Thirteenth Child (6 page)

Sunday was usually a busy day. The regulars weren’t likely to come in, but there were always a bunch of tourists. Today was no exception. By noon, Kate was exhausted. The room was full, and the air thick with smoke, when she heard the roar of motorcycles. They peeled off the road and skidded to a stop outside the snack bar. The door opened; four bikers strode in. One of the small tables crowded into the space between the counter and the door was free, and they slumped down into the chairs around it. Kate saw the man she’d seen at the motorcycle dealership. With luck, he wouldn’t recognize her.

Reluctantly, she went over to the table to get their order.

“What happened to J.D.?” The speaker was the youngest of the group. He was the only one wearing a jacket. A large black and white spider was painted crudely on the back of it, legs extended to crawl over his shoulders and around his waist. He was sweating profusely.

Probably thinks he’s too cool to take it off, Kate thought. For some reason, she took an immediate dislike to him. There was a mean look to his eyes.

“Dropped his bike the other day.” That was the man she’d seen outside the store. He looked up at her. “Hey—I know you, don’t I? You were around the place the other day. Want to buy a bike?” The words were teasing, but in a friendly way.

Kate clutched her order pad. “No,” she answered. “I was just looking. What’ll you guys have?”

“BEER!” the other three chorused.

“We don’t have….”

“Lay off, you guys. Cokes all round will be fine. Name’s Ed. What’s yours?”

“Kate. Anything else?” She looked out the window but couldn’t see Mike. Where was he, anyway?

“Sure, I’ll have a burger.”

“Fries.”

“Chips. You got a package of barbecue chips?”

Kate scribbled furiously.

“Burger for me too, doll-baby,” the younger one
drawled. His eyes traveled from Kate’s face down to her feet and back up again, then he turned to the older man as if bored by what he’d seen.

Kate clenched her teeth until it hurt.

“That was a pretty good ride, Bud. Go for another boot tomorrow?”

“Naw. Gotta work.”

“You working? What you doing that for?”

A chorus of laughter. Kate took advantage of it to escape back to the bar, acutely conscious that the young biker’s eyes were back on her. The others might be normal—or “almost”—but there was definitely something weird about him.

Angie appeared just as the bikers were leaving. She made herself a cup of coffee and headed back up to her room before Kate had a chance to say anything to her. Steve didn’t appear at all.

Around evening, the snack bar emptied. Kate opened the door to try to get rid of the combined, almost overwhelming miasma of grease and smoke. The air conditioner was completely useless as far as that was concerned. Mike ambled in and sat on a stool by the counter. Kate sighed and sank down onto the stool behind, fanning herself half-heartedly with a menu. Tired as she was, she couldn’t get out of her mind the picture that had been tormenting her all day. The picture of her mother on the floor, her father standing over her almost crazy with anger. She knew her father’s temper. She
and Angie both knew it. Feared it, and with good reason.

Absent-mindedly, she poured two cups of coffee and slid one over to Mike. She should offer to pay him. Before she could say anything, however, the door opened and her father staggered in. He was stubble-cheeked and reeked of beer. Kate’s face flamed with embarrassment.

“Hi, Mr. Halston—” Mike began, but Steve just pushed on past into the kitchen.

“Angie!” they heard him bellow. “Where the hell are you?”

“Your dad really got wasted last night, by the looks of it, eh?” Mike shook his head, grinning.

Kate froze. “You really can’t keep your mouth shut about things that aren’t any of your business, can you?” she demanded.

Mike stared at her, surprised. “Doesn’t matter a squirrel’s hind leg to me what your dad does,” he said. “Anyways, who doesn’t get drunk on a Saturday night? Most people I know do.”

“Angie! Get the hell down here! I mean now!”

Mike looked more closely at Kate.

“Your mom all right?” he asked. “I mean—he didn’t knock her around or anything, did he?”

“Get out of here.” The words were ice-cold. So brittle they seemed to cut the air. “Maybe thieves who hold up snack bars and drugstores hang out with drunks who beat up on their wives, but it’s not like that around here. Get out and don’t come back.”

Mike leaped to his feet. His eyes turned as cold as Kate’s voice. Suddenly, he looked dangerous. Kate felt a stab of fear. He jammed his hand into his pocket. Kate stopped breathing.

