempting to tackle Colin but only catching his ankle. Colin twisted free and scrambled across a long stick lying on the grass. “Touchdown!” he screamed and ecstatically slammed down the ball. Raising his arms, he wiggled his hips in a dance.

The brute Mom lumbered toward the guy Colin had slipped by. “Aw man,” Mom told his teammate, “you couldn’t even catch the runt.”

Colin pumped his arms in victory. Boys on his team ran up and slapped palms with him.

Josie strode to them, hating what she must do.

All motion stopped when she walked ahead of the smelly group. She reached Colin. “You know you can’t do this.”

His face lengthened, smoothing out his dimpled cheeks.

She glanced at the other boys. “Hi, guys,” she said, trying for a friendly smile. “Glad to have you over.” She hesitated and said, “But you know Colin’s not supposed to play football.”

Huffing boys gave her harsh stares. She felt like flaming arrows seared her chest. She saw Colin glaring. Wet hair plastered his forehead. He smelled like a drenched yard dog. Sweat and dirt covered the tape on the port on his arm. One edge of the tape hung loose.

She reached to tighten it, and he yanked his arm back. His face was red, yet pale around the edges. His chest heaved from running and now fury.

He swung his gaze to his peers and back again. His look asked “How dare you? How
dare
you do this to me?”

Stern boy faces stared at Josie, the enemy.

Colin loosened his grip on the football. “Come on, guys.” He tossed the ball to Mom. “You’re up.”

Mom tucked the pigskin under a beefy arm. “Naw, we gotta get going, huh guys?”

“I don’t have to go home yet,” a tall boy said.

Ashton, Mom, clasped him by the shoulder. “Yeah, you gotta get home.” He gave the boy a kindred wink.

The group scampered across the grass toward the sidewalk, the smaller boys following Ashton like hatchlings. All except Colin.

“See ya tomorrow, Colin,” Ashton called over his shoulder.

“Yeah, see you,” Colin said dully.

Before the boys were out of sight, Colin flung a scowl at Josie. She reached out to touch his shoulder but he withdrew it from her touch. “And we were winning,” he snapped. Her brother tromped to the house ahead of her.

As Josie strode inside, Colin slammed the door to his bedroom.

Sylvie came to the hall, polishing cloth with a lemon-fresh fragrance in her hand. She peered from Colin’s door to Josie. “What’s wrong?”

“He was playing football.”

“Oh.” Sylvie glanced at Colin’s door. She returned to the sanctuary of her own room.

Josie’s chest heaved. She was angry with Colin for roughhousing against his doctor’s orders and their mother for being so unconcerned. The boys who’d come over made her furious. Why had they made him feel so different?

But her main resentment came from having to be the one to point that fact out to him.

She leaned her forehead against his door. “I am so sorry.”

No sounds came. Surely he fumed, hating her.

She thought she heard whimpers. Josie moved off to leave him to his feelings.

In the den she turned on his music. Without a sound, Colin came in with a pallor replacing his cheeks’ crimson. His eyes kept diverted when he stood before her, holding his arm out. Josie removed the stained tape and was relieved to find his shunt hadn’t been damaged.

“I’d like to check your temp,” she said.

He clenched his teeth around the thermometer. He didn’t look at her while she waited, checked and then wrote the number. Ninety-nine and four-fifths.

Recording the temperature, she also wrote that he’d been running. Aware that he wanted to avoid her, she took her machine out. She would sew on what she’d cut out before dinner.

She began sewing a side seam, her stitch slowing when, across the room, Colin spoke.

“You should’ve seen me, Fred. I caught a bullet,” he said to his dialysis machine. Colin’s chest stuck out with pride, Josie saw from her outer vision. “Mom threw it to me. I crashed through Jimmy and ran in the end zone.” The little-boy voice deepened. “And then
somebody
had to go and make us quit playing.”

Josie didn’t have to raise her eyes to know his stare aimed at her. She kept her gaze trained on the black fabric beneath her fingers. Mashing her shoe against the foot petal, she made her machine work faster and louder.

