Elizabeth and After (35 page)

“One person thinks I’m pretty important. Fred Verghoers. Remember him? He’s running for reeve now and he came by. First to fire up his policy—you wouldn’t believe how much that man thinks he’s worth—then to ask me to go on the radio to support him. Imagine! On the radio! Big-time politician,
he’s putting together some kind of advertising campaign. They’ve even done a television special on him. It’s going to be broadcast tonight. Can you believe it? Fred Verghoers on television? He told me he’s part of a whole new wave of independent politicians who are going to save the country.”

“Fred Verghoers?”

“Him.”

“Lives with Chrissy McKelvey? The girl who used to be with Carl?”

“That’s the one.”

“You like him?”

“Fred? Not much.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Well, I told him I’d think about it. Luke Richardson is running against him and I guess the Richardsons already have enough.”

Marilyn looked out the window towards the children, the way she always did when she was about to say something important and Arnie had the horrible feeling she was going to tell him she had some kind of disease. Trust Marilyn to wait until lunch was over and the children outside.

“Chrissy was in the emergency a few weeks ago. She thought she was having a heart attack. Twenty-nine years old. Then they found out the real problem was she had three broken ribs.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve been filing in the X-ray department this month. I recognized the name so I looked. Don’t tell anyone.”

“Is this is a big secret?”

“I didn’t think it was. How secret is a broken rib? But I told Doreen and Doreen said Fred must be beating up on her. She used to be in the book club and twice she had bruises
on her arms. When Doreen asked her about them, Chrissy stopped coming. Anyway, how else could you have broken ribs and not even know? Or want to say?”

That night Arnie switched on the television to watch the clip on Freddy. The Allnew people must have somehow arranged it, Arnie figured. There was a long advertisement for nursing homes that started him thinking he should make some sort of arrangement for himself, then without warning came a big picture of the sign outside town:

On TV Fred came across as forceful and surprisingly articulate. He stood in front of the lumber-yard office, arms folded across his manager’s vest, and looked straight into the camera while he spoke about “folks having to pull their weight” and the need for “responsible people in the countryside to rebuild from the ground up while we look to the future and respect the past.” There was something appealingly direct in the way he talked and that same straightforward quality came out in a clip of him playing hockey with the West Gull Hornets. A strong-skating defenceman, nothing fancy or dipsy-doodle, he was shown scoring on a lucky slapshot, then getting knocked over. As he stood up grinning for the camera and wiping his hands, he wore the same smile he had after he scored. Here was a solid team player, a man who knew how to dish it out and how to take it. Another segment showed him going to church with his “life partner” and her child. A believer but not a conformist, a businessman but not wealthy. The kind of person you feel you know because you’ve seen his face close up and it’s a face that isn’t trying to hide anything.

The next morning Arnie went into Allnew, as he’d promised, to talk to Fred. His broadcast must have been an instant success: there was a television crew from Kingston in the store, the floor was a tangle of wires and a battery of cameras and lights were being focused on the counter behind which Fred usually stood making up the orders.

“I never knew it would be like this,” Fred said. He took Arnie’s arm, led him towards his office at the side. “It must be costing them a fortune. Look at all these people, all this stuff.”

Arnie closed the office door behind him. Fred was shaven clean as marble and he wore a fancy striped shirt beneath his vest.

“Well?”

“I have to tell you something,” Arnie Kincaid said. “Shoot.”

“My daughter works at the KGH.”

“I support the KGH, Arnie, you know that. There’s people all through the township depend on that hospital.”

“She says Chrissy came in there a few weeks ago with three broken ribs.” Arnie hadn’t planned these exact words; they just popped out. Fred’s eyes stayed on Arnie’s as though they were engaged in a staring contest. His arms were folded across his chest.

“She fell on the old outside stairs to the basement. The concrete must have caught her. It took me days to talk her into getting an X-ray.”

The door opened. But it was too late to stop now. “I don’t believe you. Touch her again and I’m calling the police.”

“You’re confused, old man.” Fred turned to the open doorway. Ned Richardson was standing there. He was carrying a plastic bag, as though he had brought his lunch.

“They told me you were in here,” the boy stammered. “I was coming by to ask about that job.”

A television crewman appeared beside Ned. “We’re ready if you are. Come over here and we’ll give you some make-up. Otherwise everyone’s going to think you’re a ghost.”

Fred’s face cleared. He moved towards the door. “Just a bit of business to finish,” he said. He closed the door. The room was too small for the three of them. Fred folded his arms again and Arnie could feel his anger surging out, a tidal wave of rage. This must be how it was for Chrissy, helplessly waiting for Fred to explode. Fred stepped close to Arnie and Arnie’s heart felt like an old blood-filled sock, leaking and oozing into his chest. He reached into his pocket for one of the emergency pills the doctor had given him.

Fred Verghoers turned to Ned. The boy was pale but strangely defiant. “You came at the wrong time,” Fred said putting his left hand on Ned’s shoulder.

Fred’s move was too much for Ned, who clutched his bag to his belly, gave a little cry and looked as though he was about to evaporate from terror. “Don’t panic, boys,” Arnie said, in control again. “I guess we found out what we need to know.” He pushed past Fred and sat down in his chair. “Ned, you go out and get me a glass of water so I can swallow this pill. Fred, go powder your nose. We can continue this meeting later.”

