The Edge of Juniper (12 page)

It was my turn to suck in a breath.

He pulled his arm from around me, and before I could complain, he peeled my left hand off the bar and pulled it toward him.  He flipped it over and wrote my name on my palm with his finger.  “Do you feel that?”

Oh, how I felt it.  I swallowed. “Malcolm...”  It was all I could get out.

“I feel it too, Fay.  We’re going to get to know each other, but we’re going to have to do it at the same time that we feel all this.  There’s just no ignoring these horses.”  He entwined his hand in mine, as if to prove his point, and right on cue my belly bottomed out.

The ride was slowing, and in the back of my mind was a worry that we might get stuck at the top.  We didn’t.  Somehow we were the first ones to be let off.  When our bar was raised, Malcolm didn’t let go of my hand.  We stood by the exit gate, and laughed at Paul, who was going to be last off.  He leaned over the edge of his car and made faces at us.  Malcolm laughed, but my body tensed in horror.  “He’s an idiot,” I said.

Malcolm smiled.  “Yep.  He’s my best idiot.”

We circled the carnival at least ten times.  Every now and then we’d stop and talk to people Paul or Malcolm knew, but mostly we just walked, or sat on benches and watched the crowd mill around.  Eventually Paul left us, to hang out with Daisy and Derek.  The sky began to darken, and I still had an hour before tonight’s curfew.  Street lamps were on, and the neon lights of the carnival rides streaked the darkness.  Malcolm and I were on a bench watching people scream on the Scrambler and sharing a bag of blue cotton candy, when I heard my uncle’s voice, and he was shouting.

I sat upright, panic greasing my arteries and making the blood rush quickly through.  Malcolm looked at me with a question in his eyes.  “That yelling, do you hear that?”

He tilted his head to listen over the crowd.  “Yes, I do.”

“That’s my Uncle Todd.”

Malcolm stood and looked around, and I wondered what he planned to do.  He grabbed my wrist and hauled me up to stand next to him.  “Come on.”

I looked away from him, hesitating.  “I don’t actually want to go over there.  They managed their lives before I came here, I don’t see why I should butt in now.”

Malcolm looked at me like I was crazy, and I knew he likely had some of his father in him, and wouldn’t be able to do nothing in such a situation.  But if Uncle Todd had been at the bar like Donna said, and if he was now here yelling in a crowd, my being there would not help anything.  Malcolm’s being there would definitely not help anything.

“There’s nothing we can do,” I said.

He seemed to realize it was out of his control, and he nodded and dropped my arm.  “Okay.  Do you want to get out of here?”

“Yes.  Please.  Let’s go before I become a part of what’s happening.”

“I parked over there,” Malcolm said, and gestured in the direction of the yelling.  How could Todd still be yelling?  “Let’s walk behind these booths.”

We dashed behind the dart game and the pick-a-duck booth.  But there was a large opening before the bottle toss, and what we saw in it as we rushed past was a man trying to calm my uncle down.

“That’s my father,” Malcolm said.  The sick feeling in my stomach intensified, because I knew there was no walking away now.

Malcolm didn’t even look at me before walking to his dad.  He seemed to act on instinct.  I saw Marigold standing a few steps behind her husband, enfolded in a group of women.  Todd held a heavy ball from the bottle toss, and he punctuated his diatribe by throwing the ball at the ground.  Then he picked it up and did it again.  There were several divots in the packed earth at his feet.

“You live a high life, you son-of-a-bitch!” he barked, then
whump,
the ball hit the ground.  He scrambled after it, and fell down in the process, but managed to pick it back up and stand.  “You’re no better than us!” 
Whump
.  I saw two men behind Uncle Todd, waiting to step in if need be.  Nobody dared get near him, lest he throw the ball at their heads.

“Mr. Young, let’s get you home and we can discuss this in the morning,” Mr. Dearing said, his palms out toward my uncle.

I clutched the bag of cotton candy and Malcolm’s goat, and looked at Marigold, who was looking back at me, with her hand over her mouth, and concern in her eyes.  Shame burned through me.

