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Scars Chapter 9 Always too much time to think…….
I spent three days in a house in Arrowhead. Just three days. In two years I shoulda been able to forget about it. Shoulda been able to go on with my life, shoulda put it behind me…… Yeah, that’s what I thought about my old man, too. I guess it doesn’t work that way. I guess nothing goes away, everything leaves a mark. A scar. But it’s funny what kind of things you remember the best. I’d been hearing her voice in my dreams. It was a sweet voice, and warm, like velvet in my ears. Not the kinda voice you expect a murdereress to have. She talked to me constantly those three days, telling me what she was doing, or gonna do; whispering things to me that made me sweat. I think she wanted to watch me squirm; maybe she was hoping I’d cry or beg. I disappointed her that way, too. Yeah, I remember her voice. And I remember the way she smelled. I don’t know what perfume she used, don’t know the name of it, but it filled my head the first time she sat down on my lap; strong and musky and intoxicating, and if I think about it, I can smell it again……… ‘Course she smelled different later, after the perfume wore off. I remember the scent of her body, and her hair. And later than that—the darkness of her arousal mixed with the sharp metal of my blood……the air in the room was rank with that smell…….. It was just three days, and a long time ago, but if I shut my eyes and let myself remember……… . . . It’s in my head. I don’t think it’s ever gonna go away. After he fixed my leg, the Doc asked me if I wanted him to do something about the scars. He gave me all the options. I could let him give me more---random---scars to mess up the symbols, with acid or the knife. I could have ‘em “abraded”, kinda sanded down till they were pretty much like the rest of my skin, although they’d probably still be visible if I got a tan. I asked him if he could remove them entirely. Take the skin completely off so there’d be no trace of them left. He hesitated a minute, and then said, yes, he could do that, too. If that’s what I wanted. You’re probably wondering why I didn’t pick one of those choices. The Doc asked me why, when I told him I was gonna keep ‘em. And Lynn asked me. Miss R. hadn’t asked me yet, but she was pretty inquisitive. I figured she’d get around to it sooner or later. I thought about it a long time. If the scars were gone, if we made ‘em disappear, it’d be kinda like saying they weren’t important. Like what happened to me wasn’t important. Easy to get rid of. Maybe it never really happened at all. Like if the scars were gone, I could be just the way I used to be. And I couldn’t. I’d never be the way I used to be, good or bad, ever again. It was only three days out of my whole life, not very long at all; but it happened. And it happened to me, and it was important. I wasn’t gonna let anybody say it wasn’t. You know? Arbutus didn’t ask me. I mentioned it to her once, sitting at her kitchen table. She walked around behind me on her way to the sink with the dirty dishes, put her hand on my shoulder for a minute. “I reckon when you get to where you don’t need ‘em or want ‘em anymore,” she said. “You’ll get rid of ‘em. Or maybe by then it won’t matter one way or another.” The phone was ringing when I walked in my door. It was the Rev, looking for Richard. He seemed kinda put out that I didn’t know where the damn fool was. Like I shoulda been taking care of him all day, like he was a kid instead of a grown man. You mighta noticed that I’d been leaving the Rev outta all this. I knew he’d look at me like I’d stuck a knife in him when he found out what had been going on after it was all over, but I figured I could pay that price. If I was still alive. He hadn’t been looking so good; kinda pale, kinda gray. Walked a little slower. Rested more. He wasn’t a spring chicken, after all; and getting shot had taken something outta him that he never quite got back. He needed to stay outta my messes. He hung up. I stood by the phone. Put my hands in my pockets and looked around the empty house. Charles’ train set was dumped out over in the corner by my chair. I sat down on the floor next to it, and picked up the engine. I remembered his face when he’d opened this box last Christmas; had to smile. Lynn told me he wasn’t old enough for it, but I got it anyway…….and she was right, he wasn’t old enough to set it up and run it by himself……but I’ve never seen so much happiness on one person’s face as I saw that day. He couldn’t sit still long enough to actually play with any of his presents. He hopped