Stone Junction (8 page)

Annalee flinched.

‘Shamus, you’re gone tonight. It’s not all set, but it’s pretty solid.’ He turned to Annalee. ‘You and the boy have a choice. You probably already know it, but you were keeping house for AMO – affiliates, so to speak. Some of the folks that stayed with you weren’t even AMO members – Dolly, for instance, we sprung just because we like her on the loose. Now she’s joined. And we’re inviting you to join if you want.’

Annalee, as blunt as Elmo, said, ‘Why weren’t we asked before? Or at least informed?’

Elmo shrugged. ‘Got me, Miss Pearse. I wasn’t there. But I’d guess there probably wasn’t much reason, seeing as how you were already sort of allied, just not official. We don’t stand on formality.’

‘What happens if we don’t want to join? Maybe we know too much.’

Elmo made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a chuckle. ‘No ma’am, you don’t know too much. Cause some inconvenience maybe, but nothing major. AMO is like mercury. That’s how we’ve survived for centuries. So if you don’t want to join forces, you get the car, the four grand, and our fond farewell. And we’d probably try to help you out if you took a hard tumble – but that ain’t a promise, just our likely inclination.’

‘And if we join?’

‘Interesting work if it’s available, fair pay, good people, expanded opportunities, and the shared benefits of alliance.’

‘Do you have school?’ Daniel said with an intensity that made both Annalee and Shamus glance at him. He didn’t notice; his attention was locked on Elmo.

‘No schools,’ Elmo told him. ‘We got teachers, though, that’ll take you on if you’re serious about learning. And we have sort of a loose network of doctors, too – some of them fairly primitive by AMO standards, but that don’t mean the medicine don’t work. So I guess you could say there’s some educational and medical benefits. Legal as well, come to think of it – some real sack-ripping lawyers. And that’s it for my sales pitch. Don’t mean to lean on ya, but we best move it along.’

‘What do you think, Shamus,’ Annalee asked. Feeling she might have slighted Daniel, she added ‘Daniel and I would appreciate your advice because we’re the two who have to decide.’

‘I told you my story,’ Shamus said. ‘They’re good friends and fair adversaries.’

‘We should join,’ Daniel said. ‘It’s practical. And some day I’ll need a teacher.’

Annalee shut her eyes and opened them almost immediately. ‘Sign us up,’ she told Elmo.

‘Done,’ he nodded. ‘And now if you’d like to check out the boat, I’ve got a few things to discuss with Mr Malloy. I’m sure you understand that ignorance is often the best protection.’

‘But that’s really knowledge, isn’t it?’ Daniel said.

‘Same difference,’ Elmo grunted, then added as an afterthought, ‘Our teachers will love you.’

Flustered by Elmo’s comment, Daniel turned and followed his mother out on the main deck.

When they’d gone, Elmo told Shamus, ‘Detroit by train tonight, then a tour bus across the border and cold storage in Montreal. We got us a boiling case of bad heat. That wacky scientist you latched still hasn’t turned up. Car you left him never moved. He could be stone dead in a runoff ditch or wandering around talking to rocks for all we know, and we pride ourselves on knowing those kinds of things.’

‘That you do,’ Shamus said.

‘If they find him, dead or alive, things would cool considerably.’

‘I understand. I left him off exactly as I said.’

Elmo chewed on his cigar. ‘No idea which way he might have drifted?’

‘Up. Lost in thought.’

‘Yeah.’ Elmo spit a piece of tobacco. ‘All right, we got a fucking UFO on our hands. Figures he’d be a space cadet.’

Shamus folded his hands on the card table, bare hand over the gloved. ‘So where are we?’

‘Volta would like some consideration for the time and money it’s gonna take to keep helping you.’

‘I have money. I’ll gladly pay you back, with interest, when I can get to it.’

‘That’d be the right thing to do, but there’s no press. What Volta would like is your cooperation. He said to think of it as a couple of years of honorable protective custody. What that means to me is he wants your word you won’t run amok for a while. Otherwise, we cut you loose right here – a car and two grand, same as we offered the girl.’

‘You offered her four,’ Shamus corrected him.

‘She’s got a kid.’

‘Good point,’ Shamus said. ‘Guess friends don’t come cheap.’

‘Nope – especially when you screw the heat to ’em.’

‘If I didn’t feel for sure that that guard off smoking a joint was an accident, a random twist, I’d have to believe Volta would have found a way to make sure I didn’t pull it off.’

