knew he was sad on these nights, and she tried to cheer him up by making faces. He smiled and let her think it was working, when the truth was that nothing could lift him out of depression at these moments.
Blocks, Daddy, she said.
Yes, honey, Ill take good care of your blocks. Theyll be here for you next week.
Her bedroom was at the rear of the small house, with two windows looking out toward the woods at the back of the lot. Mary danced into the bathroom behind him to brush her teeth. It was dark, and Clark went up close to the windows and studied his reflection in the glass. Puffed-up brown pouches sagged under his eyes. His sandy hair was too long; he needed to cut it, which he usually did himself to save money. His jeans were fraying. He could poke a finger through his left pocket to his skin. He wore a NASCAR T-shirt and a camouflage baseball cap.
Meeeeeeee! Mary shouted, flouncing back into the room and jumping onto the squeaky frame of her bed. She slept in a twin bed that was too small for her, but she didnt mind that her feet dangled off the end. There was barely room for Mary among the beanbag animals she collected. She wore a frilly nightgown that came to her knees. That was one thing that worried Clark whenever Mary was out in the world without him. She had no concept of sexuality, but her body said otherwise. She looked like a normal, healthy, attractive girl. She had no embarrassment, and she often stripped off her clothes and wandered around the house naked and couldnt understand why Clark insisted she stay dressed.
That was quick, Clark said. Did you really brush your teeth?
Mary nodded seriously.
Really? he repeated.
She folded her arms tightly and nodded again, her whole body quivering like gelatin.
Okay, he said.
Clark turned off the overhead light but left the lamp lit by her bed. Mary liked the room bright throughout the night. He checked her windows and locked them, because otherwise, Mary had been known to climb outside and run through the backyards of the neighborhood. She didnt sleep well. She might close her eyes for an hour, and then she would get up, and Clark would hear her bouncing an inflated ball against the bedroom
wall. If he wasnt too tired himself, he would get up and play with her, until finally she grew drowsy again. Sometimes she simply curled up on the floor, and he would pull the blankets off the bed and cover her.
He tucked her into bed. Her eyes were bright. Good night, Mary.
I love you, Daddy.
I love you, too, honey.
The ache in his stomach at the thought of her leaving in the morning was so great that he couldnt say anything more. He kissed her forehead, and as he closed the door, he saw her waving her hands at the ceiling in bed, as if she could see the stars and conduct them like an orchestra.
Clark returned to the sofa and finished his beer and opened another one. He thought about seeing Donna in the morning when she came to collect Mary. Donna lived across the bridge in Superior and worked as a legal secretary. Clark was in Gary, living in the white concrete block house that had once belonged to his parents. For five years, he had shared Mary with Donna from a distance, and for five years, he had hated the arrangement so much that it felt like a disease inside him.
It wasnt Donnas fault. The bitterness between them had long ago died into loneliness. They had married young and tried to make a go of it, but the pressure of raising Mary together had destroyed them. They each loved their daughter, but Mary demanded so much that they had run out of energy to love each other. Donna thought they should try again. She had made noises about making a fresh start. Two weeks earlier, when she had come to his house to drop Mary off, she had stayed there all evening, the three of them together like in the old days. After Mary went to bed, they had drunk wine, and laughed, and wound up sleeping together. They were kids again, the way it was before Mary, before the divorce. The sex felt warm and familiar. But when he awoke, he was alone. Donna couldnt face him. That told him all he needed to know.
He knew he should go to bed, but he didnt get up from the sofa. He watched television until his eyes began to blink shut and his head fell forward on his chest. He slept heavily, as if he had been drugged by exhaustion and alcohol, and had no sense of time passing.
Clark woke up to Mary screaming.
A terrible, wailing, nightmare scream.
He was instantly awake, but he was disoriented, unsure what was real.
At the end of the hall, in shadows, Marys door flew open and banged against the wall. His daughter was silhouetted against the pale light in her room.
Him him him him him! she shouted.
Clark dove over the back edge of the sofa and pushed himself off his knees, shaking his head to drive the sleep from his brain. He spread his arms wide. Mary bolted for him and grabbed his body so hard he nearly spilled over onto the carpet. Her skin was wet with sweat and fear. Her blue eyes bulged, and her nose flared as she sucked air into her lungs. Clark felt her fingernails digging like knives into his back. She held him with such fierce strength he could hardly breathe.
Mary, what is it? Whats wrong, baby?
Him him him him him him him him!
Oh, Mary, its okay, its okay, theres no one there.
NO NO NO NO NO.
Clark stroked her hair and sang to her under his breath. She trembled like a bird. This had happened the previous weekend, too. She had had a bad dream and imagined there was someone in her room and refused to go back in there for the rest of the night. Mary didnt know what was real and what was not. When she imagined something, it was the same as if it were really there.
Shhh, he murmured over and over.
She cried into his shoulder. He grabbed a fleece blanket from the sofa and wrapped it around her skin, covering her. Her tears were damp on his neck.
Come on, Ill show you its okay, he told her. Ill show you that no ones there.
No, Daddy, no, him him him him.
Oh, I know, I know, but it was just a dream, honey, thats all it was.
Mary shook her head while it was buried against his chest, and then she looked up with a panicked face, put her mouth against his ear, and whispered so clearly it made him shiver:
Window.
Clark felt chilled.
His fists clenched, and adrenaline made him alert. Clarks eyes streaked to the living room windows, which he had left open. They looked out on dark squares of night. The curtains breathed with the wind. He smelled
pine and rain. He didnt understand what had happened, but Mary wouldnt use a word like that unless it meant something important.
