The Last Exit to Normal Page 15

  I did, and saw Mr. Johan sitting in a recliner, reading the paper. Mrs. Johan went to the kitchen. He nodded. “Ben.”

  “Hi, Mr. Johan.”

  He smiled. “How’s the shoulder?”

  “Fine, thank you.”

  He turned a page of the paper. “I can’t say it’s right, but so goes it with young men.”

  He sounded just like Kim did when she told me she didn’t like the antler joke. “It’s fine, really.”

  “Kim is upstairs. Second door on the right.” He glanced at me over his reading glasses. “You can keep the door open.”

  I walked up, then knocked. Kim answered: “Hi. Come on in.”

  I entered the treasured room, leaving the door open as instructed. This was the place where she wore soft underthings around. The place she lay her goddess-like body down to slumber. I glanced at her bed, a four-poster set high. The comforter had daisies printed on it. “Nice room.”

  She kissed me, then sat cross-legged on the bed. She wore a tight white tank top and sweats. Her hair was in a ponytail. I pried my gaze away from her chest. She smirked. “Behave.”

  “I didn’t even say anything.”

  “You don’t have to. Come here.” She patted the bed next to her.

  I was on hallowed ground. I felt like sprawling on it and burying my face in the fluffiness just to smell her. I nodded. “I’m really nervous right now.”

  She slapped my knee. “Why?”

  “Because I’m in your bedroom.” I flopped back, staring at the ceiling. “And I’m about to go through The Test with your parents.”

  She flopped back next to me, her arms splayed out. Her right hand rested on my thigh. “The Test?”

  I liked the feel of her hand on my leg. “Yeah. The Test.”

  “Explain.”

  “You know, to find out what kind of guy is dating their daughter. The Test.”

  “Oh. Well, just don’t pick your nose or something.”

  “I won’t.” We stared at the ceiling. “Greg helped me fix the truck.”

  “He’s a good guy.”

  “Yeah.” I glanced over at her. I could smell her body lotion. Vanilla. “Ron came over.”

  Silence for a moment. “How’d it go?”

  “Fine.”

  “Do me a favor, huh?”

  “Name it.”

  “Just stay away from him.”

  I thought about what Greg had advised about the party. “Why?”

  She rolled into my side, resting her hand on my chest and kissing my neck. “Because I asked you to,” she breathed.

  I turned my head and she lifted her chin. I kissed her. “Anything you say, dear.” Then we kissed again, and kept on kissing. Suddenly somebody cleared his throat. I bolted upright. Mr. Johan stood at the door with a look on his face that said he hadn’t wanted to see what he’d seen any more than I’d wanted him to see it. “Dinner’s on, kids. Come on down.” Then he was gone.

  I sighed. “Great.”

  Kim giggled. “He knows I kiss, Ben.”

  “Yeah, but it’s like watching a porno with your mom. Doesn’t quite work, you know?”

  Her eyes widened. “You’ve seen a porno?”

  “No,” I lied. Of course I’d seen a porno, but I wasn’t going to say that. This was rural life.

  She lowered her voice, and a wicked smile came to her face. “I did. Just once, though. With Franny Madison during a sleepover in ninth grade.”

  “Franny the porno freak? I’ve heard of her.”

  She laughed. “No, her mom and dad had it. Like from the eighties or something. She stole it.”

  “Bad girls.” I grinned. “I like bad girls.”

  She stood. “Hey, don’t get any ideas. It was sort of gross. But funny. They had, like, this voice-over on it. It didn’t match. Franny and I laughed our butts off.”

  “Okay, fine. I saw one once, too. Same deal.”

  An uneasy silence came between us, like we were both thinking about something we shouldn’t talk about. “Come on, let’s eat,” she said.

  Dinner consisted of baked pork chops, pork gravy, homemade biscuits with honey, green beans, and wild rice. I sat like a little boy at the big people’s table. They said the blessing, just like we did at Miss Mae’s. “This is delicious, Mrs. Johan.”

  She smiled. “Thank you, Ben. The biscuits are my grandmother’s recipe.”

  Mr. Johan asked for the honey. I handed it to him. He dribbled some on one. “So, Ben, tell us about Spokane.”

