Cesspool (12 page)

“All right, let’s do it.”

“I’ll order the pipe today.”

“I appreciate you fitting me in so close to Thanksgiving.”

“I’m just sorry you was forced into all this. These township people don’t know their ass from a hole in the ground. I see it all the time. They use the codes to put pressure on people they don’t like.”

“What about the people they do like?”

Sam chuckled. “I’ll tell you one thing. If your last name’s Strickland, you can do whatever the hell you want. Harold up the road from you got a failin’ cesspool that’s against code.” He spat on the ground. “Last year the son of a bitch was tryin’ to get me to drain it. Hell, I even dug up the manhole cover and marked it for him for free. I showed him that the sewage was about three inches from the inlet pipe. Stank to high heaven. I told him he needed to replace it with a septic. He was fired up when I told him what the cost would be. Accused me of tryin’ to rip him off. Got some shady contractor to pump it for him. No way in hell I’d pump his shit. As bad as his cesspool is, it’s bound to cause a sinkhole.”

“What’s the difference between a cesspool and a septic system?”

“Septic systems are watertight. Cesspools are pits with perforated walls. Nasty things. More likely to fail.”

“What happens when they fail?”

“The tank gets clogged and fills up quick. Then the plumbin’ backs up. Tank overflows.”

“I would hate to be downslope of that.”

Sam’s face was taut, his jaw set tight. “You don’t
ever
wanna be downslope of Strickland shit.”

James thanked Sam for the advice and walked to the front porch, avoiding the guys working on the windows and door frame. Two black boxes sat on one of the benches. He opened them and selected matching numbers on the dials. Jessica’s Honda Civic crept up the driveway. She stopped short of the chaos. James hiked down to meet them. Brittany stepped out of the passenger seat in black pants and a jacket over her polo.

“Hey, Mr. Fisher,” Jessica said from the driver’s seat of the compact car. “How’s the project coming?”

“You were right about Sam. He really knows his stuff,” James said.

“I knew he’d take care of you. Mr. Browning’s my favorite customer.”

James pulled a twenty-dollar bill from the front pocket of his canvas pants. “Please take this. You’re a lifesaver. I couldn’t go anywhere today.”

She shook her head. “It’s really not necessary.”

James placed the bill in her hand. “For gas. It’s out of your way.”

Jessica backed out of the driveway; Brittany waved.

“How was the lunch crowd?” James asked.

She grinned. “I made ninety bucks in like four hours.”

“I can see why those old biddies hang on to that lunch shift. Who will replace the lady who died?”

“It won’t be me or Jessica. This was just a one-time thing because of the funeral.” She looked around at the chaos of contractors. “I was hopin’ to take a nap, but I doubt that’s gonna happen.”

“Yeah, sorry. The security guys will be done today. I wanted to get that done as soon as possible. After today, it’ll just be the septic and plumbing guys. But they’ll be here for two weeks. Come on. I’ll give you a tour.”

He led Brittany to the end of the driveway.

“Sam’s guys ran a trencher across the driveway here.” James pointed to the gravel. “All the way to that tree, where those raspberries are. Hidden in there is a box with batteries that power the magnetic sensor under the driveway. So if a car pulls into the driveway in the middle of the night, we’ll know it.”

“Detection,” Brittany mumbled to herself.

He led Brittany near the front porch, keeping their distance from the workers. A stocky man held up black steel burglar bars over the window as another man installed the lag bolts.

“The windows are being coated with a special thick plastic that, even if you break the glass, it’ll still hold together. I saw videos on the stuff. It takes a long time to break through it. Then we have the bars on the windows too. That guy there”—James pointed to the pudgy man measuring and then attaching metal brackets to the door frame—“he’s beefing up the door frame. Most home invasions come right through the front door. It’s actually really easy to kick in a door, but it isn’t the door that breaks. It’s the hinges or the frame. Those metal brackets solve that problem.”

“Barricade.” She nodded, her blue eyes wide.

