Borderland (8 page)

"Ass,"
Cal muttered. But he felt better. He had the feeling this guy could handle
whatever came his way.

He also
had the feeling they would need him.

CHAPTER 5

Christa
finished tidying Andy's drawers and turned to examine further the room they had
been given. The wallpaper had roses on it that she thought must have been a
bright pink at one time. It was peeling in several places and was completely
ripped away in one spot beside the bed. The bed itself was bigger than any she
had ever slept in, but of course she would be sharing this one with Andy. She
didn't mind. They had a whole house to play in, with stairs and everything. All
the rooms smelled kind of musty, and most of the furniture looked really old,
but Daddy said it was their house now. All of it.

"Come
on, Andy," she said. "Let's go exploring."

Andy
looked up from her sack of toys. "I can't find Georgie. Is he in your
sack?"

"I've
already put my stuff up. Georgie wasn't there. You should've looked for him
before you picked that sack."

Andy's lower
lip stuck out. "I did look."

"Don't
start crying," Christa warned. "It's your own fault. Do you wanna
come exploring with me or not?"

Andy
didn't. She wanted to sit there and cry about her silly stuffed turtle.

"Well
I'm going," Christa said. At the door she paused and put her hand on the
white porcelain knob. She didn't really want to go by herself. Not when the
house felt so strange to her.

"Andy…”

Still
sniffing, Andy turned away from her sack and walked to the door. "Maybe
Uncle Nolan will find Georgie when he goes back home."

"This
is home now," Christa told her. She led the way into the hall and paused
in the doorway to the bedroom across from theirs. It was bigger, but the bed
was the same size and the furniture was the same heavy dark brown as the
furniture in their room. Grown-up furniture. Christa had to give Andy the
bottom drawers in the chest across the hall; she could barely reach the top
ones herself. The one piece of furniture that differed from their room was a
big heavy-looking cabinet with a glass door. She pointed to it. "That's
for Daddy's guns. This is his room."

"I
know," Andy said. "That's his suitcase."

"It
used to be Grandpa's room," Christa added.

"Does
it smell funny to you?" Andy asked.

"A
little. I think maybe Grandpa died in here."

Christa
backed out of the room and Andy followed close behind.

There
were two other doors in the hall; one hid a big closet with lots of towels,
sheets, and blankets inside, and the other opened into the bathroom. After
inspecting the height of the rust-stained sink and deciding that Andy would
need a stool to brush her teeth, Christa turned to the ancient-looking bathtub.

"Weird,"
she said. "Its feet look like lion's paws. I guess the thing sticking out
of the wall is the shower."

"Guess
so," Andy said seriously, though she wasn't big enough to take showers
yet.

Christa
turned to leave then she paused as the skin on her arms prickled. "Did you
feel that?" she murmured.

"What?"
said Andy.

Christa
stood poised, waiting for the sensation again. "It got real cold for a
second. By the bathtub."

Andy
looked at her sister. "Your arms are goosey."

"Weird,"
Christa repeated. "Come on. Let's go find Uncle Nolan's room. He'll
probably sleep upstairs."

"All
by himself?" Andy said. "Won't he be scared?"

“He
doesn't get scared, Andy. He's a grownup."

They
left the hall and stood at the foot of the stairs. Beyond them was the living
room with its scuffed wood floor, sooty stone fireplace and un-matching
furniture. Next was the dining room with the widest, longest table Christa had
ever seen. Then there was the big kitchen with the empty cabinets, warped
floors, and dusty, unplugged appliances.

"How
come everything here looks so old?" Andy asked. She was eyeing the torn
and faded wallpaper, not roses but little white flowers here in the dim hall.

"Because
it is," Christa answered. Even the brown braided rug beneath their feet
was so faded it seemed almost gray. "See the lines, Andy?" She
pointed. "We can use those as a road for Barbie's car. Like a
racetrack."

"Yeah,"
Andy said with interest. Then she lifted her head. "Are we going
upstairs?"

"Where's
Uncle Nolan?" Christa replied.

"Talking
to Cal."

Christa
glanced toward the living room. "He's cute. I like boys with blond
hair."

"Like
Uncle Nolan," Andy said. "Christa, are we going up there?"

Christa
looked up. There was no rail, only wooden steps and the walls to hang on to.
The stairs looked steep. She counted twelve steps. At the top she could see
nothing, but she knew what was up there. Uncle Nolan's room was up there. And
something else was up there too. Christa suddenly changed her mind about
exploring the upstairs part of the house. It might not be safe. It would be
even hotter and stuffier up there and Andy might fall and get hurt on the
steps…and whatever was up there might get them

She
turned to her sister. "Let's go find Uncle Nolan instead."

Andy
looked relieved. "Okay. I want a sandwich first, Christa, I'm hungry. I'm
thirsty too. It's too hot in there."

Christa
pushed her away from the stairs. "It's hot because there's no
air-conditioner. And we don't have anything to fix a sandwich with. We'll eat
when Daddy gets back."

"Oh
yeah. I forgot." Andy followed her through the living room then paused.
"What’s that? I was going to ask you before but we—"

"What?"
Christa turned. "Oh. That's a piano. See, that thing on the front lifts up
and you play the keys underneath. We had one in music class at school."

"Can
we play with it?" Andy asked.

"Daddy
said not to touch anything until he got back from the store."

"I
just wanna look at it. Can't we just look?"

"Okay."
Christa heaved an exaggerated sigh and went to lift the lid on the piano. The
keys beneath were yellow with age. She plunked one and smiled. Andy giggled and
moved to stand beside her. "Play it."