An hour later, when tension in the house seemed to fold over on Josie, Andrew called. A friend’s car broke down. Andrew had been helping him all afternoon.

Josie told him what had occurred with Colin and now his fury. Andrew offered to shower and come over. “You sound exhausted,” Josie said. “I’m okay.” Her burden seemed lighter from having spoken with him.

On Monday morning Colin’s attitude toward her didn’t improve. He stayed out of the kitchen while Josie ate breakfast, and when they both headed toward the hall bathroom, he turned around and reentered his bedroom. Josie didn’t go out while he waited for the school bus but heard him coughing more than he had in previous days.

Convincing Sylvie to bring the new dress back to the store took a lot more out of Josie. She showed her mother the pattern she’d created from looking at the black dress Sylvie purchased. “I starting making you one exactly like it,” Josie said, eventually getting her to agree to get her money back. Sylvie appeared pleased but uncertain.

Work was slow at the shop, giving Josie time to herself. She adored her sibling and knew her own place in Colin’s heart, but also knew he hated being different from his classmates more than almost anything else in the world. He had grown paler and was looking weak ever since he exerted himself playing football. He kept coughing too much.

What Colin needed was someone else’s kidney.

Josie phoned Dr. Hagger’s office and told the nurse about his problem.

The additional cough, his slightly raised temp, and his pallor didn’t seem like major concerns to the nurse. They were symptomatic of the chronic respiratory difficulties Colin incurred. The nephrologists had surgeries scheduled and appointments booked. Colin’s situation was not an emergency. He could wait and come in for his regular appointment later in the week.

At work Josie flung around accessories, rearranging them. She moved hats to one end of a counter, and collars in a display case came out. Putting them together, she spread the group on top of the glass. Six people came in. Three made purchases.

Andrew phoned from work to find out how she was doing. “Talking to you always makes me feel better,” she said. Andrew assured her he wished he could be with her right now, holding her close, sharing kisses and more.

She wanted to be with him. By the time they hung up, she was experiencing heightened sexual tension. She smiled, anticipating their next encounter.

Walking toward the front of the shop, she spied a brown envelope jutting from beneath the door.

She lifted the sealed envelope. JOLENE JOSIEwas printed in large letters on the front. She shoved the door open. People headed in and out of stores. Cars pulled into the parking lot and others left. Nobody seemed interested in the shop.

Curious and uncomfortable, she let the door close and opened the envelope. It looked empty.

Josie ran her hand inside. Her finger touched a small piece of what felt similar to cardboard. She pulled it out and discovered a price tag. It was from a pricey store in the mall where Sylvie worked. The tag had been attached to an item that cost almost sixty dollars. Whatever was purchased had been cut off, except for a sliver of the hem from a blue fabric.

Josie studied the price tag. She peered at the royal blue threads, the hairs on her neck suddenly rising.

Shoving the tag back into the envelope, she scanned the store. Its silence pressed against her eardrums.

Hurrying to Cora’s office, she tried the door. It was still locked.

Josie gazed around the storeroom. Boxes and garments cluttered together. She peered beneath hanging dresses. No feet of anyone stood there.

“This is silly.” She backed away. It was nothing, only a price tag and threads in an envelope. Not knowing why it came to her or what person set it under the door made her remain uneasy. But she’d received only paper and threads. Blue ones. They made her recall something she needed to do.

Get Sylvie’s scarf from her car and give it back to her. She would do that as soon as she got off that evening.

Right now, she needed to call the bank.

Andrew was about to end his break and get back to work when he picked up.

She gave him a hurried account of what she’d found.

“You need to call the police.”

“And what? Tell them somebody left an envelope with a price tag for me?”

“Josie, somebody put that envelope under the door. And that person printed your name on it.”

“Yes?”

“It’s strange,” he said, pausing a moment as if to think. “Ask the police what they think. Maybe they can pick up fingerprints from the envelope.”

“Andrew, if this were written by a bad person, don’t you think he would have worn gloves to hide his prints?”

“I don’t know. Listen, I need to get back to work. Call the police.”

“I love you. See you later,” she said and hung up.