and wiggled and yelled and laughed…….so much joy for us, just watching him. Even Becky, who was more interested in the ribbons and the paper than her own toys, clapped her hands when Charles ripped open the paper and whooped in delight. I had a powerful urge to give him everything, buy him anything he wanted. To try to make up for the time I didn’t know him. And other things. But Lynn’s smart—she told me not to do that; she said I should just love him and that would be enough. I tried. I ain’t sure putting his life in danger and making him leave his home fall into that category. I moved all the pieces of track and the train cars out to the center of the room. It only took me half an hour to get it all set up. There were a coupla bridges, and an intersection, and a tunnel. 10 cars, a locomotive, and a caboose. Plenty of track. I could buy more pieces of track later, and more accessories, if we wanted them. Norma and I used to stand in front of the store windows at Christmas time and look at all the toys---if my old man was around, we couldn’t, but our mother would wait and let us look for a while. I looked at the trains; Norma looked at the dolls. One Christmas she told Santa she wanted a doll with blonde curls and a silky blue dress, and patent leather shoes, like she saw in the window. And she waited and hoped. I didn’t know what to do, I felt bad. I knew she wasn’t gonna get one. She was sure she would, though. Santa promised. And when we didn’t agree on something, most of the time she was right and I was wrong. So I almost believed it, too, by Christmas. I stole a little dolly brush and comb set for her from the five and dime, just in case. She found it in my drawer the next summer. She was playing with some of the other girls outside; I don’t remember what they were playing, but she wanted a pair of my socks to cover her hands with. I didn’t think about the set being in there when I told her to go ahead and get ‘em….. She didn’t ask me about it. She put it back, and closed the drawer. Sat down next to me on my bed, and put her arm around my waist, and said we could read a book if I’d help her with the words she didn’t know. She was just being nice. If she didn’t know the words, I probably didn’t either. I was looking for Norma when I ran into Arliss and the boys. I had to forget about it for a while; my leg was a problem, and then Becky was born…..And Lynn got so upset whenever I so much as mentioned Arrowhead, or going on any sorta trip. I let it kinda slip into the back of my mind again. It’s been more than 20 years since I’ve seen my sister, and we were both kids then. I probably wouldn’t recognize her if I passed her on the street. I guess that doesn’t make any difference, I guess you never stop missing the people that are gone. I hope Norma had children. I hope she had girls, so she could buy them dolls. I woke up the next morning on the floor next to the train track. Took me a minute to figure out where I was. My only excuse is, I’d had hardly any sleep for a couple of days. Guess I just dropped off without knowing it. Took a shower, got dressed and made it to work on time. Felt pretty good, too. Calm. Not worried, not anxious. Nothing to do now but wait for tonight. “Hey, there, Bud,” Herbert said. “We didn’t know for sure if you were coming in today or not. You get that business all straightened out, then?” “Just about.” “We never did see that woman you told us to watch for. Guess she didn’t come this direction.” Grinned; you could tell he was glad it worked out that way. He clapped me on the back, and said his hip was bothering him, and since I was in the office, and since it was Friday, if I didn’t mind he was gonna take part of the day off. I told him to go ahead and take the whole day. I had some paperwork to catch up on. Herbert brought me some more before he left. I’ve never been much of a hand with the typewriter; it used to take me a while to type up reports when I was on the force in L.A., and I don’t think I’ve improved much. So I had plenty to keep me busy in the morning. It wasn’t as hard to concentrate as I thought it would be. Like I said---calm. Sue, who worked in the office Tuesdays and Fridays, offered to bring me some lunch from the Dairy Dreme; but I needed some air. Needed to stretch my legs. I walked the three blocks to Roberta’s. Hardly settled into the booth before Dewey walked in and sat down at the counter. Didn’t look like he was packing today. Or else he was hiding it better. Roberta gave me a piece of cherry pie I hadn’t ordered; when I tried to pay for it, Peggy giggled and said it was on the house. I waved at