“I said I need you—”
The driver closed the window and pulled into the street.
Walk considered chasing, radioing, instead he watched them coast Sunset, hand still on his gun.
* * *
She took Robin’s hand as they opened the gate and walked over toward the two horses, grazing side by side.
“Can you eat with us one time?”
Duchess muzzled the black gently, patting his nose with the flat of her hand. “No.”
Then she muzzled the smaller gray, tried to pet her but she moved her face away. Duchess liked her.
She roped the muzzles and led them gently, Robin keeping far to the side. He ran the last steps then closed the gate behind, like she’d shown him.
When she was done she told them goodnight, then found Robin on a patch of grass by the water. He knew not to go too close, though he could swim well, she rode three buses to the lido in Oakmont each Saturday for close to a year because they taught kids for free.
When she got close he scooted away.
“You’re pissed at me.”
“Yes.” He balled a fist and kept it in his lap. He wore shorts, thin legs, knees grazed. “You shouldn’t have said that to Tyler.”
“He shouldn’t have pushed you down.”
Hollow night fell as quick as dusk began, the warmth lifting till nothing but cool remained.
“Alright.”
“It’s not alright.” He hit the grass with his fist. “I like it here. I like Grandpa and I like the animals. I like Miss Child and the new school. I don’t need …”
“What?” she said it quiet but the challenge was there. A month back he would have stayed silent.
“You. I’ve got Grandpa and he’s an adult. He can care for us. I don’t want you to fix my food.”
He cried quietly. She watched him huddled, chin to chest, knees up and arms around them. She knew about the things that shaped people, memories and events that print your soul. She needed Robin to be alright, more than anything she needed that. He saw the shrink each week, though no longer told her what was discussed. I don’t have to tell. It’s private.
“I know you’re an outlaw, but I’m not. I just want to be a kid.”
She scooted nearer, her jeans in the dirt. “You’re a prince, remember. Mom said that and she was right.”
“Just leave me alone.”
She made to ruffle his hair but he moved from her hand, stood and then ran for the house. For a moment she thought she might cry too, just let the past months and years rot her into the dirt, wash her skin from her bones and her blood to the water.
She heard the rumble of a truck, tensed for a moment, then saw it was Dolly. Dolly left the high-beams cutting a sweep of light over the water.
“Mind if I sit a while?” Dolly stopped by now and then. She wore a cream dress, heels with red soles, the kind of woman that did not own work clothes.
“I didn’t see you at church last week,” Duchess said.
“Bill’s been sick.” Her cigarette glowed as she held it away.
“Oh.”
“He’s been sick a long time. Some days are better than others.”
“Right.”
“I missed seeing that dress.”
Duchess had cut a new swath to show off her belly button.
“You can come by you know. If you ever want some female company. I don’t have siblings, no mother, grew up fending for myself.”
“And you’re alright.”
“I’m good at fronting, Duchess. I’m a fucking master. Anyway, Hal knows where to find me if you want to stop by.”
“I try not to talk to Hal all that much.”
“And why’s that?”
“Would I have met him … I mean, if my mother …”
The water slopped gently. “He made the drive.”
Duchess turned.
“To Cape Haven.” Dolly spoke quietly, as if betraying a trust. “I just, I thought you should know.”
“When?”
“Every year. Same day. June 2nd.”
“My birthday.”
A smile, small though it was. “He’d take a gift. He used to ask me to help him pick out something you’d like. And then, when Robin was born. He’d make that drive twice each year. And this is a man that never takes a day off, can’t afford to.”
Duchess glanced back at the old farmhouse. “How’d he know? Star said she never spoke to him.”
“Oh, she didn’t. Stubborn one, your mother. Sounds like someone else I know.”
“Save it.”
“He still had someone there. Called him now and then. A policeman.”
Duchess closed her eyes. Walk. “I never got them.”
“Oh, I know. He’d come back with them. Same each time. Didn’t stop him trying, though. He wouldn’t see you without your mother’s blessing.”
“She blamed him. For everything.”
Dolly laid a hand on her shoulder.
Duchess knew about her grandmother, her spirit so free Duchess still carried the Day before Radley. Star had been seventeen. She’d tried college, came home early and saw the note right off.
I love you. I’m sorry. Call your father and don’t go into the kitchen.
Star never was one to follow rules.
Dolly stood. “I brought a pie for Robin. Two-mile-high mud. I reckon he’ll be disappointed it’s not real mud.”
Duchess followed her to the truck and took the pie from her.
“Your grandfather is old.”
“I know.”
“You ever made a mistake, Duchess?”
Duchess thought of the Cape, the fire, the fights, scratching Brandon’s Mustang. “Never.”
Dolly grabbed her then, held her. She smelled of sweet perfume. Duchess tried to break it but Dolly held her tight. “Don’t lose yourself, Duchess.”
After, she watched the truck fade.
First rain fell on her shoulders.
It turned on her fast, so heavy it kicked up the mud around and splashed her legs. She stood there and tilted her head toward the sky, the opening heaven not enough to cleanse her.
She found Hal on the porch. He held a towel. She let him wrap her and walked to the seat, took the cocoa he handed, the mug steaming away her protest. The rain fell so loud it drowned the scream of that voice that told her to kick and kick.
“Robin is sleeping.
