The Writer (13 page)

Max tried to use his crutch
to stop the door closing. Craigfield reacted by smacking him in the
face with a fist that felt like bronze. It came too fast for Max to
even brace for it, getting him on his left cheek, brushing his
nose. Max felt like his brain had been put into a blender. After
the initial pain his nose started hurting more than his cheek, and
that made his eyes water. But the shock of it was almost as bad as
the pain; the realisation that this man had attacked him totally
destroyed his confidence. He stumbled back from the door, dropped
his crutch and gripped at a fence handrail to stop himself falling.
As Craigfield’s door slammed shut followed by the click of the
lock, Max felt foolish and humiliated.

“If I see you here again,”
Craigfield called from somewhere inside with a very angry voice,
“I’ll hit you so hard you’ll think that was just a love
kiss.”

Max’s hands were shaking so
much that he struggled to close the gate behind him. Then he gave
it a kick, venting his frustration, and it swung away and then back
to the fence, to make a loud click on the latch. Max fearfully
looked back to the house, imagining Craigfield racing out and
attacking him again. There was only the quiet rain. When Max was
back in his car, safely out of anyone’s view, he couldn’t help
crying.

As Sophie walked down the
quiet street her footsteps echoed around the sleepy neighbourhood.
She enjoyed the sound of it, since it was the only noise around. It
was so different from where she lived in the city, where it felt
that anything she did caused no noise at all. She wondered if her
steps could be heard from the woods behind the houses, and as soon
as she thought that she became scared. It was not far from where
the body was found and the more she tried to put it out of her mind
the more her fear grew.

There was no pathway in this
part of town, only a dirt track bordered by the road and high
weeds. It was only half after ten at night and yet most people were
already asleep. Hardly any of the houses she passed had their
lights on, and the ones that did only had one room lit. She knew
people were nearby, and they would come to help should she call,
but she still found the quietness unnerving.

She stopped and told herself
to stop being silly. This was Gendry, the town where the worst
crime one could do was not eat at Sal’s. No one should ever be
scared in Gendry. She walked faster, happier with that thought. It
was not a warm night but she found the cool air refreshing, free of
the usual smog of the city. Free from crime, pollution, obnoxious
people and traffic. Why would anyone leave?

A horrible screeching noise
was coming from up the road, followed by the sound of a rushing
engine. Sophie stopped walking before she realised she had. As yet
nothing could be seen but Sophie still decided to move off the road
and onto the dirt area. This time she could not control her fear.
Then bright lights appeared, quickly silhouetting trees and houses.
The roar of the pumping engine became louder, as did the squeal of
tires. Sophie considered moving further away from the road, through
thigh-high weeds and into the trees. Then a horrible thought came
to her, that if she was hit and left in such weeds her body might
not be found for days. Just like that other one.

Then the car started coming
at her, changing direction without warning. Its bright lights
flooded around her and she reached her hands out to stop the glare.
The further she moved back the more the car seemed to be bearing
down. She froze and bellowed out the first genuine scream of her
life. At that moment the car violently swerved and threw up dust,
blasting past her with contempt. The dust prevented her from seeing
the driver or what type of car it was, or the plate, or anything at
all. Then she started coughing from both the dust and exhaust
fumes.

The car was going faster
than ever as it disappeared around the next bend, with more
screeching of the tires. Sophie continued on her way back to
Susan’s and she couldn’t stop shaking. At least she held back her
tears until she was safely inside the house. She couldn’t sleep at
all that night. At two in the morning she wrote some notes for her
novel in longhand, feeling inspired, and it was the best writing
she had ever done.

There were two people Max
expected to see at his door when the doorbell rang. One was
Craigfield, come to finish him off with a display of senseless
rage. The other was Jill. He had not seen or heard from his wife in
two days and none of her family or friends had returned his phone
calls. He was now at the point of not minding seeing either one,
since he would know for certain where he stood. It was the silence
that was difficult to take, as he waited for news that was probably
unwelcome. He wondered if anything would return to normal, or if
that was what he wanted anyway.