"I
don't know how to play it," Christa said.

"I
do," said a voice behind them.

Christa
couldn't stop the shriek that came out of her throat. Andy instinctively
clutched her arm.

"Did
I scare you?" Nolan said with a laugh. "Here, move over and let me
get that bench out. Damn, it's hot in here. We need to open some windows and
find a fan."

He
pulled the bench from beneath the keyboard and sat down. "I used to have
an old upright like this. Not as old as this one, though. It probably hasn't
been tuned in years. Remember the one we saw in Dodge City?"

"No,"
Andy said.

"Can
you really play?" Christa asked.

"With
these bandages, probably not. Let's see."

It
sounded like playing to Christa, and Andy squealed in delight as a tune rolled
out from beneath his fingers.

Then he
stopped. "Shit. Can't play these mitts. How about a little Jerry Lee
Lewis?"

He
pounded out part of another song and then stopped again. "Worse than I
thought. And my guess is that there aren't many piano tuners in this part of
the world. Not that it would help, as ancient as this thing is. Your dad could
probably peddle it as an antique. Did you girls get all your stuff put
up?"

"Yes,"
Andy said. "Play some more."

"Later,
maybe. I'm going out to look at your grandpa's car. Why don't you watch some TV
until your dad gets back?"

"There's
no television," Christa informed him. "We looked when we first came
in."

"No
television? Damn. That means no baseball. Why have that big satellite dish in
the back if you're not going to have a television?"

"Maybe
it belongs to Cal and his mom," Christa said. "Do you think they'll
let us watch?"

"Yeah,
probably—if they stay. The way things sound, someone doesn't want them
to."

"Who?"
Andy asked.

"Never
mind," Nolan said. "I was just talking to myself." He got up
from the bench. "I'm going out to the garage now. You girls find a game to
play, okay? And see if you can open some of these windows, Christa."

"Can't
we come with you?" Andy said immediately. "It's scary in here, Uncle
Nolan."

He
smiled. "That's only because you're not used to it yet. A week from now
you'll know every inch of the place. It looks like a good house to play
hide-and-seek in. Why don't you play that?"

"We
don't want to," Andy said. "We want to come with you."

"I
said no. Don't piss me off, Andy. Besides, the garage is probably full of
spiders and bugs and you wouldn't like that any better."

Andy
opened her mouth, but he was already moving toward the door. Christa followed
and stood watching at the screen as he crossed the twenty yards to the detached
garage. The lanky Cal trotted across the drive to join him.

"I
hope a spider bites him," Andy said. She hopped onto the piano bench and
pecked at a few keys. "On the ears and even on his nose. Don't you,
Christa?"

"No,"
Christa said. "He can't help it if he's mean sometimes. He's not used to
us, remember?"

Andy
ignored her. "I want to play and sing like him. He can do lots of things,
can't he?"

"So
can Daddy," Christa said.

Andy
suddenly turned away from the piano. "Christa, do you ever miss
Mommy?"

Christa
glanced at her. "Sometimes." She moved to the nearest windows and
pushed aside the heavy brown drapes. She could just reach the first latch.

"I
miss her a lot," Andy said. "I wish she was here right now. I don't
like it here, Christa. Everything's old and dirty and smells funny. I want to
go back home and live with Mommy again."

"Andy…”
Christa pushed open the window and turned to see her sister's lip sticking out
again. "Don't cry. I told you a hundred times about Heaven and how Mommy
can't live with us anymore. Daddy says we have to live here now. We can't go
home."

Andy was
going to cry anyway. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks and a bubble appeared at
her nose.

"Christa,
something is here. Something scary."

"No,"
Christa said. "It's just a scary place, Andy. We'll get used to it, just
like Uncle Nolan said."

"I
don't want to," Andy sobbed. "I want to go home."

Christa
swallowed a lump in her own throat and went in the hall to fetch some toilet paper
from the bathroom. Andy would get snot all over her shirt and then try to pick
it off when it dried. Sometimes Christa wished her sister were older and could
do things for herself. Christa got tired of taking care of the little baby. She
liked it when Daddy and Uncle Nolan treated her like a big girl, but sometimes
she wished they would spoil her like they did Andy. All Andy had to do was cry
and she got attention. No one cared if Christa cried. She was being a big baby
if she cried. It wasn't fair.

While
she was carefully removing the last few squares of paper from the bathroom roll
she heard Andy give a happy shout. Daddy was back. She folded the tissue in her
hand and rushed out of the bathroom. At the end of the hall she stopped. A
thumping sound on the stairs froze her where she stood. Her heart pounded as
she waited for whatever it was to show itself. The something upstairs was
coming down.

The
thumping stopped and nothing happened. Slowly, one step at a time, Christa
forced herself to go forward. When she reached the foot of the stairs she
looked up. Nothing. There was no one there. But Georgie was at her feet.
Dropping the tissue in her hands, Christa snatched up the stuffed green turtle
and ran.

CHAPTER 6

Nolan
brushed a fly from his leg with one hand and scratched lazily at the hair
around his navel with the other. He had been shedding clothes for the last two
hours, shirt, socks, shoes, until he'd finally decided to go in and dig some
shorts and sandals out of his suitcase. Upstairs he'd opened every window he
could find to try to air the place out. The heat and the musty smell were
enough to make his nose hairs curl, and if layers of dust could be read like
rings on a tree, then it was his guess that the top floor hadn't been used
since Vic was a baby.