“For the coffee,” he said, throwing a handful of change onto the counter. “I wouldn’t want to owe you.” He turned on his heel and slammed out.

Kate had a dream that night. She dreamed that she woke up and her room was pitch dark—she couldn’t even see the outline of the window. In her dream, she sat up, every part of her prickling and crawling with some unnameable dread. She reached out for her bedside lamp. There was emptiness where it should have been. The darkness all around her was absolute. Slowly, she lowered her feet over the side of the bed. She didn’t want to leave the safety of it, but she had to. She had to find the door—had to get out. Arms outstretched, she began to feel along the wall to where she knew it should be. Nothing. Confused, dread rapidly escalating to panic, she
reached a corner and felt along that wall. No door. No bookcase, either. Or desk. Or chair. It wasn’t until she had traversed all four walls, and then started over again, that her mind accepted the horrifying reality. There wasn’t a door anymore. There wasn’t a window. Even the bed had now disappeared. There was nothing. She was closed in, trapped in the empty blackness with no way out. She screamed….

And woke up. Covered in sweat, weak and shaking.

She slept no more that night. When the alarm went off, she slapped it quiet and turned away. She didn’t want to get up. If her mother could do it, why couldn’t she? She didn’t want to face either of her parents. She didn’t want to face anything.

Exam review week, she suddenly remembered. She couldn’t miss school. Exams were coming up—she’d done well all year, she couldn’t let up now. Reluctantly, feeling as weighed down with fatigue as an old woman, she clambered out of bed.

To her surprise, when she went down to the kitchen her father was already there, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He had shaved, his hair was neatly combed back, and he was wearing clean jeans and T-shirt. Warily, not meeting his eyes, Kate took down the cereal from the cupboard and went to the refrigerator for milk. She poured a glass of orange juice and sat down at the table. Steve brought his coffee over and set
it down on the table opposite her. His hands were shaking so badly he spilled almost half of it into the saucer. He sat down heavily.

“I got to apologize, Kate,” he said in a low voice, mopping at the coffee with a paper towel. “I was out of line Saturday night. Way out of line.” He paused, still looking down at his coffee. Kate didn’t answer.

“It’s not going to happen again, Kate—I promise.”

Finally, Kate raised her eyes. He looked up and met them.

“I promise, Kate,” he repeated. “No more booze. It’s the booze that does it. I’m going off it. Things are going to be different—you’ll see. I know it can’t ever be the way it used to be—the money’s all gone—but it’s going to be different. Better. It’s going to be better.” His eyes were pleading.

He looks pathetic, Kate thought. Suddenly she felt as if she were the parent and he the child. Then she closed herself off. She’d heard those promises before. He never kept them. Never could keep off the booze for longer than a day—couple of days at the most. It was too painful, hoping
this
was the time he meant it—she’d believe it when she saw it, not before.

Angie came in. She too had made an effort to fix herself up. Crimson lipstick looked garish against the pallor of her face, but she had tied her hair back with a ribbon and was wearing a light, flowered housecoat.

“Morning, Kate,” Angie said. Her voice was shrill and unnaturally bright. “Mind you eat a good breakfast now, and don’t forget your lunch today. Got to keep up your strength for your exams. If you want to get into a good university, your high school record is pretty important.”

Kate looked at her incredulously. Even now Angie could just pretend nothing had happened. And since when had she ever cared about Kate getting into a good university, let alone any university at all? Any time Kate had mentioned it, all Angie had done was complain about how much it would cost. Her father, of course, wouldn’t even talk about it. He sure wasn’t like Barney’s dad. Get a scholarship, though, they wouldn’t be able to stop her.

Just the thought of it. In her mind she could see herself walking down a shady, tree-lined path, backpack filled with books, other students hurrying around her. A totally new life….

If she ever got away from here, she’d never come back.

When Kate got off the bus that afternoon and headed toward the service station she was still wary. What would she find? Her father, however, was out tending the pumps, talking and joking with Bob Dowles and Norris Lamont. Angie was behind the counter, looking as if she didn’t have a worry in the world. It was Burrell’s delivery day again, and she was even flirting a bit with
Rob. The relief was enormous. Perhaps things would turn around after all. It was possible. Her parents had used to be so happy together….

Yeah. And pigs can fly. Take advantage of the cease-fire, she told herself cynically. It probably won’t last long.