He was confused to see that
it was Paul Evans, dressed in a business suit and looking hurried.
It was like he had dropped in from work and was late in getting
home. Paul gave him a look that he wanted to make it a quick visit
and say as little as he could. He flinched his arm like he was
resisting looking at his watch. When Max fully opened the door for
him his expression became noticeably pained. He handed Max a letter
without making eye contact, and then took two steps
back.

“Max, I’m sorry I have to do
this,” Paul said as he looked at the floor, “but Jill asked me to
give you this. It wasn’t my idea, but I guess she didn’t want any
confrontation. So just take it, read it, and see where you want to
go from there. Again, sorry about it all. That’s all I’ve got,
sorry.”

Max said nothing as he
opened the letter. Paul shifted from foot to foot as he waited for
him to read it, taking note of his reaction. Max guessed that it
would all be reported back to Jill.

“I know you followed me to
find out what was going on,” it read in Jill’s familiar messy
handwriting, “and I’ll give you credit for that. But did you really
think shouting like a child in the street was going to solve
anything? What were you going to do when you caught up to him? Not
think of that, did you? Not realise he’s younger and stronger than
you? Perhaps now you’ll learn to know your limitations. You have
many limitations but you probably already know that. I certainly
do. From now on what you need to do is leave me alone to do my own
thing. I need my space right now and you need to understand that
and respect that. When I want you to know what’s going on I’ll tell
you. And I will tell you when I’m good and ready to tell you. Until
then I don’t want to see or hear anything from you. No visits to
his house or yelling in the street or anything else that will
embarrass me. Think you can do that? Stop causing trouble and we
can get through this with at least some of our dignity
intact.”

Parts of it were crossed
out, which were from Jill changing her mind either about the
sentence or spelling. Max finished reading and looked at Paul and
expected him to explain it to him.

“She staying with you, is
she?” Max asked.

“I can’t say,” he said
defensively and was genuinely regretful to break that news. “I know
it doesn’t say much; the letter. She thought it best if I came over
to see you, give it to you, let you know what’s happening. She says
you can keep living here in the apartment until you find somewhere
else, but she may want it back in a couple of months.”

“Why’s she doing this to me?
She tell you that?”

“That’s not in the
letter?”

“If it is, I missed it. But
you’d know that, since you’ve read it.”

“You know no man can get
inside the mind of a woman,” Paul said with an uneasy smile. He was
trying to be his buddy now. “I have a hard enough time trying to
understand Sarah. What kind of a world would that be to live in, if
we could know, anyway? Everyone understanding each other? Truth is,
I don’t want my one knowing half of what I think. And then they go
and say we can’t think of two things at once? Keep them thinking
that, I say, if only to keep them from prying into what we really
think.” He laughed, expecting Max to follow.

“What are you talking
about?” Max asked with a small shake of his head and a few
blinks.

“How’s your nose, anyway?”
Paul asked, changing the subject, clearly worried about getting Max
upset. “I heard he gave you a good tap. Blindsided you, did
he?”

“Do you really care,
Paul?”

Paul seemed shocked by that
and didn’t respond. Then he went to leave, but then stopped to look
back. “No, not really,” he admitted, more relaxed, more himself.
“You’re right. I’m Jill’s friend, not yours. And I only get on with
her because Sarah goes back a way with her. You know how it is, got
to keep your wife happy, and do whatever stupid thing they demand
of you. Oh, I guess you don’t do that. But now you do see why you
keep them happy and follow every command, or this sort of thing
happens. Tough luck, Max. See you around, then, I
guess.”

He walked away but then
stopped and thought he might be able to cheer Max up a bit with
another comment.

“These things work
themselves out,” he said, ignoring Max’s glare. “Just hang in
there, okay? Ask yourself, what would Elvis do?”