Uncle Todd charged then, first hurling the ball at Mr. Dearing and then following in its wake, fists awkwardly raised.  Malcolm bolted after him, and Mr. Dearing ducked to dodge a blow.  Malcolm caught one arm, and Mr. Dearing held the other, and to be honest, it didn’t look like too much of a challenge for them to hold him back.  Though my uncle wasn’t lucid enough to free his arms and strike again, he managed to twist his body and bring all three of them to the ground.  A few more men joined the fray, but they weren’t necessary.

Uncle Todd slumped into a pile, still trying to bark out some words, but mostly mumbling.  Malcolm and his dad didn’t let go of his fists.  I heard him say, “You don’t know shit about me.”

A police officer strode over in a cloud of authority.  He stooped down and handcuffed my uncle, and Mr. Dearing stood and brushed the dust off his knees.  What I felt in that moment went far beyond shame and mortification, and I was numb with it.  I stared vacantly at the scene for a moment more, when Uncle Todd noticed me and slurred, “That’s right Fay, get an eyeful.” I glanced at Malcolm, who was saying something to his dad.  Tears pricked my eyes and my stomach churned.  Needing desperately to be anywhere else, I turned and walked away.

My feet took me to Celia’s house, but I stood just inside the tree line, afraid to be noticed.  There was a light on in the kitchen, which meant Aunt Donna was up.  Would the police take Todd to the jail, or would they bring him back here?  If they brought him here, would they leave me alone if I pretended I was asleep?  I didn’t want to see Donna before she knew what happened.  If I told her about it, she’d kill the messenger.  If I didn’t tell her, she’d kill me later for keeping it from her.

There was a rustling in the woods behind me, and the loud snap of a stick caused me to jump.  “It’s only me.”

Malcolm.  A sob tried to rise, but I swallowed it down. “I am humiliated right now.  Not to mention I have no idea what I should do because Aunt Donna is sitting in there without a clue what just happened.  It might be best for you not to get involved.”

“I’m already involved.”  I felt his fingertips brush lightly down my hair, from the nape of my neck to where it ended at the small of my back.

“Maybe, but not to the point where you can’t back out now.”

“You’re mistaken.  There’s no way I could back out now.”

I turned to face him, grateful for his words, and also grateful for his willingness to stay with me in spite of my mess.  “You’re maybe not as smart as I thought you were,” I said, smiling.

He laughed, and tucked his hands in his pockets.  I knew he wanted to touch me in some way, to comfort me, but not knowing if I would welcome that, he tied his hands up.  I thought of Uncle Todd, his hands in cuffs, and turned my gaze to the ground.  “What did they do with him?”

“I don’t know.  I told Dad I was coming after you.  When I left, they had him sitting on a bench and were just talking to him.”  He took one hand out of his pocket and scrubbed it over the back of his head.  “Fay?  Why do you keep taking off?  I thought you were done running.”

The truth was that I hadn’t even been thinking when I left.  Everything in me was screaming that I should get out of there, so I had.  I didn’t want him to see how upset I was, so I crossed my arms over my chest and said, “Curfew.”

“You still have a half hour.  And I’m not going to stop coming after you.”

“I’m not doing it so you’ll follow me.”

“I know that.  Want to sit?”  He gestured to the chairs in the back yard.

It wasn’t right for me to let him sit in Uncle Todd’s chairs.  “Malcolm, you should probably leave.  Not that I don’t want you to stay, but I’m sure your father wouldn’t want you here.  And if they let Uncle Todd come home, you definitely shouldn’t be here.”

As an answer, he walked out into the yard and sat in a chair by the cold fire pit.  “Malcolm!  If Donna looks out that kitchen window, she’ll see you.”

“Come sit with me.”

“No, please come back over here.”  He didn’t move.

Through the window, I saw Aunt Donna walk across the kitchen.  My heart pounded.  But then the light flicked off, and she disappeared from sight.  I crept out of the woods and dropped into the chair beside Malcolm.  “I wonder if she went to bed, or if she left for the police station.”

