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Authors: Paul Robertson

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Road to Nowhere (44 page)

BOOK: Road to Nowhere
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They descended.

The road was never straight, and its distance was never in sight. But it continued and they followed it. When there were turns, Zach knew his way.

Above, the sun descended. The gold became dull and red, and the trees dark silhouettes, and the ridgelines just lines in the mist.

Ahead, a thick, rounded spire was above the trees, and the road curved to it. This crossroads was called Tyrol Church.

They reached it quickly and Zach stopped beside another car.

He opened her door for her and held her hand as she stood. Then they walked together.

Cornelia stood to meet them. All around stood stones.

“Thank you. Eliza.”

“Cornelia.”

“Thank you for coming.”

“Of course!”

They sat on the stone bench, side by side. Zach withdrew, to his car, to wait.

“I don’t know why—I needed someone.”

“I do know.”

“How did you feel?” Cornelia asked.

“How you are feeling now.”

“Does it ever end?”

“It changes.”

Cornelia led her the few steps to the stone that had Wade’s name. “Today is our anniversary. Wade said we’d go on a trip.” Then silence and growing dark. “This is as far as we got.” Her finger touching the stone. “The end of the road. Why? Where does the road go? Here? Is this all? Does it really go nowhere?”

“Life doesn’t end,” Eliza said. She felt the cold of the questions and the mist all around her.

“But it has.”

“It just becomes different.”

“Then it isn’t life. Life is talking to him and being with him.”

Eliza only knew what she had been told, by her family, by the Warrior. But now it seemed hollow.

It had all become so cold.

She knew these churches and of the people who had built them, who had fought and buried the ancient knowledge. Now she stood in their shadow and fought herself with the knowledge she had.

“I don’t know,” Eliza said.

October 10, Tuesday

“Sue Ann, does it ever happen to you that you hear something, or see something, or both, and maybe you think there’s something strange, or odd, at least, about it, or maybe you don’t even, but it’s just poking around back there in your brain, and you don’t even know it is, and then all of a sudden, just for no reason, you figure it out or have some new idea about it, or just see it different?”

The two of them were cleaning up in the kitchen together after one of Sue Ann’s wonderful dinners.

“No,” she said.

“Well, I do,” Randy said, “and in fact I just have.”

“What was it?”

“It’s about Everett Colony and Wade Harris.” Neither of those was the happiest person to think about, and the combination even less so, but it was strange enough to mention. “And this is from something Ed Fiddler said. Everett Colony took fifty thousand dollars, cash, out of the bank on a Friday back in the spring, went to see Wade Harris that Sunday night, and came back to the bank Monday morning and put the money back in. And Cornelia said Wade didn’t have a chance to tell her what they talked about, but it left him real thoughtful. And that Monday night was when he had his accident.”

“What does that mean, Randy?”

“I wish I knew. But does seem strange, though, doesn’t it?”

October 13, Friday

“Here they come!”

Louise came running up to the front of the salon to look out over Becky’s shoulder, but she couldn’t see anything over the people all up and down the sidewalk.

Boom, boom, boom.

“I hear them,” she said, and pushed out into the crowd.

Oh, they needed something to cheer everyone up. She needed something!

The last week had been a disaster! Byron home at noon every day. He was at such aimless loose ends and grouchy by evening, she knew that wasn’t going to work at all. So then she’d just gone to the salon for the mornings and been home with him afternoons, and that was hardly better. And Matt had gone home to Angie’s, so it was just the two of them. Too bad he wasn’t here to watch.

There they came!

Out from behind the post office, at the front, was Gordon Hite in his sheriff’s car with the light flashing.

Whoop! whoop!
to break a person’s ears. Why did he have to do that?

Then three pickups loaded with hay bales and the homecoming court sitting and standing in them, waving and smiling. They were
so cute
!

After them were the cars and trucks pulling floats, mostly trailers with plywood cutouts of a Cherokee doing something mean to a lion, with students throwing candy from behind signs for Wardsville Drugstore or the Imperial Diner or whoever was sponsoring them.