She stared at the envelope. Her name was printed in a strong handwriting. And she was being silly. Why would she fear a person who slipped an envelope under the shop’s door?

A teenage girl entered the shop, making Josie put away thoughts of what happened.

Josie sold merchandise to four customers during the afternoon. Better than some days. Not nearly good enough for Mr. Ripley to break even. He popped in for a few minutes, saw her selling a quilt to an elderly couple, and nodded. He had things to do, he said, but Josie had no idea what could keep him so busy. None of his family lived nearby, except his ex-wife, and he had no hobby he’d admit to.

Mr. Ripley tsk-tsked when he took cash from the register before leaving.

Josie’s car was hot as she opened its door after work. She sat inside, trying to recall something she needed to do. She pressed in the clutch and the accelerator, turned the key, and heard whining.

She tried it again. The sound repeated, and the smell of gasoline told her she’d begun flooding her car.

Turning the key off, she removed her feet from the pedals and forced herself to sit still. She stared out the window. A few cars were still parked. Only one truck passed on the street.

“Do this gently but firmly,” she told herself, trying the key again. The motor turned over. Josie pulled onto the street with a nagging apprehension about the brown envelope now in her purse. She had to do something.

Pick up Colin, she remembered.

He came from the field house looking less ragged than the day before. Obviously Colin hadn’t been running.

“Had a good day?” Josie asked after he flung his bag and himself in her car. He shrugged.

She started away, glancing at him from the side. “Did you get to work on a computer?” she asked, trying to get him to speak and at the same time spying the dark blue sedan she’d recently seen here. This time she wanted to check to see whose parent bought the new car. From the angle Josie had and its lowered visors, the driver’s face was hidden.

“No,” Colin said. He shoved his head back and shut his eyes, letting her know he didn’t want conversation.

Back at home, he remained in his room with his door open. From the hall Josie saw him at his desk doing homework. He coughed, noticed her watching, and covered his mouth with his hand to stifle the sound.

Josie set up the dialysis machine and said it was time for his treatment. He came right out, carrying a science textbook. “Have a test?” Josie asked. Nodding, he kept his eyes toward one page while she checked his weight and pressure. When she hooked him up, he stared at his book.

The phone’s ring interrupted their tension.

Josie’s friend, Cindy McAllister, sighed. “I’m bored,” she said. Cindy had lost her job with the construction company that shut down. She’d been trying to find other work, but employment was scarce. “I even tried some casinos along the coast. Nobody’s hiring right now. They all took my application.”

“You’re a hard worker. I’m sure something will come up soon,” Josie said.

“Thanks, but jobs are really hard to come by, Josie.” She sighed. “So what have you been doing? Still taking care of your brother. And your mom?”

Before Josie could respond, Cindy said, “I sure hope you have energy left over for Andrew.”

“I do.” By the time they clicked off, Josie felt weary. She didn’t like the reminder of how tied down she’d become. She wished she had more time to give to Andrew.

Returning to her sewing machine, she heard its running stitches, but thought she heard more. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a slush of footsteps from her past kept haunting. The steps came from her father and mother, walking behind, dragging her back into their mire.

Josie looked up.

Fred was making that noise.

She hurried to the machine, turned knobs, and made adjustments. Fred hummed once more, and the light stopped flashing. Colin only glimpsed at her.

Again sewing, Josie noted news from the TV. The last tropical disturbance had dissipated, but a new one was forming in the Caribbean. She saw its distance below the Florida coast and shuddered, hoping that one would also fall apart.

Going to her bedroom, she drew the large envelope from her purse and studied the printing on it. Her name was penned in large letters with black ink. No other markings. She took out the price tag and wondered. Nothing came. Too many concerns had stayed with her. She grabbed her phone and called Andrew.

His voice and Johan’s answered on their recorder. They were both out.

Monday night football, she remembered. The two had a ritual of going to their neighborhood lounge to be with friends. They loved the excitement of cheering with peers when the Dolphins played, and Josie always told Andrew to go. She needed to give Colin treatments on Monday nights, and Andrew had this custom long before she came into his life. She didn’t want to be the cause of it changing.