8-Track (6 page)

“Yeah, I’ll be working around the house tomorrow. On Thursday I know I’ll be down at the lake house, other than that I should be around.” 

“I’ll call you,” Sam said leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

“That’d be great.” Bill watched her get out, still remembering the feel of her skin under his hands.

“Hello?”

“Boy, I thought maybe one of those darn bears up there ate you,” Ben said jokingly.

“Hey Dad. No, no bears yet.”

“Any plans today, son?”

“Just working around the house. Why what’s up Dad?” Bill laughed, he already knew where his father was going.

“Feel like driving down and hanging out with your old man?”         

“You’re not old, not yet anyway, sure.” 

“Great, I’ll see you around noon.” Bill knew it might do him some good to go see his father. He felt bad about leaving suddenly and not telling Sam, but knew she’d understand.

A loud knocking on Hubble’s bedroom door woke him from a sound sleep.

“Who is it?” he barked hoarsely.

“Hubble, its Buddy.”

Hubble opened the door a sliver. “Yeah, what is it?” he asked rubbing the crusty sleep from his heavy eyes.

“Morning sunshine, I need a favor. I told Cadillac Jack he could borrow some chairs from the hall. Can you help him load them into the back of his car, they’re for a party he’s throwing at his house later today.”

Hubble frowned and brought his brow down low. “Now?” he asked with a hissy moan. 

“No, but he’ll be here soon.”

“I gotta be somewhere man.”

Bud adjusted the brim on his Red Sox hat. “Listen Hubble, I’d help but I gotta be somewhere. I’m letting you stay here until you get your feet back on the ground. More of a favor than anything else.”

Hubble cut him off. “Whatever man, I’ll help Jack load the frigging chairs for his frigging party,” Hubble said before slamming the door shut.

It was hot, and the humidity in the air made it all the more uncomfortable. Hubble felt his shirt sticking to him like a wetsuit. He handed Cadillac Jack the last of the folding metal chairs.          

“Thanks for the help Hubble. I owe you a beer.”  

“Yeah man,” Hubble grumbled walking away.

 Jack got into his convertible sky blue Cadillac Coupe and drove off. When Hubble returned to his room he noticed the time,
a quarter past one
. Lifting the corner of his flimsy mattress he grasped a very worn looking brown leather sheath. Undoing the strap he pulled out the eight inch Morseth. Hubble brought it up to his face. Licking the sweat from his upper lip he caught his reflection in the mirrored knife.

Almost there, eight years of being patient, eight years of fucking waiting.
Hubble pressed the cold blade up against his unshaven stubbly cheek. Putting it down, he opened his duffel bag before taking off his right shoe and sock.

High as a young boy’s kite he emerged from the garage, making his way to the armory’s back door. Everyone was either at a lake or barbecue for Independence Day. With the door unlocked Hubble roamed inside until locating the file cabinets. It didn’t take long before he found what he was looking for.

Numerous clouds of white and gray woven together passed overhead as Eli finished washing his Lincoln. He was debating on whether to dry it when Sam drove up to the curb. Both she and Vanessa got out of the green 240Z, dressed in shorts and carrying several grocery bags. “What a couple of beauties,” he said unrolling the chamois.

Vanessa gave him a hug followed by Sam.

“I think it’s just us today, although I extended an invitation to Bill,” Eli said looking at Sam.

Sam remained quiet and mouthed thank you.

“No Hubble?” Vanessa asked with a coy look.

“Uh, no. That little shindig on Saturday was for him,” Eli replied before opening the door on his Lincoln and plucking his Zippo off the seat.

“Can I take your bike out for a ride today?” Sam asked.

“I don’t see why not, so long as the road remains dry.” 

“Bitch’n.” Sam strolled off into the garage, leaving Eli alone with Vanessa.

“Are we cool? I know that was hard for you on Saturday, but it shows you've moved on.” Eli ran the flint wheel over his thigh.

“We’re good. I wanna be strong for Sam, I don’t want her thinking that I can’t be the bigger person and forgive someone.”

Eli placed his hand on Vanessa’s shoulder. “Everything’s going to be fine,” he told her.