And all the time the drums and trombones getting louder, and finally there was the band in their red and gold uniforms just like an army! Forty of them playing their hearts out as loud as they could.

Louise’s heart was fluttering itself!

She waved her American flag as hard as she could.

Then there were the Boy Scout and Girl Scout troops, and the Future Farmers of America, and the 4-H club, and Grace Gallaudet in a car with the top down representing the founding family of Wardsville. And last was the fire truck with the whole football team sitting along the top and the cheerleading squad in front, and everyone on the sidewalk cheered their loudest.

What could be more exciting?

“I think that was the best ever,” she said to Becky as the last of the parade turned the corner and headed up the hill to the high school.

October was going as hard as it could, every tree putting its whole heart into color, and not a cloud in the sky all day. And now it was dark, Randy was sitting on the forty-yard line, four rows up, and there were four big galaxies of stars on telephone poles at the four corners of the field, brighter than it had been at noon, and the sky blacker than midnight.

“There he is,” Randy said to Sue Ann, pointing at the players galloping out from the locker rooms, and Kyle right at the head of them all.

“Cherokees, Cherokees, roar!” The crowd was on its feet doing just what the cheerleaders were telling them, and almost every person had on the school colors. Sue Ann had on her blue and yellow sweater he’d bought her when they were still just high school sweethearts.

They called out the names of the starters, and Kelly ran out from the other cheerleaders to give her brother a kiss on the cheek when they called his name, and the crowd thought that was so cute they gave the two of them another big roar, and Gordon Hite topped off the cheering with a whoop from his sheriff’s cruiser siren. Then the band was striking up the national anthem and all the hats came off, and everyone was singing, and then there was the biggest roar of all.

“Hoarde hasn’t lost yet this year,” said a voice behind him.

Even Luke Goddard wasn’t going to make a dent in this evening. “They haven’t played Jefferson County yet,” Randy said to him, and turned back to watch.

Hoarde County won the coin toss, and the Cherokee defense got down to business. They did a fine job of it, too, a good four and out, and then Kyle came pounding out, as confident and assured as an army general, with his troops behind him.

They didn’t huddle on that first play. But right as they lined up, Kyle must have seen something he didn’t like with the way the other team was set, or something he did like.

“He’s calling an audible!” Randy almost couldn’t believe it. Here it was the very first time they touched the ball, and the boy was dropping the play the coach had sent him in with and was calling his own. Jimmy Balt took off in motion to the right side.

“Hike!” The whole field heard him, and Jimmy was off like a shot, with half the Hoarde County defense after him, and the other half scrambling in over Kyle’s line. It had been a good try, but he’d signaled too strong he was passing, and Jimmy was never going to get clear, and the pocket was crumbling.

Then Kyle swung left and let off with a rocket, and Kenny Fiddler was as wide open as a yawn on the forty-five, and the ball settled into his arms like a baby, and he was gone.

“There he goes, there he goes!” Randy was shouting in Sue Ann’s ear, and Kenny was a bullet right down the sideline, and Hoarde County never had a chance in the world of catching him, and there wasn’t a man within ten yards of him when he crossed the line.

The crowd went as wild as it should have after that, and Gordon was even whooping his siren again, which seemed a little excessive. The boys had Kyle up on their shoulders and the officials were waiting for the siren to stop.

But the siren kept up and the police car was moving, pulling away from the sidelines and out to the parking lot, and there were more sirens, getting louder as the crowd got quieter, and there were lights coming right up Hemlock. People were climbing up to the top of the stands to see what was happening on the street behind them, and Luke was pushing his way through the middle of them.

“The furniture factory . . . ”

The words just came rippling down the stands, part spoken and part felt, and then part smelled, an acid, smoky smell that caught people like a rough branch rubbing their cheek on a dark walk.

“What is it?” Byron hadn’t said hardly a thing, just listened, and Louise couldn’t stand it.

“I’ll be right there,” he said finally, to the telephone. “I’m going out,” he said to her.

“What is it?”

“Fire at the furniture factory.”

“Well, I’m coming, too!”

“Then let’s be going,” he said, turning off the television, but he still gave her a minute to pull some fried chicken and sandwich supplies from the kitchen.

