Season of Salt and Honey (20 page)

Huia finishes my slice of banana bread without asking, crumbs sticking to her pink lips. I have the urge to kiss the top of her head, her curls that smell like lemon-scented shampoo and fresh air, but don't. I notice that it's quite dark outside and wonder, idly, how I'll find my way home, though darkness no longer scares me.

Jack serves Huia a plate of fiddleheads and sausages, with a little puddle of tomato sauce on the side, then refills my cup with fresh tea. A phone rings in the hallway. He goes to answer it as Huia gobbles the fiddleheads and swings her legs and tells me how good they taste, talking with her mouth full.

“Right. Uh-huh.” Jack glances back at me. I can hear the conversation from his side only. “Right. So . . . how many? . . . No, no, I think I can handle that, Bob.”

I sit up straighter, consider standing.

“No, I don't think the Gardners need to . . .” He gives a forced laugh; his brow's furrowed. “Ha! Yes, well, you know how . . . Yes, Bob, okay, I'll be right there.”

Jack hangs up the phone, and I stand. Huia looks between us and puts her fork down.

“The cabin?” I ask.

He nods.

“
Merda
.”

*  *  *

Huia slides in between Jack and me in the front of the pickup truck. Jack's spades and rakes and other tools rattle in the tray
as we drive towards the cabin. When we arrive, we have to park quite far up the driveway because it's crowded with other parked cars. A black one with large, shiny hubcaps, a rusted Toyota, and Bella's buttercup-colored bomb—no surprises there. The music is loud, and there's lots of laughter and someone whooping.

“I'm so sorry,” I mumble to Jack, but he doesn't hear me, striding on ahead of Huia and me.

I see the cabin, a dark shape behind an orange bonfire with flames like fingers that wave at us. I take hold of Huia's hand.

“Stay close to Frankie,” Jack instructs her through the thumping of the music.

I peer into the dim light for someone I recognize but see only strangers. Two guys in the Adirondack chairs, drinking from long silver cans and laughing with their mouths wide open. Others are perched on cars, and there's a couple up against a tree, kissing as though their lives depend on it. I pull Huia closer to me. Jack's standing in the doorway of the cabin.

“Hey,” one of the guys in the Adirondack chairs says. I ignore him. “Hey,” he says again, “aren't you a Caputo too?”

Huia glances up at me, but I continue staring ahead. My chest tightens.
Bella.

“Yeah, yeah,” the guy says to his mate. “She's a Caputo, man. Look at her, would you?” He sucks airs through his teeth.

“You a friend of my sister's?” I ask bluntly.

“Who?”

I scowl. “You know who.”

The guy in the other chair pipes up. “I know you—Francesca, right? My brother went to school with you. Ballard.”

“That's great,” I murmur. “Come on, Huia.”

“Hey . . . hey! Weren't you with that guy, that hockey player? Yeah, Al or something?”

I freeze. “Alex. Gardner. This is his family's cabin,” I say, lifting my chin and wishing Jack would come out. I squint into the dark, looking for him, but the brightness of the fire makes the rest of the forest even darker. I'd even take seeing Bella at this point. At least it'd be someone familiar to be furious with. I will the guys in the Adirondack chairs to disappear in a cloud of smoke.

“Oh, yeah, that guy. Shit. Didn't he die?”

Huia glances at me again, her eyes wide. My stomach tightens and my breath quickens.

“Oh, yeah, that guy . . . I saw it in the paper,” the other one says.

“Yeah, man, it was in the news. He was really young, right? Like, your age?”

“Nah, more my brother's age. But young, yeah.”

“And this is his cabin? That's spooky.”

“Yeah, that's spooky, man.”

I notice now that one of the guys is holding a cigarette, except it doesn't smell like a cigarette. I grip Huia's hand and she nestles into me.

“You're trespassing.” My voice is taut.

“Nah,” one of them says, passing the joint to his friend.

“Yes, you are. This cabin belongs to the Gardners. You need to leave.”

The guy with the joint sucks on it and considers me. “Don't that mean it's yours then?”