  I glanced at Kim. We’d talked about the trouble I’d been in, but I somehow didn’t think that topic was appropriate. “Well, it’s pretty cool.”

  Mrs. Johan dabbed at her mouth. “What kind of hobbies were you interested in?”

  I paused, checking the list. Running from the cops, not good. Smoking pot, not good. Raves, not good. “Um, skateboarding. I skated a lot.”

  She smiled. “Like on television? I’ve seen those Z games they have.”

  “X Games. Yeah, sort of like that.”

  Mr. Johan cut in. “So, what kind of grades did you have, Ben?”

  “Pretty good. Could have been better, I guess, but I got sidetracked.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. My mom leaving and everything. I lost interest for a while.”

  He smiled, and it was sincere. “Understandable. Any plans for the future?”

  Here comes the Ben I can’t control. The Ben that comes in spasms. “Well, I figured I’d finish school, get a job, buy a place, and marry your daughter.”

  Silence. Utter and complete silence. Then Kim laughed, embarrassed. “Ben . . .”

  I shrugged. “Sorry. Can’t help it. These are great biscuits, Mrs. Johan. Pass the butter?”

  Later on, as I lay in my bed, I thought of Kim. I could still smell her. I could still feel her hand on my leg. I fell asleep smothered in her.

  CHAPTER 19

  Then all hell broke loose. I woke up the next morning to the sound of Mr. Hinks and my dad yelling at each other. It wasn’t pretty. I heard it all the way upstairs. I scrambled out of bed and into my clothes, listening to the voices. I’d never heard my dad yell before. Ever. He’d never even gotten into an argument over a parking space, let alone a yelling match with a car auctioneer, and my heart thumped in my chest. I ran out of my room and then slowed, padding down the stairs.

  They were out on the front porch. Edward was watching them from the middle of the living room, and when he saw me coming down the stairs, he shook his head and pointed, signaling me to go back up. But I didn’t.

  Then the yelling stopped, and the thud and clunk and crash of struggling bodies shook the house. I turned the corner at the base of the stairs just as Edward bolted to the screen door, and there I saw it. My dad and Mr. Hinks were fighting on the porch. A chair had been knocked over, and they grappled standing up, trying to pin each other to the railing.

  My dad had a hold of Mr. Hinks’s upper arms, and as they struggled against the railing, Edward burst out the door and flung himself between them. Mr. Hinks, with blood dribbling down a swollen lip, braced himself in front of Dad and Edward. His face contorted in rage, he pointed a finger at Dad. “Keep your son off my property, you sonofabitch!” Then he strode down the stairs and walked away.

  I watched as Edward comforted Dad, who was breathing heavily and staring at his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. It came away bloody. Dad said something softly to Edward and shook his head. Edward nodded and came inside. I stood by the stairs. “What happened?”

  Edward stopped, staring ice into me. “Well, your father just got into a fistfight because you decided to play the game. I think you should go upstairs now.” Then he was gone, heading to the kitchen to get a damp towel.

  I had no idea what he was talking about, so I stood there. Edward came back, and as he passed, he told me again to go upstairs, this time in a more conciliatory way. I went.

  Lying on my bed, I didn’t know who would come up those st
airs—Miss Mae, Edward, or Dad himself. I doubted Dad would come. He’d said three sentences to me in as many days. Edward had said I “played the game.” What game?

  An hour later, I got up and went downstairs. I wasn’t going to sit up there waiting all day. I had to know. Dad and Edward stood across from each other in the kitchen, leaning against the counters and talking. They stopped when I came in. Dad’s nose was puffy. I crossed my arms, unsure of what would come next. “What happened?”

  Dad walked across the kitchen and faced me, his eyes intense and his voice full of trouble. “Did you do it?”

  I stared. “Do what?”

  “You put ten decomposed cat carcasses on his front porch last night, then slashed his tires.” It wasn’t a question.

  I shook my head. “No. I didn’t. I didn’t do anything.”

  Silence filled the room, and Dad studied my face for a long moment, searching for something. His jaw muscles clenched. “I don’t believe you,” he said. Then he turned and walked out.

  I stood, stunned, then looked at Edward. “I didn’t do it, Edward. I swear.”

