Borderland (7 page)

He
chuckled. "My, my, ain't no fun when the rabbit's got the gun, is it? Why
don't we go in and get this story started? I can't wait myself. It's bound to
be a good one, and I'd like to have some popcorn ready for when the theatrics
start."

Myra
stared at him and he stepped forward, still smiling.
"Now, now, don't stand there with your scabby little mouth hanging open
like a two-dollar suitcase. Let's go in and get the show started."

"No,"
Myra
said,
backing away. "You've already made up your mind about me. For some reason
you've decided not to believe anything I say. I don't know what you've heard,
or who you've been talking to, but you don't know anything. Tell Mr. Kimmler
when he's ready to talk, he knows where I am."

She
whirled and had to force herself not to run from him. She was so angry she felt
the blood pounding through the veins in her head. Once inside the trailer she
touched the scab on her lower lip and wanted to use those same fingers to rip
out the man's cold, mocking eyes.

"Guy's
a jerk, isn't he?"
Cal
said from his position by the kitchen window. "Both
of them are. I don't like the way they talked to you, Mom."

Myra
took several deep breaths to try and calm her. "I
don't either,
Cal
. They've obviously heard some gossip in town and are
reacting to it. Maybe he's angry about the money
Darwin
left us. With no horses and no
way to run the farm, I don't blame him. But that doesn't explain their behavior
completely."

"The
blond guy just unloaded the trunk,"
Cal
said. "Mr. Kimmler's coming this way."

"Alone?"
Myra
asked.

"Yeah."
Cal
turned
away from the window. "He looks a little like
Darwin
, doesn't
he?"

Myra
nodded. "Let's just hope he has the same
temperament."

"Come
on," Vic Kimmler said when she opened the door. "I need to go back to
town and buy some groceries. We can talk on the way."

"Fine,"
Myra
said.
She asked
Cal
to get her purse while she slipped into a pair of sandals. At the door she
paused. "Will you be all right,
Cal
?"

"Of
course," he said. "Will you?"

She
glanced at Vic. "Of course."

When his
mother was gone,
Cal
wandered back outside and sat on the steps of the trailer.
Within moments he was joined by the smaller of Vic Kimmler's two daughters.

"I'm
Andy," she said. "What's your name?"

"
Cal
. Who owns the
convertible? Your dad or that other guy?"

"It's
Uncle Nolan's car. Me and Christa are going to wash it for him when Daddy comes
back. You wanna help?"

"Not
likely,"
Cal
said with a snort.

Andy
kicked at the gravel and looked aimlessly around. "Are there any kitties
here,
Cal
?"

He
shrugged. "In the barn. But they're wild."

"What
does that mean?"

"It
means they won't let you come near them. None of them are tame."

"Oh,"
Andy said, and her obvious disappointment made
Cal
smile. She was kind of cute.

"We
can try to tame them if you want to. Mom doesn't like it when I give them milk,
but if your Dad says it’s okay then I'll show you what to do."

Andy
clapped her hands. "Okay! When can we—"

"Andy!"

Cal
looked up to see the blond man coming down the steps of
the porch.

"Can't
leave you alone for five minutes without you wandering off. Get back in the
house and help Christa put your stuff up like your dad said."

"I
was just talking to
Cal
," Andy said defiantly.

"Well
just stop," Nolan said. "Go on or I'll back out on the candy bar deal
we had."

"That's
not fair," Andy complained.

"Tough,"
Nolan said. "Go!'

Andy
went, deliberately dragging her feet in the gravel.
Cal
started to go back
in the trailer when the man called Nolan stopped him. "Hold on a second. I
want to talk to you."

"I
don't want to talk to you,"
Cal
said. "I don't like what you said to my mother."

"And
I don't like kids pointing shotguns at me," came the reply. "I've had
my share of bad experiences in that particular—" There was more coming,
but he suddenly broke off and stooped to look at something in the drive.

"Goddammit.
That better not be from my car."

Cal
couldn't help himself. "What?"

"Oil,
or whatever the hell that is."

"It's
a good-looking car,"
Cal
said. "V-8 engine?"

"Yeah.
And clean as a whistle before this happy little martyr-making excursion."

"How
much is it worth?"
Cal
asked.

Nolan
straightened and looked at him again. "About three of you and six of your
mother. Did she have the landline in the house disconnected?"

"No,"
Cal
said.
"The lines were cut. Ours were cut, too. Twice. We had it fixed and they
cut 'em again."

Nolan's
raised eyebrows were two shades darker than his hair. "Who is they?"

Cal
shrugged. "We don't know. Probably the same people
who stole the horses. They got Mom's Mustang, too. They smashed a hole in the
radiator."

The
eyebrows were meeting now, making Nolan's nose look longer than it was. "A
hole? What about the old man's car? Didn't he have a car?"

Cal
gestured toward the small garage on the south side of the
house. "The
Lincoln
's in there. Got a ruptured gas tank. It's been there
almost a year."

The way
the man was looking at him told
Cal
that he was deciding whether or not to believe him.
"Come on,"
Cal
said. "I'll show you."

"Wait
a minute," Nolan said. "Was the radiator punched before or after the
phone lines were cut?"

