Sheheard a scrape. Jimmy dragging the gate aside. She watched him pocket the keysand rub dirt off his hands as he returned to the car. He dropped into thedriver’s seat, then slipped the car into gear and drove through.
Nolights shone inside the little house. She wondered if they’d turned off theelectricity. If that was the case, she and Jimmy might end up doing what Rollowanted and going back into town—
Jimmystopped the car and got out.
“Whereare you going?”
“Toclose the gate,” he muttered.
Ashleyheard the annoyance in his voice. She wasn’t giving him the responses orattention he wanted; wasn’t itching to delve into the mystery of why her fatherdove into the ravine, especially now that they knew the boy who survived theoriginal accident had returned to do just that. Well, tough shit. She wouldgrieve her own way. If he wanted to fight about it, he was out of luck. Shehadn’t driven through three states to deal with him, either.
Thedriveway was large enough for six cars to park side-by-side. Jimmy ignored thespaces and pulled alongside the front of the house. “We got here just in time,”he said as he killed the engine. “Sun’s almost down.”
Ashleyopened her door and stood.
WhatDad had called a “palace” brought only one word to her mind. “Squat.”Thankfully, she only had to sleep here one night. After the funeral tomorrowmorning, they’d be most of the way back across three states before the sun setagain.
“She’sin the yard,” Jimmy said. He stood beside the car, his door open, staringtoward the stockade fence enclosing the Pick Apart. Ashley noted the doubleswing gate. When opened, cars could be driven in and out. A heavy chain, fedthrough holes drilled in each door, secured them with a padlock. To the side,out of the way of the gate, stood a storage shed, which she imagined housed thecash register Dad used and a chair or two for the hours he opened the yard.
“She’sin there,” Jimmy said.
“Whatare you talking about?”
“She’ssinging.” He walked toward the gate. “I can hear her.” He fished the keys outof his pocket as he reached the gate, then went to work on the chain.
“Jimmy,”she called. She heard the click of the lock opening. Felt dumbfounded as hestarted to open the gate. “JIMMY!”
Heturned toward her.
“Atleast give me the keys so I can get our stuff inside,” she said.
Helobbed them at her and turned away before they clinked on the ground two yardsshort of her feet.
Anindustrial bong rang in the stillness. “You didn’t close your door,” shetold him. Jimmy didn’t respond. She stepped forward and picked up the keys.“Jimmy?” Exasperated, she walked to the trunk and jabbed the release buttonunder the lip. It popped open with a dull sprong. She pulled out herovernight bag and turned.
Jimmystood in the open gate of the Pick Apart. The setting sun reduced him to a silhouette.
“You’rereally not going to help me with these bags?”
“She’slost, Ashley. She needs help. Can’t you hear her?”
Ashleylistened. “All I hear is your ‘door open’ chime.”
Hestepped to his right and disappeared completely.
“Unbelievable.”Ashley shouldered the strap of her bag and walked around the car to slamJimmy’s door. She watched the entrance to the yard, but Jimmy didn’t return.With the light getting dimmer, she made her way to the house. It was almost toodark to see, but she got the screen door open and managed to find the keyhole.The second key opened the door. She found four light switches on the insidewall. The nearest turned on the bulb over the door, easing her fears that theelectricity had been shut off. The light illuminated the six-foot bytwelve-foot landing outside the door, the single folding chair, and theartificial grass rug. She dragged her foot on it and it scratched likefingernails on a chalkboard. “Palace,” indeed.
Sheleaned into the house and flicked the next switch. Two exposed light bulbs cameon over a round dining room table just inside the front door. Above thefour-switch panel, she found a stretch of eight more, all in the “off”position. These must turn on lights in the junkyard. Since she had more thanenough light to get the bags into the house, she left them off. Jimmy couldfeel his way around in the dark.
Ashleyunshouldered her bag and dropped it on the table. Straight ahead, toward theback of the house, was a stove and sink. The refrigerator stood to the side.Directly to her left, Dad’s green leather couch sat in front of an oldtube-style TV set. She could make out the indentation in the back cushion wherehe’d rested his head during his off hours. A hint of his cologne lingered inthe air, but it didn’t mask the mustiness. Two pictures hung on the wall abovethe TV. The first, her parents’ wedding picture, made her miss Dad so much shecrumbled a little inside. Mom had died far too long ago for her image to affecther. The second picture was her graduation photo. Not the formal one, the onesnapped right after the event. Ashley had a big smile, a bouquet of yellowroses, and one hand on her graduation cap because the wind had been grabby.
Asmuch as she wanted to explore the rest of the house, she pocketed the keys anddecided to get Jimmy’s bag. Typical guy, he’d finish whatever he was doing andcome right inside, assuming she’d done all the menial labor. He was alreadyacting annoyed with her mood, as if dealing with her father’s suicide and beingunexpectedly saddled with the junkyard didn’t provide reason enough for herfoul attitude.
Histoothbrush would be going in the trash when she got home.
Ashleyturned for the car. Her breath stopped when she saw the face watching herthrough the screen door.
“Youneed to get away from here,” Rollo said.
Ashleystepped back and bumped the table. Her fear morphed into anger. “Why?”
Rollolooked at her, then shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“You’reprobably right. Tell me anyway.”
“Thegirl. Mary Bedigian.”
Ashleyjust blinked at him.
Rollomade a noise like a cat upchucking a hairball. “I told you, you wouldn’tbelieve me.” He turned to leave.
“Whois she? I have no idea who you’re talking about. Was my