  The look on Edward’s face said that he didn’t know what to believe.

  “I didn’t do it.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Ben.”

  “Well, tell him I didn’t do it!”

  Edward sniffed, then shook his head. “No.”

  My mind reeled. “What happened, then? How’d they get into a fight?”

  “Mr. Hinks threatened you.”

  “Yeah, so? He obviously thinks I did it, and so does everybody else. Big deal.”

  “No, Ben, it is a big deal.”

  “Why?”

  “Because your dad defended you, that’s why. Even though he thinks you did it.”

  “What, let me guess. Mr. Hinks hit him, so they scuffled.”

  “No. Your dad told Mr. Hinks he’d have to go through him first if he ever tried to hurt you.”

  That stopped me. “He said that?”

  “Yes. Then Mr. Hinks tried to get past him through the door, so your father hit him.”

  That stopped me, too. My dad, the guy who followed all the rules, hit him? “It wasn’t me, Edward.”

  “Tell that to him, then.”

  Dad sat on the front porch, and as I walked outside, I didn’t even look at him, just kept going. Straight to Mr. Hinks’s front door. I knocked hard three times, and a moment later Mr. Hinks answered. I didn’t give him time to talk. “I stole your antlers and hid them in my closet. I did it because you strapped Billy for something you knew wasn’t his fault. But I haven’t done anything else to you or your house, including the cats and your car. So if you want to call the sheriff and have me arrested, or come out here and beat the shit out of me, go ahead. But if you fuck with my dad again, I’ll kill you.”

  Mr. Hinks studied my face for a moment, his own a slab of rock. “Get out of my sight.” Then he slammed the door in my face.

  Dad stood at the porch rail as I walked across the lawn. Concern flashed across his face. “What are you doing, Ben?” he asked.

  I kept going. “Making things right.”

  Twenty minutes later, I had the pile of antlers out of my closet and had just gotten them carefully stacked in the Hinkses’ driveway when the sheriff pulled up. He got out, walked up the drive, and planted his hands on his hips, studying the antlers. “Funny how things just start showing up sometimes.”

  I sorted the last of the horns. “Arrest me if you want, but let me do this first.”

  He scratched his ear, then glanced at the slashed tires. “Mind coming clean with me about this whole thing, Ben?”

  I straightened. “Sure. I took the antlers, hid them in my closet, and now I’m putting them back. I did it because you and my dad and everybody else in this stinking town doesn’t give a crap about Billy Hinks.”

  He nodded, soaking it in. “The tires?”

  I shook my head. “No. But I know who did.”

  “And I suppose you’re not going to tell me?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  He thought about this, glanced at the tires, then eyed me. “I’ve been hearing a whisper about a young man around here that might not like you too much. Now, taking into consideration what I know about this individual and how he operates, you might want to tell me about it?”

  I shrugged. Nothing was a secret around here. “I’m saying I didn’t slash Mr. Hinks’s tires or do the cats, and I don’t really care who thinks I did.”

  A moment passed. He nodded at the antlers. “Okay, then. Looks like you’ve got some work to do.”

  “You’re not going to arrest me for these?” I said, pointing to the antlers.

  He shook his head. “Looks like you’re taking care of it just fine. I’ll deal with Mr. Hinks about it.” Then he turned. On the way to his Blazer, he knelt by Mr. Hinks’s car, examining the slashes. After a moment, he straightened up and left.

  I got our ladder and climbed up it, attaching each antler to the garage wall. It took me almost two hours, and every once in a while, I caught a glimpse of Mr. Hinks looking out through the shades.

  When I’d finished, I walked inside. Dad had gone with Edward to the bank to sign papers. I grabbed my keys and drove to town. I found Dad and Edward sitting at Ms. Pierce’s desk, talking over the loans. I ignored her. Dad and Edward turned when I approached, and it all came out in a burst. “I might be the shittiest son in the world, but I’ve never lied to you about anything. Not once. That’s something you can’t say about yourself.” Then I strode out, pissed at how I felt about myself and even more pissed at the world that made me feel that way.

  On my way home, I thought about what had happened. The cats. Ron Jamison telling me he wished he’d thought about doing the antlers. Greg telling me not to go to the party. Kim telling me to stay away from Ron. Seeing him at the cemetery. It added up.