“I also have a couple motion sensors to install. I’m trying to figure out a way to mount them so they’re hard to see, but they’ll detect anyone near the front or back door. My only concern is the sensor tripping every time an animal walks by in the middle of the night. I’m thinking that, if I can set it up so it only trips for tall things, it might work okay.”

“I didn’t realize you were gonna do so much. All this seems really expensive. I can give you my money to help out.” She bit her lower lip. “I mean, this is my fault you’re doin’ all this. If you never helped me—”

“This is Harold’s fault, not yours. Besides this security stuff’s not that expensive. The septic and the plumbing put a dent in my savings. That has nothing to do with you either. I should have bought a place with indoor plumbing anyway. It was stupid of me to think I could live up here in the woods like a mountainman.”

* * *

James paced. Brittany sat at the kitchen table, working on his laptop. Flurries fell on the frozen ground. Wood burned in the fireplace insert. A tiny artificial Christmas tree sat on top of the storage cubbies. A small bathroom and shower now occupied the corner. She looked up from the laptop. James checked the time on his phone.

“You look stressed,” she said.

“I am.” He scowled. “I’m tired of waiting. I want to get this over with.”

“I just try to concentrate on something else.”

He nodded and shoved his phone in the front pocket of his jeans.

She said, “Maybe they’re not coming because of the snow.”

“It’s flurries. They just want me to sweat.”

A police SUV turned onto the driveway. The black box in the kitchen that looked like an answering machine chimed and said, “Alert zone one. Alert zone one.”

James walked over to the machine and turned it off. He saw Officer Dale Strickland and Chief Wade Strickland marching toward the porch in puffy police jackets. James opened the door before they had a chance to knock. He hated how the police banged on the door when a polite knock would suffice. James greeted them and invited them in. They stepped inside without wiping their boots on the Welcome mat. The chief had an expansive glistening forehead, accentuated by his receding hairline. Above his lip was the obligatory copstache. His son was a better-looking version of the old man with an oversize beaklike nose. Both men stole looks at Brittany. She had tunnel vision, avoiding the stress by submerging herself in GED prep.

“You always have those bars?” Officer Strickland asked.

“I just put them in,” James replied.

“Is there a fire code against burglar bars?” the officer asked his father.

The chief nodded. “Yep, you have to be able to get out in the event of a fire.”

“That’s why there’s a quick release on them,” James said. “They’re up to code. I can assure you of that.”

“Let’s see that latrine then,” the chief said.

James showed the officers the small bathroom that featured a toilet, a sink, and a shower stall.

“It’s tight in there,” the chief said.

“We don’t have a lot of space,” James said.

“That’s not such a bad thing,” the chief replied, his eyes darting to Brittany and back to James.

“Do you want to see the drain field?”

“Not necessary. I trust that Sam did what he was supposed to do.”

“I have the permit that says he did, if you want a copy.”

The chief brushed his mustache with his thumb and index finger. “Won’t be necessary.”

“Is that it?” James asked.

“I’ll be checking on you come spring,” Officer Strickland said. “Make sure you’re keepin’ those weeds under control.”

James bit the inside of his cheek. “I’ve already complied. This has cost me a lot of money. I would like you guys to leave me alone now.”

The chief stepped closer to James. Wade spoke casual, relaxed, at a low volume. “I decide if we’re gonna leave you alone. You got me?”

James was silent.

The officers marched to the front door. Officer Dale Strickland flashed a crooked grin on his way out.

The chief stopped at the threshold, the door open, a cold draft blowing in. He said, “Be good now.”

* * *

James sat at his desk, reading on his laptop, the classroom empty.

Brittany walked through the door, her eyes red and puffy. James diverted his attention from the computer.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded as she sat in the student desk across from him. “We talked about you today.”

James raised his eyebrows. “You don’t have to tell me. What you talk about with Diane is between you and her.”

“I know, but she said I should.” She tucked her hair behind her ears.

“Should what?”

“Talk to you about things.”

“Okay.” He shut his laptop.

“She asked me today if you and I have a physical relationship.” She pursed her plump lips.