They were out of worms. That made her face something she’d been avoiding all day: Mike. No matter how much she tried to put the blame on him, she had to admit she’d had no right to explode at him that way. She owed him for a day’s work, and she owed him an apology. She squirmed at the thought of it, but there was no way out.

“Mom,” she said. “I’ve got to go into town. Can you stay on for a while? Ill take over soon as I get back, okay?”

“Sure, honey,” Angie answered.

“Hi, Kate,” Rob put in. “You’re looking good today.”

The guy was getting old. He must be blind as well. If she looked half as bad as she felt, something a cat wouldn’t bother to drag in would look better. She dug up a smile, anyway.

“Thanks, Rob. Had your glasses checked lately?”

She grabbed her bike out of the garage and set off for Jed’s place. As she pedaled along the shoulder of the highway, she began to rehearse what she was going to say to Mike. Nothing came out right. The closer she got, the more panicky she got. This was not going to be easy. A car swept past her, sending small pebbles flying
and causing her to lose control for a moment. It had nearly sideswiped her. What if it had …?

Kate lay in the hospital, swathed in bandages from head to toe. Only her face peered out, unscathed, but white and drawn with pain.

“You can only stay a minute,” the quiet voice of a nurse said in the doorway. “She’s not out of danger yet.”

Mike tiptoed in. “Kate,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry about the accident. So sorry you were hurt.”

“I was coming …” Kate gasped back weakly, “coming to apologize to you….”

“Apologize! Kate, there’s nothing to apologize for! Just live, Kate. LIVE!”

Unfortunately Jed’s place loomed up ahead of her and Kate was still in one piece. Even more unfortunately, Mike was standing right there, watching her pedal in. She pulled up beside him.

“Mike,” she began.

He stared back at her silently. His eyes were still cold, but controlled now. He’d lost the dangerous look that had frightened her so. But how far away was it?

“Look,” she forced out. “About what I said … I … I’m sorry….”

“Why? Need more worms?”

Kate flushed and anger surged up again. She swallowed hard and fought it down.

“Well, we do, but that’s not it. I mean … I shouldn’t have said what I did. About thieves and that….” Her voice died out.

“Why not? It’s what you think. I’m not your sort of people. Far as you’re concerned I’m just a thief, and not even a good one at that.”

“No. Mike—”

“I’ll bring you some worms tomorrow, don’t worry.”

“But, Mike—I’m really sorry….”

“Glad to hear it. Great. Okay.” He turned away. “Look, I’ve got work to do,” he threw back over his shoulder. “See you tomorrow.” He strode off down the path to the lake.

Kate watched him go. He hadn’t even given her time to offer him the day’s pay.

Fine. If that’s the way he wants it, that’s okay by me, she thought. I couldn’t care less. He comes from scummy people, he behaves like scum. Who cares?

But pedaling back to the garage seemed to take forever and every bit of energy she had. The sun beat down mercilessly; there wasn’t even a hint of a breeze. Halfway there her shirt was already soaked with sweat and clinging to her back. A couple of wolf-whistles as she passed by the gang around the motorcycle dealership didn’t help. When she finally let herself in through the back door to the kitchen, her head was aching again and she was in a foul mood.

Her father was sitting at the table with a bottle of beer in his hand. He started up guiltily when she came in.

“Not what you think, Kate,” he said hurriedly.
“I meant what I said this morning. It’s just … it’s so hot.” He gave her a shamefaced grin and an apologetic shrug. “And to tell the truth, Kate, I’ve still got sort of a hangover. No matter what your mother says, a hair of the dog doesn’t hurt. Just one little beer. That doesn’t mean anything….”

Kate slammed out of the kitchen into the snack bar. She threw herself down on the stool behind the counter and buried her face in her arms.

“You were gone a long time. I’ve missed all of ‘General Hospital’ and most of ‘Oprah.’ “

Rob had left and Angie was tidying up one of the tables. Her good mood seemed to have dissolved. Her face was pinched and the whine was back in her voice. The cartons of groceries were still stacked by the door.

“Finish unpacking for me, will you?” She glanced nervously at the kitchen door. The ribbon she’d pulled her hair back with had come half-untied and was hanging limply down her back, letting her hair escape in untidy strands. So much for things being different from now on.