Roberta, and she came outta the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “Thanks for the pie,” I said. “Well…..you looked like you could use it,” she said. She threw her dishtowel over her shoulder, and stood there. She had a funny look on her face; I couldn’t figure out just what it meant. She reached over and sorta squeezed my shoulder; then rubbed up and down my arm. It was kind of a funny thing. “You take care of yourself, Bud.” “OK.” She nodded. Turned around and walked back to the kitchen, stopping once to say something to Dewey. I thought about it all the way back to the station. Herbert was there again when I got back after lunch. Frowning. “I thought you were going fishing.” “I’ve been hearing some disturbing gossip, Bud. Isn’t there something you ought to be telling me?” I didn’t have to think about it. “No.” He heaved a sigh. “OK. I guess there’s nothing I need to do, then.” He pulled his tacklebox out from under his desk, and walked to the door. “You call my wife if you need anything, Bud. She’ll know where I am.” “I’ll do that.” “I’ll see you on Monday, then.” “Sure.” Sometimes I wonder how I got where I am. Like that day, waiting for night to come and Arliss to call, doing all the things I knew I was supposed to do. Stuck in the office doing paperwork. Back in L.A., I did the paperwork, mainly ‘cause Stens wouldn’t do it, but it was just arrest reports, shit like that. Not a big deal. Not like the pile Herbert had put on my desk so he could go fishing. I didn’t become a cop to do paperwork. Wendell White sitting behind a desk all day? You gotta be kiddin’. Gotta be thinking of somebody else. So, OK, what did I become a cop to do? When I got outta the service, police work seemed like the most likely thing, the closest to what I’d been doing. Something I already knew a little about. I figured Beckmann woulda been pleased. Now, I don’t know if he actually woulda been in favor of it, but then, I thought it was something he woulda liked. And I was a kid. I liked shooting guns, I liked beating people up. Got to do that, being a cop; got to let the bad guys have it in the ass. It made me feel better. ‘Cause a lotta things pissed me off, at least at first. Then, I don’t know, I calmed down a little. Didn’t feel so mad at everybody all the time. Except for the women beaters. I found out it wasn’t just my old man, there were a lotta guys that beat up their old ladies, and nobody seemed to care much. Except me. I took it upon myself to look ‘em up. Another part of the job I liked. A couple times I was too late. That bothered me. I felt like it was my fault, like I shoulda known somehow, like I shoulda got there sooner………like there was something I didn’t do that I shoulda done. That one fella, big guy about my age, got drunk and shot his wife in the back while she was running down the street to get away from him. Lots a’ witnesses. I looked at the body laying on the sidewalk where they pulled it to get it outta the way of the cars. She was just a little thing. Had blonde hair. Big blue eyes. Crooked nose, like it’d been broken and healed bad. The fella didn’t try to run away. They had him cuffed and standing next to the squad car by the time I got there. He didn’t even look worried. He was laughing and trying to borrow a cigarette from the uniform standing next to him. I volunteered to take the sonuvabitch to the station. The uniforms stopped talking and looked down at the ground or the other way down the street, but nobody said anything. Stens opened the passenger door and got in the car. “You might wanna get a ride back to the station with one a’ the other guys,” I said. He was quiet for a minute; then he said, “Sure,” and got out again. Nobody ever asked me anything about it. In all the years I was a cop, all the times I did what I figured needed to be done, there were only a coupla times anybody ever called me on it. Lynn asked me once if I became a cop to get even. I didn’t quite know what she meant; but we were talking about my old man, so I guess she thought beating up other guys mighta made up for not getting to beat up my old man. I don’t know that it did. Still wanted to kill him; that never went away. I’d do it again if I could. But what I’m getting at, is that I knew who I was then, and what I was supposed to be doing. And sitting behind a desk all the time wasn’t it. Knocking on doors and telling people to shut their damn dogs up wasn’t it. You can’t ever go back. I knew that. Shit happens. If it happens to you, then it leaves a mark, outside or inside, someplace. But some things should stay the same. You shouldn’t turn into