Paul looked like he expected
Max to laugh at his joke and when he saw that he was angry he
turned and quickly walked away, fishing out his cell phone and
acting like there was an important message for him.

Craigfield did not see his
two trackers follow him all the way to the train station. Kerry
wore a faded blue
Animal Matters
cap, which was his birthday
present and named for his favourite TV show. Jerry had a green and
white knitted hat with long earflaps. They both had hooded
pullovers with the hood down, and white shoes. There was nothing to
notice about them and even other children had no reason to single
them out. They knew how to hide in the open, with the general
public, like the best of spies could do.

A mixture of hiding and
blending with other passengers meant that they succeeded in
following Craigfield all the way up to the ticket counter, enough
to overhear what his destination was. Jerry thought that they
should go back home while they were still unseen, but Kerry had a
different idea.

“We can get tickets too,” he
said.

“Do you really think we
should?”

“All in the job. We can’t
let our customer down. Or did you want to apologise to our customer
and tell her we couldn’t complete the case because you didn’t think
we should get tickets for the train? You know that would mean she
would be our first dissatisfied customer?”

“She’s the only customer
we’ve ever had, Kerry. It’s just Sophie. This isn’t real.
Craigfield may be taking that train all the way to the city. We’d
be in big trouble if we go there and get stuck. You know we can’t
get lost in the city. What will we do if that happens?”

“If he’s going all the way
to the city then we go all the way to the city too. Are you a spy
or not? Am I the only spy in the family?”

“You know we can’t go into
the city. You know we can’t do that. Let’s go home.”

“And you know we can’t let
Sophie down. If we go home now, we’ll be empty handed. She’s the
only one who understands us. We can’t let her down.”

“She doesn’t understand us.
You don’t think she understands us? No one understands us and
that’s just the way we want it.”

“She understands us better
than anyone else, is what I mean. We need to do this for her. Come
on, Jerry. Because she’s family we have to go out of our way for
her. And anyway, the target might not be going into the city. The
train doesn’t just go there, you know. There’s other stops before
that. He may only be going to the next station.”

“He might be going to his
secret hideout,” Kerry said with renewed enthusiasm.

“And we’ll catch him
there.”

Jerry went to the ticket
counter to order for two minors for the next train into the city.
Kerry was still uncertain and would have protested the idea further
but he didn’t want to draw attention. There were already too many
people around and any one of them might know who their mother was.
When Jerry returned to his brother he held up the tickets in
triumph, with a big grin. Kerry returned the grin but couldn’t help
but think what their mother would do if she ever found out. He
removed his cap and touched the
Animal Matters
logo, to give
him confidence.

The apartment felt empty and
cold no matter how high he set the thermostat. Despite the fact
that Jill usually went out for hours at a time and Max was left
alone to work on his writing, this felt different. He could not
help thinking that he could do nothing to bring her back. He was
powerless to be able to see her that day and probably tomorrow.
Each time he tried to think about something else, his thoughts
would always return to her.

And his thoughts changed
from sorrow to revenge.

After spending a few hours
in thought, when he hardly moved from his easy chair, Max decided
on a revenge plan. He would make a legal change to his will. In
would go the requirement that, under the pretence that it was his
favourite song,
Hey Jude
was to be played at his funeral.
The long version. He never liked it or understood why anyone else
did, and hoped that there really was an even longer version. It
amused him to think of all the people at his funeral whom he didn’t
really like that much, being subjected to the song during such
solemn circumstances. Those few people he did consider to be his
true friends would be in on the joke, if he remembered to warn them
first. Then his mind ran away and he considered other music he
hated, like the “Pina Collada” song
Escape
, or the uncertain
ramblings of
I’ve Never Been To Me
, or even, in a twisted
tribute to his wife, the horribly dated
Afternoon Delight
.
Yes, they were his favourite songs. It said so in his will. His
only regret was that Elvis had never recorded them. Making him
laugh out loud was a few attempts at singing them with his best
Elvis voice.