“I haven’t heard the front door shut, so I vote for bed.”

“Do you have superhuman hearing?”

“I have the ears of an eagle.”

Somehow, in spite of how crazy I felt inside, I laughed.  “I know eagles have good eyesight, I don’t know about their hearing.”

He chuckled, and then we sat quietly for a while.  “Fay, look at me.”

“I can’t.”  I was still far too ashamed to look anyone in the eye.

“I understand that you aren’t proud of the way your uncle acted.  Nobody holds it against you.  Hell, I don’t even hold it against your uncle.”

My head whipped up and I stared at him.  He was silver from the moonlight, his face mostly shadows, but what I could see of him showed me that he meant it.  “How can that be true?  He tried to hit your dad in public.  He called him a son-of-a-bitch.”

“Alcoholism is a disease.”

“It might be a disease, but it isn’t an excuse.”

“You’re right, it isn’t.  But my mom says, and I believe, that we are all doing the best we can.”

“If that’s my uncle’s best, then there’s a real problem here.”

“There is a real problem.”  He looked down and examined the backs of his hands.  “I don’t like that you’re staying here.”

“This again?  Don’t give that another thought.  It’s only a few weeks.  Plus, I wanted to come here and spend time with my cousins.” I thought about Abe and Celia, who both had years left here, who had lived here their whole lives.  I wondered if they even realized that most homes weren’t like this.  Or more likely this was new; perhaps their house hadn’t always been like this.  If it was, they hid it well when we visited.  Or maybe, I thought with dread, more homes were like this than I ever realized.  “And anyway, I’m hardly ever here.  I’m always at work, with my cousins, or hanging out with some lumberjack.”

He laughed slightly, and let out a deep breath.  “Fay?  Any time you need to be away from here, you have a place wherever I am.”

His words stirred a fluttering low in my belly.  I wanted that, to be wherever he was.  “Are you sure?  Some people find me annoying in large doses.”

“I find you many things.  Annoying is not one of them.”

“Just give it a little time.”

He smiled at me in the dark.

The kitchen light flicked on again, and I saw Celia walk through it to the fridge.  She must have come in the front door.  “I better go,” I said.  “If Celia’s home, it’s probably a minute before curfew.”

Malcolm stood and I let him take my hand and pull me to my feet.  “I’ve had a few days to think about proper timing.  So I’m not going to kiss you tonight.”

I laughed softly.  “Good, because that would be truly bad timing.”

“I brought it up because I want you to know I really
want
to.”

“You do?”  He still held my hand.  He rubbed his thumb over the back of it, and I felt unsteady on my feet.

“I’m crazy about the idea.  If our night had ended differently, I would have.”

I smiled at him, amazed that he had somehow placed happy thoughts in my head after such a terrible experience.  I laid my other hand on his chest to feel his racing heart.  “Good night, Malcolm.”  I handed him his goat.  He let go of my hand and I walked across the yard.  When I got inside, Celia was sitting at the table.  I walked past her and went to the window.  I couldn’t see him, draped in darkness as the backyard was, but I knew he could see me.

“So, is it true?” Celia asked.  She looked smaller than her normal self, sitting there alone—a teeny tiny Celia with a continent of a table jutting out in front of her.

“You heard about your dad?”

“This kind of story travels fast.”

“It was awful, Celia.”  I sat in the chair next to her.

“I figured.”  She sighed, and I fiddled with the salt shaker.  It was a clear glass rooster my mom had given Aunt Donna for her birthday years ago, to make her laugh.  I loved that they actually used it.

“You must think I’m an idiot, telling you to stay away from Malcolm, as if that would solve everything.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot.”

“Don’t you?  It’s clear you think I don’t understand things.  Well, I’m not completely deluded either, Fay.  I had this idea that if we could keep Dad away from anything that upset him, he wouldn’t get upset.  Then things would be fine.  I mean, that’s logical, right?”  She was getting smaller with every word she spoke, collapsing in on herself.