a whole different person. You gotta be able to recognize yourself in the mirror……… I expected to hear my phone ringing when I walked into the house after work, but I didn’t. She made me wait. Jones showed up at my door just about supper time. “I just was checking to see if you needed anything, any help or anything.” “Thanks, but I’m fine.” He nodded. “Well, I don’t mean to butt in, but Miss Robideaux mentioned to me that you said tonight was the night. That you’re gonna, you know, see this woman. And I was thinking maybe I could help you catch her.” “If she’s watching me, you might scare her away.” “Oh.” He scuffed at the board in front of the door with his shoe. “The thing is, if anything happens to you, Arbutus is gonna have my hide.” “That why Dewey’s been carrying that old revolver of his in his belt?” “That damn fool. That thing’ll probably blow up in his face.” “I think you and Dewey better just go home and stay there tonight. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” “The thing is………you know, if you need some help, we’d be glad to help you.” “That’s good to know.” “Dammit, Bud……..you oughta let us do that. You’d help me if I needed it. And I know you helped Roberta out that time, with that fella from New York. You oughta let us help you, too.” “This is different.” “No, it ain’t!” “Yes, it is. You could get killed.” A pause. Watching his shoe, scuffing the paint off my door jamb. “You know I ain’t scared a’ that, Bud.” “I suppose not. But it’s not your fight. Not your time. And Arbutus’d have my hide if I let anything happen to you.” He laughed. “Yeah, she’s a corker, ain’t she?” I asked him if he wanted to go to Roberta’s with me for a bite, but he looked back down at his shoe, and blushed. “I’m meeting somebody else for dinner,” he said. You don’t have to be a genius to figure out who it was. I didn’t ask him about it. Just told him to have a good time. Made myself a sandwich, and settled down with the newspaper to wait for her call. Still calm. Didn’t read the newspaper. Looked at the train set still sitting in the middle of the living room. Becky’s toys were all upstairs in her room. We had the kids in the same room for a while, but moved Charles to his own room after a few months. Had to, so he could sleep. Charles was easy to get to bed at night, he went upstairs without too much problem, and usually dropped off almost right away. Not Becky. She screamed and fussed for an hour sometimes. Lately at bedtime, I’d been sitting with her up in her room until she got sleepy. Didn’t mind it too much. She was happy to sit with me, too; we looked at picture books and practiced words (she knew duck and dog), or sometimes she wanted to practice kissing. I guess I’m a sucker for baby kisses. Lynn sometimes poked her head in the door, and once in a while caught Becky and me giggling like mad when I was supposed to be putting her to sleep. Then we were in trouble. But not too bad…..and it was worth it. I let the phone ring a few times before I answered it. “Wendell……” she said. “Don’t play with me.” She didn’t sound quite so sweet. “Tell me where you are.” “Can I trust you? I’m beginning to have doubts. Was it only the ropes that came between us, or was it your stubbornness?” I was ready to say anything. I couldn’t let her slip away……. “I can’t stand being tied up. Tell me where you are.” “Have you been thinking about it today? Have you been imagining it?” “You won’t tell me what we’re going to do.” “I’ve been having an interesting conversation with your friend. He’s told me everything he knows……but unfortunately that’s not much.” “Who?” I didn’t think she was bluffing. She was nuts; she didn’t feel the need to lie. “He cries so sweetly.” Goddammit. “Who are you talking about?” “Lots and lots of energy. Everything is ready, sweetheart. Will you come to me?” “Where are you? Tell me where the hell you are.” “Don’t bring your gun. I’d have to do something nasty to your friend if I thought you were lying to me. If I thought you didn’t really want to be with me.” Took a couple deep breaths. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time. Waiting to see you again. Just give me the fucking address.” She laughed and gave me an address. I’d been hoping she was in a motel out by the highway, maybe, but this address was right in the middle of the residential part of town. “I’ll be watching you, sweetheart. Waiting for you.” She hung up. I didn’t take my gun. She said she’d hurt “my friend” if I brought my gun, and I believed her. But I didn’t need one, anyway. I didn’t want one. Not for this.
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