Through the patch like leaves on the trees, Hubble observed Bill’s house from across the street. There was no noise or movement from inside and the Jeep was gone. Staying hidden, he walked around to the back. A misty light rain began to fall. With the knife in his right hand he tugged on the slider door with his left. The thick double paned glass door opened with ease.
Dumb kid
. Hubble stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

It took him a moment to realize what was missing, there was no furniture. He ambled through the house before returning to the kitchen. Hubble found an out of sight spot on the floor. With the blade firmly in his hand he sat down and waited.

Fireworks exploded with a multitude of booms over the Jamestown bridge, bright descending colors of red, green and blue illuminated the clear night sky. Bill and his father were drinking beer, sitting in Ben’s backyard as they fell over Narragansett Bay. A continuous smell of sulphur and charcoal wafted through the evening air. “Thanks for inviting me Dad, it feels good being here. Not to mention the clear weather, it’s raining right now up in Conway.”

“It is a beautiful night son. Sounds like things are going well up there, I’m very happy for you.” Bill took a sip of his beer taking in the familiar scenery around him and thinking about how much his life had changed in just a year’s time.

“Yeah they are. It’s just, meeting someone like Sam was really the last thing on my mind.”        

“Maybe you should look at it differently.” 

“How so?” Bill asked putting his bottle down.

“Well, it was Laurie’s idea for you to take out the life insurance policy and that was long before she was even diagnosed. Maybe she knew something wasn't right with her, we can only guess. The bottom line is she wanted you to go on with your life after she was gone. It’s cause of her that you were able to buy the house, move and make a fresh start. Maybe it's fate.” Bill put his head back.

“You might be right.” Reaching for his Heineken, his father raised his own bottle as they clanged together.

“What time you leaving tomorrow?” 

“I dunno, I was thinking the later the better. Hopefully miss the traffic in the city,” Bill replied while the fireworks continued to explode overhead.

Hubble relaxed to the point of almost falling asleep when the phone in Bill’s kitchen rang. Jumping with the Morseth still in his hand, he listened as the answering machine picked up.

“Hey it’s me, we left Eli’s house early cause of the rain. I hope you had a good day and got lots done. I just wanted you to know, I was thinking about you today. Hope to see you soon.”

Hubble recognized the voice, he knew who it was.
Where the fuck was Bill? Did he go to the lake house? Had he been there all day? It was too dark to venture out there now.

“Another fucking day lost!” he yelled, his voice carrying through the empty house.
It doesn
’
t matter
. Hubble decided right that very moment, tomorrow morning he was going to the boathouse. He put the knife in his boot and exited through the slider into the pouring rain.

Later that evening Sam sat down at her drafting table. Tearing a piece of notebook paper from a three ring binder she began to pen a note.

“
Bill, I don
’
t know why but words don
’
t always come easy for me, it
’
s just not one of my strong suits. Ever since I was little, I
’
ve had a hard time expressing m
y
self. Maybe it has something to do with losing my father at such an early age. I can
’
t put into words what I
’
m already feeling, but I wanted you to know just how happy I am that you moved up here and we met. I
’
m also really glad we didn
’
t drown at the lake. They say people come into our lives at different times for diffe
r
ent reasons. I
’
m stoked that you
‘
ve come into mine. Thinking of you, Sam
”

Folding the letter Sam slipped it inside the jacket of the 8-track tape Bill had given her.

By the following morning most of the clouds had dissipated, leaving a dotted white sky far across the northeast. The sun was glaring, drying up most of the damp ground where it could. Hubble stood behind a large oak tree scanning the property,
no cars and no Bill, perfect.
Walking like a man with a single directive, he felt anxiety and anticipation grow with every step to the boathouse door.

This better be the right fucking key
. Putting the key in the lock he turned it and pulled on the handle. Long rays of sunlight were falling through the skylight and across the rotted body of the GTO.
 

With his mouth agape he lay his hands down on the hood and stared down at the half missing windshield. Tiny pieces of Matt’s brown hair still remained imbedded in the shattered glass. Hubble could feel it,
death.
Unhooking the crowbar dangling from his belt he went to the rear of the car. After inserting the fork-end under the trunk lip he thrust down with both hands on the bar. It didn’t take much for the rusted out lid to buck and pop open.