"What
difference does that make?"
Cal
said. "They did it three days after
Darwin
's funeral. Me and
Mom have been stranded since then. And then last night they came and—"

"Why
didn't you walk to town?" Nolan interrupted.

Cal
's mouth tightened. "Because we were afraid of what
would happen if we left. We've done all right, mister. We have a garden and
two—well, one goat now. Mom was anxious for Mr. Kimmler to get here so he could
help her straighten things out. She called Ed Kisner, and then she called the
sheriff, but he—"

"You
mean you've been eating radishes and drinking goat's milk for the last ten
days? What the hell kind of mother have you got, kid?"

Cal
shook a trickle of perspiration from his temple and
stepped toward the blond man. "We didn't have any choice. It isn't her
fault. They came again last night and tried to run her down in the drive. We
surprised them with the guns I got from the house, but while we were out here
they were in our trailer killing our other goat and slopping blood everywhere.
I can show you that too if you want to see it, but if you say one more word
about my mother I'll break your ugly face."

The
man's mouth curved. "Relax, kid. It's a good story, but I'm still curious
about the motives here."

Suddenly
Cal
understood. It was the money after all. They didn't trust his mother because of
the money
Darwin
had left them. "If you're worried about the twenty thousand
Darwin
left my mother,
most of it is intended for me. He wanted her to leave here and get me started
in a college somewhere."

"I'm
sure," Nolan responded. "By the time you graduate from high school
that money will be long gone, kid."

It was
Cal
's turn to smile.
"I graduated last year, mister. And don't ask, because you don't want to
know my I.Q. I can get a scholarship anywhere I want. But we've got to get out
of here first."

The man
was staring at him. "You're shitting me. An honest-to-God child
genius?"

Cal
's spine stiffened. "I'm not a child. I'm—"

"Yeah,
yeah, you're thirteen. I heard you the first time. Dang. A genius."

"Don't
call me that. And I didn't make anything up so it's not a story. I don't care
if you believe me anyway. Mom will tell Mr. Kimmler what's been going on and
he'll believe her. We haven't done anything wrong."

"Maybe
you haven't," Nolan said. He picked up the end of his T-shirt and wiped
his face with it. "But I'm reserving judgment on your dear old Mom."

"She's
a lot younger than you are,"
Cal
said.

Nolan
snorted. "I doubt it."

"Wanna
bet?"

"Yeah,
I'll bet. What's the deal?"

"A
radiator for the Mustang."

"Christ,"
Nolan said. "You don't mess around, do you? No deal, kid. I'm not exactly
a rich man. And besides that, I didn't get a close enough look at her."

"Bull.
You got right in her face. You wanna bet or not?"

"Being
in her face and looking at her is two different things. I didn't look
look."

"Chicken.
You must be worried now,"
Cal
said.

The man
laughed. "You are a smart little bastard. But like I said, I'm not a rich
man."

"You're
probably richer than us. Mom is almost broke. We have to wait until the C.D.
matures in August before we can touch the money. She was planning on getting
the car fixed then, but we're both ready to get out of here. They can mail us
the money."

The man
was nodding. "Uh-huh. I see. And just where were you planning on
going?"

"We're
not sure,"
Cal
said. "It depends on where I decide to go to
college."

"You
haven't decided yet?"

"No.
I'd like to go some place Mom can get a job,
Los
Angeles
, maybe."

"What
does your mom do when she isn't stealing horses? Rob banks?"

"You're
a real jerk, you know that? She used to be a commercial artist."

"And
I used to be a hell of a ballplayer. In other words, used to be doesn’t count,
kid. If you're so smart, why don't you want to go to Harvard or Yale and be one
of the big boys?"

Cal
smirked. "When I decide what I want to do, I'll do
it. Until then, Mom's doing the best she can for both of us."

The man
shook his head and muttered something under his breath about mothers.
Cal
shook the beaded
sweat from his face again. "What?"

"Nothing.
Damn, that sun's hot. Where is this Mustang anyway? What year is it?"

"It's
a 'sixty-eight. We pushed it into the barn."
Cal
watched the man's
eyes light up in interest.

"No
way does she have a ‘sixty-eight. Let's go have a look. Hardtop?"

"Yeah.
Hey, we never settled the bet."

"We
don't have to. The only place you're likely to find a radiator will be in a
salvage yard somewhere; otherwise, it's going to cost more than I can handle.
But just out of curiosity, how old is she?"

"You
first,"
Cal
said.

"Jesus,
kid. All right. I'm thirty-five."

Cal
grinned at him. "Mom'll be thirty-three the first of
August.

"I
thought you said she was a lot younger."

"Come
on," Cal said in disgust. "I should've known you were a sore loser
from the way you backed out on the candy bar deal with the little girl."

The man
laughed again and held up his bandaged hands. "I haven't backed out yet. I
just used it to get her back in the…” He paused after glancing at the house.
"Now who in the hell was that?"

Cal
looked. "Who?"

"At
the kitchen window. She was there just a second ago. Long brown hair."

"Probably
one of the girls, "Cal said.

"They're
not that tall. Unless Christa was standing on a chair or something." He
lifted one broad shoulder and continued on toward the barn. "You might as
well start over again and tell me everything. And be on your toes, Boy Wonder,
because I'm going to look for inconsistencies in your story."