‘I couldn’t say. Seems you did fine fucking it up by yourself. That’s what we got to deal with.’

‘Put me on the train, then, and somewhere down the line I’ll try to make it right.’

‘Another thing,’ Elmo said, pointing with his cigar stub. ‘The glove’s got to go.’

‘It doesn’t come off. How about a cast?’

‘Whatever.’

Shamus held up his gloved hand. ‘We could cut the arm off at the elbow.’

‘Whatever,’ Elmo repeated.

‘Speaking of fuck-ups,’ Shamus said, ‘any idea how they turned the ranch?’

‘Yeah.’

‘The pilot?’

‘You got it. They just missed your ass at the Nashville airport. Got the plane’s ID and somebody saw the switch in Denver. Took ’em a few days, but they finally run the pilot down in Portland. Pounded it out of him.’

‘I’m sorry about that,’ Shamus said.

‘Not as much as he is. He loved to fly, but he was fond of walking too.’

Shamus slammed his gloved hand down on the card table. ‘Goddammit, whipping on me isn’t going to change it. If you didn’t like my judgment, why did you people recruit me? Why did you send me to Jacob Hind? Why did you encourage me to study radioactivity?’

‘Hey,’ Elmo spread his arms, ‘why the fuck are we helping you? Huh? I’ll tell you why: because we all make mistakes.’

‘Trying to steal that uranium
wasn’t
a mistake. It just went wrong.’

‘Shamus, you’re talking to the wrong man – do I look like a debate team? My job’s to get you clear. You get to Montreal, you’ll have tons of time to sort the fly shit from the pepper. Right now, we’re moving on the quick.’

‘Fine,’ Shamus said. ‘Let’s move.’

They found Annalee and Daniel admiring the wooden drive wheel.

‘Ready?’ Annalee said. Shamus didn’t look happy.

‘Yep, ready,’ Elmo said.

‘Where to?’

‘You and Daniel, right here.’

‘Dubuque?’

‘Here,’ Elmo said, pointing at the deck. ‘We want you to restore the
Baton Rouge
to her previous glory. The drydock stuff ’s all done; she just needs the finish work. Use the four grand to get started. When you run out, call Dave Jaspars and mention the Historical Restoration account – he’s in the book. He’s your contact here. Any emergency, let him know.’

‘Whoa,’ Annalee said, head cocked. ‘How do you want it done? Shit,
how
do we do it? We’ve pounded nails and cut boards, but that was ranch-style construction – we’re hardly skilled. And what about colors and stuff? I mean––’

Elmo cut her off. ‘Listen, you figure it out. We don’t let dummies in AMO.’

‘Can we live on the boat?’ Daniel was enthralled by the prospect.

‘Sort of assumed you would, but you don’t have to. Us, we have to make some tracks.’

Annalee and Shamus kissed farewell with feeling. ‘Gold doesn’t rust,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘I’ll see you again.’

‘Promises, promises,’ Annalee murmured, then held him fiercely as she fought tears.

Shamus shook hands with Daniel, and accompanied Elmo down the boarding ramp and up the dock. Annalee watched till they disappeared across the landing. When she finally turned to look for Daniel, he was leaning against the railing behind her, watching the gray Mississippi slide by. She went over beside him at the rail and put her arm around him. ‘Well,’ she sighed, ‘what do you think?’

Still gazing at the river, Daniel said, ‘It’s just like Mark Twain described it. Beautiful and ugly at the same time.’

It took Annalee and Daniel nearly two years and $52,000 to refinish the
City of Baton Rouge
. For Daniel, the time passed quickly. When he wasn’t sanding the walnut stairs or painting one of the forty staterooms, his nose was buried in any book he could find on the subject of riverboats – especially their construction, appointments, and history. The old, grainy photos of the Natchez, the
Grand Republic
, the
Robert E. Lee
, and the
Mary Powell
moved him with their power and grace. He read about the great races, disastrous wrecks, and other river legends; the courageous captains and slick gamblers and the wily, drunken roustabouts. In the late evening, checking his set-line at the end of the dock for catfish, he imagined the whistles and bells of ghost riverboats passing in the mist. Each bit of knowledge, each feeling, brought a deeper and more passionate respect to his daily work on the
City of Baton Rouge
.