“What did you tell her?” He leaned forward, his elbows on the desk.

“I told her what you told me about it not bein’ a good idea. She said you were right. That it’s not a good idea. She also said that we can’t live together forever. You might wanna have a girlfriend or get married, and, if I’m here, it might be … a problem. And I want those things too.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

“That’s what she says. How do you feel about this? How do you feel about that?”

“How
do
you feel about it?”

She took a deep breath. “I don’t like it, but I know it’s true. I feel like I’m holdin’ you back, but I don’t wanna feel like I’m holdin’ you back. Am I? Do you wanna have a girlfriend and get married again?”

He was blank-faced. “Someday, maybe, but I’m not ready for that now. It’s only been a year since … the accident.” He shook his head. “Sometimes I think about how Lori and I were, the first few years of marriage. I guess everyone says the beginning is good, but it was
really
good. Then it wasn’t. I would give anything for a second chance to make it right.”

She sat, her face cute and buttonlike, her blue eyes popping. She said, “My life would be … I don’t even wanna think about where I would be without you. Maybe you don’t get second chances. Maybe you can only give them.”

* * *

“How long is winter break?” she asked.

James stood at the sink, washing the dishes that Brittany bused.

“It’s a month,” James said, “but I’m teaching a two-week intensive history class, so I’ll only get the next two weeks off. I have to be back at work on the fourth.”

“The diner only gives us Christmas and New Year’s.”

“We’ll have to do something extra nice for Christmas and your birthday. I think we should devote half the day to Christmas and the other half to your birthday. Is there something special that you want to do?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s up to you.”

He smirked. “It’s not up to me. It’s
your
birthday. Think about it.”

“Okay.” She began drying and putting away the stack of clean dishes on the counter.

“What about New Year’s? Do you want to go out to dinner or make something nice here?”

She winced. “I’m goin’ out with Jessica and Denise on New Year’s.”

“Of course,” James said with a forced smile. “I forget that you’re almost nineteen.”

“They have a place rented in Philly for the night. There’s some huge party down by the water at this ice skatin’ rink. They already bought the tickets. I was going to mention it earlier, but I …”

“It’s okay. I’m glad that you’re making friends.” James dried his hands on a towel. “You
should
be spending time with kids your age. It’s pretty expensive on New Year’s. Do you need any money?”

She shook her head. “I already paid them for the ticket, and they’re not chargin’ me for the room, but I have to sleep on the cot—which I really don’t mind anyway. I’d sleep on a cot every night if it saved me a hundred bucks.”

“I’m going to put on my sweats and brush my teeth.” He pulled his shirttail out of his khakis.

“Me too,” she replied.

“Do you want the bathroom first?”

“No, you go ahead.”

James brushed his teeth. He spat and rinsed. He put both hands on the sink and stared in the mirror. He gazed at his face from different angles, his nose always too large and his chin always too small. With his head tilted down, he had the makings of a double chin. He exhaled.
Now I’m skinny fat
.

He unbuttoned his shirt and replaced it with a sweatshirt. He heard “Alert zone two. Alert zone two.”
I need to fix that thing
. He sat on the toilet seat cover and removed his dress shoes. Brittany screamed. James burst from the bathroom in stocking feet. She stood in sweatpants, with her arms wrapped around her bare chest.

“He was in the front window,” she said, her eyes wide.

James unlocked the dead bolt and sprinted outside. In the moonlight, he saw a dark form galloping toward the trail. He sprinted after it, his socks immediately soaked from the half inch of snow on the ground. Despite his awkward gait, he gained ground. James tackled the person dressed in black coveralls and a knit hat, just before the trail. There was an audible
yelp
on impact. James turned over the person. Harold’s eyes were wide. He tried to cover his face with his arms. James pummeled the diminutive man, some punches blocked by his forearms but many connected with his face. His nose and lips ran red.

“James,” Brittany said, grabbing his shoulder.

James stopped, condensation spilling from his mouth. He pushed off Harold as he stood, saying, “Get up.”