Clark lifted Mary off her feet. She was heavy, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and let herself be carried to the sofa. He laid her down among the cushions and kissed her and looked deeply into her eyes, trying to understand her, trying to make her communicate with him. He always cherished the idea that there was a place somewhere in both of their minds where they could come together and erase the canyon that her disability put between them. He just wished he could find it.
Im going to close the windows now, Mary. Ill still be in the room.
She pulled the blanket over her head. He went to the four windows that looked out on the front yard and slammed them shut and locked them. He saw spatters of rain on the glass. He went back and slowly peeled the fleece down from half of his daughters face.
Did you dream that someone was in your room, honey?
She said again: Window.
Did you see something outside?
Him him him him him. She pulled the blanket up again, hiding.
You stay right here, honey. Daddy will take a look.
Clark returned down the dark hallway to Marys room. It was past midnight. He turned off the lamp by her bed, and with the room black, he went to the window and looked out at the back lawn and the woods a few feet away. He didnt see anything. He stayed there for several minutes, watching, but nothing moved outside.
When he returned to the living room, he found that Mary was asleep again, with her blond hair messily sticking out of the blanket. He could see half her face, which looked peaceful and angelic. His own heart was racing, and he knew he would be up into the early hours. He sat down beside her, caressed her cheek with one calloused finger, and was rewarded with a sigh. She made little noises of happiness.
Clark eased himself off the sofa again without disturbing her. He was nervous, and he wasnt sure why. Children had bad dreams, and that was that. Even so, Mary rarely used such a specific word.
Window.
He retrieved a heavy flashlight from the kitchen and went to the front door and let himself outside. He locked the door behind him. When he stepped down off the porch, drizzle spit on his face. The leaves murmured
with the night breeze. He switched on the yellow beam and waved it around the yard, seeing everything that should be there and nothing elsethe weeping willow, the swing tied to the branch, the three old cars he scavenged for parts, the long grass that needed to be mowed. He stepped silently and carefully toward the rear of the house. He held the flashlight in a tight grip and led the way around the corner with the light.
Clark examined the backyard carefully. He didnt come back here often, except to push the mower around every few weeks. There was only a narrow strip of lawn, and behind it, the dense stand of birches and their white bark peeling like paint. He stared into the woods and had the strangest feeling that someone invisible was staring back at him.
He shrugged. His mind was playing tricks on him.
Clark went over to Marys window and shined the light on the sill. He realized that he could stand here with half his body above the height of the window, and if the light was on, he could stare inside and see everything.
He turned the flashlight down to his feet.
Near his own boots were damp indentations in the grass, and behind them, he now saw a track of other footsteps, running away and disappearing into the protection of the trees.
5
___________
Stride swung into the driveway of their cottage on the Point at midnight. There was no garage, just a muddy patch of ground where they parked. During the winters, they strung power cords from the house to plug in the vehicles and keep the engines warm through the frozen night hours. He squeezed his Expedition into a gap near the fence beside Serenas Mustang and got out. Light rain tracked him as he tramped through the grass and up the steps of their front porch.
The lights were off inside, but when he opened the door, he saw a fire glowing in the fireplace on the opposite side of the living room. The log had burned down to ash and embers. A ballad by Patty Loveless played on the stereo. Stride heard Patty singing about a woman dying and going up to the stars. He had listened to that song over and over when Cindy was dying, and even now, it made his heart break.
Serena sat in a lotus position on the floor, her eyes closed, her face calm. She had taken up yoga as part of her recovery plan from burns she had suffered during a fire a few months earlier. The mental intensity of the exercises also helped her manage the memories of abuse she carried from
her childhood. It seemed to be working. She was more at peace with herself than at any time since they had met.
Serena was totally different in appearance from Cindy. She was tall and full-figured. She had shoulder-length dark hair, but it was fuller and wavier than Cindys. Her face had a high forehead and emerald green eyes. Her skin glowed, but he could see the damage where her legs had been badly scarred. She was healing from the fireshe could run again without her legs or her lungs giving outbut she had come to accept that her body would always be flawed now. Not perfect. Not forever young. It was the devils bargain that everyone made with age, but Serena had put it off longer than most. She had covered herself up after the fire, even to Stride, but she was wearing shorts again, not caring if people saw. She had also gained a few pounds over the spring, when she couldnt work out with the intensity she had in the past. She was dieting to shed them, but Stride didnt care. He thought she looked voluptuous.
Her eyes opened as he took a seat in the leather chair near her. She carefully unfolded her legs and stretched them. Above her shorts, she wore a black bra over her full breasts. Her hair was tied into a ponytail behind her head.
Its late, she said.
Yeah, sorry, time got away from me.
Were you with her?
He didnt hear any jealousy in her voice, but he wanted to reassure her anyway.
No, I left Tish down at the boardwalk hours ago. I went over to the police archives and pulled the material on Lauras murder and began going through the file again. The next thing I knew, it was almost midnight.
She got to you, didnt she? Serena asked.
I guess she did.
What do you think of her?
Stride rubbed the brass studs of the red leather chair under his fingertips. Shes keeping things from me. I dont know what, but I dont like that. He added, I can tell that
you
dont like her.
Serena shook her head. Youre wrong.
Come on. I saw your hackles go up.
No, its true.
She
doesnt like
me
. Big difference.
How can you tell?