By the time Ned got back with the water, Fred was getting his instructions in front of the cameras. Arnie sat in the empty office awhile, reading the newspaper. After a time his heart felt normal again. The old sock might be oozing but it wasn’t quite ready to split. He walked out the back way and into the sunlight. Just like that. He leaned on the car and let the heat reflect into his face. Alive! Every now and then came a slight understanding of how temporary and unlikely that was.

Ned was on the highway again, goosing the pedal to the floor, filling his head with the sound of the engine. At the Second Line Road he wheeled to the right, a skidding turn that sent out a fan of flying gravel behind him. Lu-Ann had called him the other night, half-drunk, sounded like she had a roadhouse behind her. Started crying about how much she missed him but she hung up without saying where she was, just when he was going to tell her how he had been dumped by Ellie. Left him standing there, holding the phone, all charged up. The last time he’d driven by Fred’s house he was afraid to slow down. Now he had what he had and he turned in, suddenly feeling calm.

He honked the horn, then sat in the driveway for a moment. Chrissy was at the kitchen window looking at him. He walked across the lawn. Chrissy opened the door before he could knock.

“Just driving by,” he said. “Thought I’d drop in.”

She started towards the kitchen and he followed her. She was wearing tight faded jeans, a sweatshirt, old running shoes. After that video it was weird to see her in clothes and he wondered how she would react to knowing he had examined every detail of her body. Or that one night he had taken her two brassieres and three pairs of underpants out to the manure pile behind the pig barn and dug them in there with the rest of the compost. She seemed to Ned to be small and tight, a wound-up little package. Something electric in the way she moved. Nothing like Lu-Ann; Lu-Ann was a
girl
. But still. He’d figured out what he was doing. He sat down at the kitchen table.

“So?”

“I was over at Allnew. Fred has been telling me a job might open up.”

“Okay.”

“Well, it didn’t. Not yet. Anyway he was busy with the television. I was hoping you could put in a word for me.” She had a sharp little face. Probably a sharp tongue, too. Being with her this way—in the kitchen, Chrissy in her clothes—he was starting to forget what she looked like on the tape. Of course he’d heard what Arnie Kincaid said. So now everyone in town knew what was going on. He always left her face clear so you couldn’t easily tell. But you can’t go to hospital and keep things a secret.

“Sure, I’ll tell him you came,” Chrissy said.

“I did the swimming once at Point Gull. In the mornings. You used to bring Lizzie.”

“I remember. Okay. I’ll tell him.”

Ned wondered what his father would think if he knew he was here in Chrissy’s kitchen. “You remember Carl,” Ned said.

“Yeah. What are you doing here anyway? I’m going to have to ask you to leave. If you don’t, I’ll call the police.”

“Don’t call the police,” Ned said and saw her face jump.

“Yes, I will.” And suddenly she had one of those cordless phones in her hand and was punching in numbers.

Ned moved back towards the door. “Wait. I just wanted to warn you—”

When Ned jumped out of the truck he had stood there in the drive, bobbing and twitching like some kind of nut. Then, when he’d come in, she had noticed the streaks at the corners of his eyes from crying. She had thought at first that Fred must have hit him. A little surprise attack when it wasn’t expected, that was his specialty. Except that after the first one you were always expecting it, always afraid, always ready to believe he would go the next step, which in her case would mean Lizzie.
When Marbles had disappeared she’d been sure Fred was responsible. Even after Carl called to say he’d found the body and buried it—which at least made Lizzie feel better—she thought Fred was behind the whole thing, just raising the stakes the way he liked to when he played poker. Poker was how she’d met him again. She’d just dropped in for something at Doreen and Ben’s, and while they were trading gossip over coffee she’d somehow ended up standing behind Fred. There was something so confident about the way he played his cards, so
solid
, that she fell back into being with him almost before they’d said hello.

Ned Richardson was still a boy. Skin like boiled marrow, pale pebbled eyes. He was trying to scare her but he was just scaring himself.

“It’s time for you to go,” Chrissy said. She held up the phone. Her father had given it to her after that night Fred had totally lost control, when she’d come back from being with Carl. Well, she’d brought that one on herself but at least she got something for it. She’d told her parents she’d fallen while feeding the chickens and her father had given her the phone so she could carry it around with her in case she did something incredibly stupid again, fell down the well or something. Then at least she could call. She’d wondered if he suspected. Not that it mattered. Whatever he knew he couldn’t know the whole thing. The way she’d made it part of her life.

The Allnew number was coded in but she wanted to see what Ned would do. She was surprised how quickly he’d jumped, how fast he got to the door. Then he started again about what Fred was going to do to Carl.

Carl’s number was also coded in. That was for Lizzie. When he answered, his voice rough with sleep, she said, “It’s
Chrissy here, Ned Richardson is standing in my kitchen, telling me something you should know. I’m going to give him the phone.”

“Sure.”

“I don’t want to talk to him,” Ned said.

“Now he doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“Something going on?” Carl asked. “You want me to come over?” His voice had cleared. Suddenly Chrissy had a huge lump in her throat and was on the verge of bursting into tears.

“I’ll come to you,” Chrissy said. And then, looking straight at Ned, “Ned Richardson’s in my kitchen. He’s bothering me. If I’m not there in twenty minutes I’d like you to find Ned.”