Eight years, eight years of fucking waiting in that shit hole.
The wide cavernous compartment released a damp mildew odor, like an old sponge. To anyone else the trunk looked untouched, only Hubble knew its secret. Ripping the dingy carpet liner away he crawled inside with the crowbar. Kneeling down he tucked his sweaty brow under the rear deck behind the backseat. Running his hand over the metal surface his fingers began searching for the seam.
Bingo
. Metal began to groan and creak as Hubble wedged the crowbar under it. With all his force he drove up until he heard it crack like a tray of ice-cubes.

After years of waiting it was finally within reach
. Silky strands of meshed tangled webbing and ingrained dust covered the rectangular zipper top bag. Hubble blew it off before dislodging it from its hidden cocoon.

The sound of the crowbar reverberated through boathouse as Hubble dropped it and kicked it across the cement floor. Kneeling down he licked his lips and unzipped the bag. The smell of old paper greeted him. Smiling he extended his arm and brushed his hand over the banded bundles of cash.

Seventy-thousand, now it
’
s finally fucking mine
.

Sam’s 240Z rolled down the driveway at the lake house like a mini go-cart, downshifting she spotted a Broad-winged Hawk circling above. Sunlight reflecting off the surface of the water was beautiful and sublime.
Don't stay long, give him back the tape, suggest dinner.
 Sam looked for Bill’s Jeep,
he’s not here?

Circling the roundabout Sam did a double take.
Bill had closed the boat house door and locked it the other day, only now it was ajar. Perhaps he went to the store for supplies,
she thought parking in the circular driveway.

Crossing the yard to the boathouse Sam noticed the water on the lake, it was moving in the same direction as she was. A chorus of Cicadas buzzing in the trees lent an eerie feeling. The noise was deafening, drowning everything else out. Pausing at the doorway Sam peered inside. Unafraid, she leaned in for a better look. From out of the shadows Hubble appeared in front of her.

“Hubble?” Sam said in a surprised voice, raising her brow.

Hubble remained silent, every muscle in his face tensed and rigid. Sam noticed his pupils, they were pinned, like tiny bottomless black-holes.
H
e
was high
.
A blue rectangular case under his right arm drew Sam’s attention, she read the white lettering on the outside of it.
 Federal Reserve..Bank of Boston..Boston 7 Ma
. Sam’s mouth fell open. Her eyes widened with terror, temporarily paralyzing her with fear.

Hubble grabbed her arm, yanking her inside and shutting the door. Dropping the money bag he threw Sam down hard on the floor.

“Hubble!” she yelled holding her forearm, close to her wrist. “You fucking asshole, I think you broke my arm. What are you doing here? What is that bag you were holding?” Hubble smiled and licked his lips.

“Aww, was you lookin for someone else, like your boyfriend?” he asked wiping the back of his hand over his mouth.

“You fucking sicko, we all trusted you. You’re nothing but a lying deranged loser.” Hubble smiled.

“Deranged? My shrink told me I was repressed.” Hubble touched himself. “Never had me no black pie before,” he uttered, the smile still frozen on his face. Sam felt a chill run through her body.

Moving swiftly like a spider monkey Hubble was on her. He tore her flimsy shirt open exposing her pink bra. With her right arm throbbing Sam struggled to get free. Hitting him with one hand she screamed as he fondled her crotch. Sam could smell his body odor, it was stomach-churning and his breath rancid like days old food. Hubble lifted his right leg, like a Rottweiler would to take a piss, marking his territory. As he unzipped his pants Sam brought her foot up from under and kicked him squarely in the mouth with her heel. Dazing him for a moment, Sam scrambled and bolted for the door.

A wide split on Hubble’s lower lip began to bleed. Bringing his hand to his mouth he spit into it. A fragmented piece of his front tooth lay idly in a mesh of bloody phlegm.

“You’re a fucking dead bitch,” he said drawing the Morseth from his boot. Sam was already at the door when Hubble got up. Sliding it open she escaped just as he came down with the knife, the thick steel blade barely missing her shoulder. Holding her right arm Sam frantically ran out into the backyard screaming for help.