Luke was back down from the top of the bleachers, and he stopped just a minute next to Randy. “Fire, and a big one, and getting bigger even while I was watching.”

Then he was gone and Randy looked over to Sue Ann. “I should probably go over to see, and maybe it’ll help Roland for me to be there, as he’ll be worrying about insurance as soon as he thinks of it.”

“I’ll stay here and watch the game,” she said.

“That’s exactly what you should do, and I’ll be back by half time.”

Byron had to park a block away from Hemlock, in Mountain View, there were so many cars everywhere, and fire trucks and police cars closer to the factory.

There were lights all around, too, especially at the high school.

“It’s the football game,” Louise said.

Byron didn’t waste a second getting out and trotting off. Louise took her time following after him, a cooler in each hand.

When she got up to the factory, it didn’t make sense at first. The red glow was in back. She could see flames spurting up and sparks flying, and spinning red and blue lights from the police cars and fire trucks. There was a big crowd, too, and lots of them in blue and yellow from the high school, and over all a terrible smell of smoke.

But the factory lights were on with people in and out the front door, and it didn’t seem hurt at all.

Then Byron came running out the front door and was on his way around, and Louise caught up with him.

“Where’s the fire?”

“The warehouse. The whole thing’s going up.”

She ran with him, her coolers bobbing on either side, to where the firemen had the crowd stopped.

“Oh my goodness!” The flames looked a mile high, throwing chunks and embers way up into the night, and painting the back of the building red. All of that, and the heat on her face and the smoke in her eyes, and Louise was mesmerized.

All three of the county’s fire trucks were parked in as close as they could and the fire fighters were squirting water as hard as the hoses could, but the fire had the whole warehouse building covered.

“I think we’ll have to let it go.” The fire chief just shook his head. “We’re going to get someone hurt soon if we stay in too close.”

Randy was standing on Roland Coates’ other side, and the poor man was jumping one foot to the other, mopping his forehead, going from one fit into a dozen.

“Just keep it from the factory! We can lose the warehouse—it’s ruined anyway—just keep it back from the factory.”

One corner of the burning walls fell in and launched a geyser of sparks like the Fourth of July, and they rained down on the factory roof.

“Watch those! Get that quick!” Roland went scampering off and had the closest fireman by the shoulder, trying to point his hose up to the roof, before Gordon Hite could pull him back.

“Keep the roof wet,” the fire chief shouted, and the hose did turn and dowse the place the sparks had landed, but Roland was still too close and got a dowsing himself. He came back soaked and with his fire put out.

“They’ll keep the fire away from the factory,” Randy said to him. “It’ll be safe.”

“That’s the whole month of production! Half a million dollars of furniture! And the lumber stock, too! All of it’s gone!”

“Now, Mr. Coates, the insurance adjustor will be here first thing in the morning, and everything will be taken care of, and it’s all covered.”

“I know it’s covered!” Roland was as bedraggled and dejected as a puppy having a bath. “It better be covered! I told you I wanted everything I could get for fire!”

“It’ll be all right,” Randy said.

“No matter who set the fire!”

‘Who’ was sort of what Randy was thinking himself. Especially with Mr. Coates so determined to have as much fire insurance as he could get.

It was a lot to think about.

“Grady!”

“Oh, hi, Louise.” He sure looked exhausted. It would all be especially hard on him, being on the volunteer squad and working at the factory, too.

“How’d it start?”

“I don’t know. But it sure did. The whole two months’ work up in smoke.”

There was a big crash and everybody jumped, and the warehouse roof fell in and the fire exploded out.

That whole inventory! So Mr. Coates wouldn’t have to find anybody to buy it after all.

“Now, tell me if I can believe my eyes,” Randy said, settling down next to Sue Ann. “That scoreboard says twenty-four to three?”

“And Kyle’s doing so well,” she said.

The last quarter was just starting, and even if the fire wouldn’t be going out until it was good and ready, it was still less exciting than the Cherokees putting the finishing touches on their biggest game of the year.

BOOK: Road to Nowhere
3.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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