  I’d been set up.

  When I got home, I headed out back, hopping the wire fence and walking across the fields. I knew what I’d find. I knew what had happened. Ron Jamison had dug up the cats and dumped them on the porch. He’d done it knowing I’d be blamed.

  I jogged the last bit, through the stand of pines and to the edge of the ravine. Ten dug-up graves, the rock cairns scattered all about, greeted me. My stomach sunk. Damn. There was more to Ron Jamison than I knew. Then a rock hit me on the side of the head.

  I ducked, then turned, my head hurting like a sonofabitch. I expected to see Ron, smiling wickedly and winding up for another throw. He wasn’t there, though. Billy was.

  Billy threw another rock, barely missing me, and I faced him. Tears welled in his eyes. “Dirty bastard!” he cried. He threw again, and I ducked. The rock grazed my shoulder.

  “Hey! Stop, Billy!”

  Billy’s face contorted and tears streamed down his dirty cheeks as he hurled rock after rock at me. “Why’d you do it, huh? Why’d you have to go and do that?”

  “I didn’t! I swear, Billy, I didn’t. I never would.”

  “Liar!” He threw another one, and it hit me square in the side.

  I rushed him, then, and tackled him to the ground. He struggled, but I’d pinned him down. He was stronger than I thought. I looked down at his face, dirty and wet and hysterical. “Knock it off, man! I didn’t do this, Billy. I didn’t. But I know who did, and I’ll take care of it.”

  He struggled for a minute more, then went totally limp. I rolled away from him and we both lay there, staring at the sky. White heat rose around us. “I know why this means so much to you.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “If there was one thing in the whole world that could happen in your life, what would it be?”

  He stared at the sky, bringing an arm up to wipe his face. “That my mom would come get me.”

  I closed my eyes then, and wished I could feel the same as he did. I didn’t, though. My mom was better off being away. “I’ll find her for you.”

  He sat up. “Pa says she f
ell flat off the face of the earth. Just disappeared. He says people do that when they don’t love nobody.”

  “I think people do things for a lot of different reasons. That’s what I think.”

  “She wouldn’t a left if she loved me.”

  “Maybe she felt trapped. Like she couldn’t do anything else. Maybe she was afraid.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “You’ve never been afraid?”

  “Sure. Everybody gets afraid.”

  I nodded. “Well, when some people get afraid, they run away.”

  “Maybe so.”

  “Did your mom ever tell you where her favorite place was?”

  “She told me once she’d like to take me to Las Vegas. We was looking through a magazine and she showed me. All lights and glittery stuff everywhere. They got a big pirate boat there that sinks. Pirates jumping in the water and cannons goin’ off. I like pirates.”

  “Cool.”

  Billy thought about something for a moment. “I ain’t killin’ cats no more. My dad can do it if he wants.” He picked up a rock and threw it. “I’m gonna be a vegetarian.”

  “A vegetarian?”

  “Yeah. When I grow up. Then I can help them.”

  “You mean a veterinarian?”

  “Yeah. The guy that makes animals better.”

  I smiled. “I think you’d make a good one.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Thursday morning. Bird-hunting. The closest thing I had to camouflage gear were my long camo skater shorts and a wheat-colored T-shirt. It’d have to do. As I wiped the sleep out of my eyes and went downstairs, Miss Mae called from the kitchen. I walked in. “Morning.”

  She didn’t turn from the sink. “Morning.”

  “I’m going bird-hunting.”

  She nodded, pointing to the counter. “Lunch and a thermos of coffee for you.”

  I smiled. “Thanks.”

  She busied herself with buttering two slices of toast, then brought me a plate of scrambled eggs with them. “You’ve got work today.”

  I dug into my breakfast. “I’ll make it up, okay?”

  “You put dinner on the table and that’s your work.” Then she walked out of the kitchen, leaving me to eat alone. Eat birds? I didn’t think we were hunting chickens. I wolfed down the rest of my eggs and toast, then eyed the thermos of coffee. After a moment of thinking, I got up and grabbed my stuff, stopping off in the bathroom before I hit the door and waited on the porch.