“Yeah, don't you get it now?” the other guy says.

Jack reappears in the cabin doorway, but he's facing inside. Huia looks at him, but doesn't let go of my hand. It's my right hand, the one with Alex's big watch on it.

“I don't get anything,” I say through gritted teeth. “I get
nothing
.” I glare at them. “You have to go. The police are coming.”

Both guys look at me, paying attention now.

“Frankie?” A voice behind me.

I turn to face Daniel; he's shoving car keys into his pocket.

“Daniel? What are you doing here?”

Both guys stand. Daniel blinks at them, but they're busy downing the last of their beer and extinguishing the joint, wrapping it in tinfoil.

“I heard—” Daniel begins.

“I'm sorry,” I say. “I wasn't here, I didn't—”

He shakes his head. “It's not your fault.”

“Jack's inside. This is Huia, his daughter.”

Huia blinks at Daniel. He bends down to her level.

“Hey, Huia. It's a bit noisy, huh?”

She nods, then presses her face against my side.

Daniel shrugs and stands. “I'm not great with kids.”

“No. It's just . . . this . . .” I nod towards the bonfire and then the cabin, the source of the noise. “It's frightening her.”

“Yeah,” Daniel says, frowning. “Frankie, I'm sorry, but I had to—”

Jack comes towards us. His face is grim. Bella follows him. My heart pounds, angrily, at the sight of her. I could burn holes in her with my glare.

“Hi, Daniel,” she says calmly.

“Hey, Bella. Are you okay?”

I shake my head and interrupt. “ ‘Hi, Daniel'?! What the hell?”

Bella stares at me. Huia surrenders her grip and moves to her father.

“What is this?” I bellow.

“I know,” she sighs, her voice measured. “It's out of control.”

“Out of control? It's a mess! There's a
fire
!” I point to the flames, rage clotting my throat.

Jack tries to say something, but I ignore him. “You could have burned down the entire forest, and the cabin!” I yell.

Bella blinks at me, her eyes round and glazed, silent.

“And you . . . Are you
stoned
?” I hiss.

She doesn't answer, just continues to stare.

“Um, excuse me, Jack?” Daniel steps towards Jack and the two of them, along with Huia, now next to her father's leg, move away from us. I hear Jack apologizing to Daniel, and then Daniel apologizing back. The whole time Jack's big hand is against the side of Huia's head, to make sure she's still with him and to protect her from the thumping music. The two guys in the chairs have vanished, and I can't see the kissing couple by the tree.

Bella moves closer to me. “No, I'm not stoned,” she hisses, sounding incredulous.

“Well, you look stoned,” I shout. “I told you to leave, but you didn't. Instead you drugged me up on Valium! And now I come back to
this
!”

“Frankie, stop. You don't—”

“No!”

“This isn't what you think. I didn't—”

“Frankie?” Daniel says, cutting across Bella.

But I squeeze my eyes shut and wave my hand across my face. “No!”

Behind my eyelids I see the dark, rectangular hole in the green earth. How did Alex fit in that hole? He was so much bigger than that.

I jerk my attention back to the present. “Bella brings trouble wherever she goes. I'm sick of it!”

“Frankie, no, it wasn't Bella's fault,” Daniel says.

I glance at him. “Please don't fall for it, Daniel.
Any
of it.”

Daniel glances at Bella, who is staring, sadly, back. “Bella's a hurricane,” I say spitefully. “She leaves a wake of mess behind her. Always. A dusty, shitty pile of . . . broken . . . mess.”

Bella is biting her lip, and in the light that flickers from the bonfire I see her cheeks are wet.

Jack steps forward. “Frankie, she's your sister,” he says in a gentle voice.

“She's no sister!” I shout at her, my voice warped. Huia recoils, hides behind Jack. “She left! She just . . .
ran away
 . . . because that's what she does.”

“That is not true,” Bella says firmly, though her lips are quivering.

“You can't say she's not your sister, you can't ever say that, Frankie,” Daniel pleads.

“Can't I?” The voice coming out of my throat doesn't sound like my own.