For Annalee, though, time moved as slowly and sluggishly as the Mississippi itself. The sense of accomplishment that animated Daniel didn’t move her as solidly. The work was interesting, challenging, and rewarding, but it didn’t thrill her – not the way the run from the Four Deuces had, not like the touch of Shamus’s glove at the base of her spine.

She phoned Dave Jaspars whenever they needed money for material or tools. The first time she’d called, he’d told her there was an account at the local First National Bank under her paper name of Maybelline Wyatt. She was now the widowed daughter of J. C. Allsop, a Louisiana sugarcane tycoon and original owner of the
City of Baton Rouge
, its landing facilities, and forty acres of adjoining riverfront property – all of which she’d recently inherited upon his untimely death in a New Orleans brothel. In a rather feminine voice, Dave Jaspars explained that the boat would be used as a communications center and occasionally for large meetings. To Daniel’s sharp disappointment, however, the steam engine would not be replaced, nor would any other means of locomotion be installed. The
City of Baton Rouge
would remain moored.

As the work progressed, there was never a quibble over expenses or style. Every call requesting money was answered with a prompt deposit in her account, and no issue of taste or method was raised. They never met Dave Jaspars. No one from AMO came to inspect their work. The only visitors were occasional riverboat nuts (whom Daniel always invited to dinner and pillaged for lore) and the workmen they hired for special tasks. Daniel, who favored wood heat and the original oil-lamp chandeliers, was disgusted by the power lines and the backup generators in the engine room.

Annalee had hoped they would finish by Daniel’s twelfth birthday, but they’d just started painting the dining room when March arrived. Annalee had given him his major birthday present – an excellent telescope – that morning, so when they’d finished his birthday dinner, they took the telescope up to the top deck and looked at the winter constellations. The chilly, wind-whipped evening soon sent them inside to the captain’s dining room, which they’d made their own. Daniel waited at the head of the table while Annalee ducked into the galley and immediately reappeared with his birthday cake, twelve candles blazing, and set it in front of him as she sang happy birthday. Daniel’s eyes glistened in the candlelight.

‘Don’t forget to make a wish before you blow them out,’ she reminded him.

Daniel thought for a moment, took a deep breath and blew out all the candles except the one in the center. Annalee quickly reached over and pinched it out.

‘I guess I don’t get my wish,’ Daniel said. Annalee seldom heard self-pity in his voice. She didn’t know how to respond to his sudden shift in mood. ‘You know what I wished?’ Daniel said, then continued before she could answer. ‘I wished I knew who my father was.’

She grasped the connection with his birthday, but she was still stunned. She sat down across from him, feeling suddenly old and helpless. ‘I’ve told you before, Daniel – I don’t know. I was young and crazy and lost. I was sleeping with anyone who’d hold me warm all night. It could have been a number of men. I wish I could tell you.’

‘Tell me,’ Daniel cried. ‘Tell me! You
have
to know!’

‘I can’t, Daniel. I honestly don’t know.’

‘Liar!’ He exploded from his seat. ‘
Tell me!
’ He raised his right arm and smashed his fist down on the cake.

Annalee slapped him so hard it numbed her hand. Daniel staggered, barely catching himself against his chair. He brought his frosting-smeared hand to his cheek, blinking rapidly at the tears.

‘Goddammit, you little shit,’ Annalee yelled, ‘it
hurts
. Do you think it doesn’t hurt me too?’

Crying, Daniel nodded mechanically.

‘Where is this coming from? Why are you doing this?’

Daniel kept nodding.

‘Talk to me, Daniel. You can’t do that to me and go hide. What is it?’

Daniel sobbed. ‘I just want to have something. Something I can imagine.’

Annalee understood now what he wanted. She sat down, suddenly calm. ‘I first saw your father,’ she began, ‘when I was hiding out at a resort in Anchor Bay, about fifty miles down the coast from the Four Deuces. There’d been a bad drought for almost two years; nearly everyone was out of water. I woke up one summer dawn and looked out the window. Thin fog was swirling outside, milky in the first light. I saw a man out in the pasture, a tall, bearded man wearing a top hat and a flowing black cape. He was witching for water with a forked stick, holding it in front of him. I could feel his attention as he worked the field. I walked out in the pasture and stood in front of him. He spread his cape on the ground. Without a word, we made love. When we were done, he covered my shoulders with the cape. Before he left, he pointed out into the field and said, “There’s a deep spring near the center, but there’s no need to dig. It’s going to rain soon.” And the next morning I woke to a soft, soaking rain.’

Daniel nodded solemnly.