I'm vaguely aware of new lights coming and going in bright waves. The sound of car tires.

“No, you can't, it's not fair!” Bella says. “You blame me for everything. You think you're so perfect?”

I shrug, like I don't care what she has to say.

“Yes, you do,” she says hotly. “You think you're better than me—with your perfect apartment, your perfect life, everything in order. Always the ‘good one.' ”

“
Someone
had to be!”

“You like it that way!” Bella shouts. “You act like I'm a big thorn in your side, but without me, without the bad sister, you wouldn't look half as good. In fact, you'd look—”

“What? Huh? What?” I challenge.

“You'd look ordinary!” she says, pointing at me. “You'd look scared! Your life is just a bunch of habits you can't get out of. Which is the truth of it, isn't it? You're just scared!”

Her words feel like a punch in the stomach.

“Don't,” Daniel begs, but Bella continues.

“You knew why I had to leave.
You knew
. You could have helped me. You should have helped me. You did nothing. I needed you!” Her voice cracks.

I ignore her sadness, the anger in me bubbling over like boiling water. “Are you going to tell them what
you
did?”

“What I did?” Her face is wet and confused.

“You talk about how I let you down. How you needed me and how awful I was. How about you?”

She frowns, unsure.

“With him? With my . . . I saw you, Bella! I saw you.”

“What are you talking about?” She glances around, as if someone else might have the answer.

“At the barbecue! I saw you!”

Her hand goes to her mouth. I feel a wave of satisfaction, but it's followed instantly by nausea.

Bella shakes her head, her voice steady now. “This whole time, that's what it's been about? That stupid—”

“What?” Daniel says. “What is she talking about?”

The lights are so bright now—two blinding headlights. And red and blue lights, circling, hitting the trunks of the trees. We become black figures, dense as statues, glued in place like pieces in a diorama. The music is extinguished and the forest seems to reverberate with the sudden silence.

Vinnie stumbles out of the cabin. He sees me and points. “Hey,
cuscinu
!” He's got a huge grin on his face and a stain down the front of his shirt. I stare at him and then back to my sister, whose hand is now shielding her face, protecting her eyes from the glare of the lights.

“Nice flowers!” says Vinnie, pointing to my hair.

Reaching up, I feel the crown of daisies Huia made for me earlier, the flowers soft and wilted.

“Oh, who called the cops?” Vinnie slurs, his arm dropping. Then he falls down the steps and laughs into the soil.

Perfect for an afternoon snack; serve in slices either plain or brushed with butter and grilled in the oven.

6 ounces walnuts

3 large ripe bananas

1
¹
/
₄
cups light brown sugar

3 eggs, lightly beaten

¹
/
₃
cup extra virgin olive oil

²
/
₃
cup whole milk

¹
/
₄
teaspoon salt

2
¹
/
₄
cups all-purpose flour

1
¹
/
₂
teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line a 9
¹
/
₂
x 5-inch loaf pan with parchment paper.

Place the walnuts on a baking sheet and roast for 10 minutes. Remove, roughly chop, and set aside. (Leave the oven on.)

In a large bowl, mash the bananas. Beat in the brown sugar and eggs until combined. Slowly stir in the oil. Then stir in the milk, followed by the salt, stirring as you go. In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and cinnamon. Add the flour mixture gradually to the banana-milk mixture. Stir until thoroughly combined. Stir in the walnuts.

Scrape the batter into the loaf pan and bake until a skewer or knife inserted in the center comes out clean, about 1 hour 10 minutes. Let cool in the pan for 10 minutes before turning out onto a wire rack to cool.

May be wrapped in foil and kept for up to 5 days or frozen for several weeks.

• • • •

T
here are two police officers, one tall and lanky, the other shorter and older, with his shirt threatening to jump out of the waistband of his pants. I hear Jack call him Bob.

Bella rushes to Vinnie, who's still sprawled on the ground, giggling.

“Sorry, guys,” Jack tells the cops. “It's wrapping up. I just got here.”

“We got a call after we spoke to you,” the older cop says. “Mrs. Gardner. She was quite insistent.”