After breakfast, Lisa’s father and Agnes prepared Sabrina for the bone marrow extraction. The procedure took almost two hours, and when they were done, Lisa’s father told Richard it was his responsibility to figure out what to do next. Richard abandoned his newspaper with some reluctance and went to look for Josh. He found him in the living room gazing down at his cell phone.
“I need to go up the river to conduct some business,” said Richard. “Since you aren’t doing anything productive, you might as well come with me. Your parents obviously don’t have any use for you at the moment, and you won’t accomplish anything by sitting around the house all day feeling sorry for yourself.”
Josh looked up without much enthusiasm. He hadn’t spoken since Sabrina had thrown him out on the previous day, except to reassure his father that he was okay. His mother’s reaction to him was frustrating, but it wasn’t unexpected. She had always been abrupt with him, and he knew not to take it seriously, even though it hurt. He studied Richard’s face, but it was inscrutable.
“Where are we going?” he said.
“You’ll see,” said Richard. He removed his keys from his pocket, threw them at Josh, and went out to his truck without another word. Josh joined him a moment later with every intention of making the best out of a bad situation. His upbringing by Sabrina had taught him to conceal his feelings, but he had the sneaking suspicion that Richard wasn’t easily fooled by such deceptions, and it made him uncomfortable. He liked being invincible. Life was easier that way.
“Start driving,” said Richard. “I’ll tell you where to go.”
They drove away from the beach and followed the river through the town until they arrived at the entrance to a neighborhood. The houses were small, and although the yards were neat, the place looked shabby. It got progressively worse as they went along until the road eventually ended in a wide circle of gravel.
“Stop,” said Richard.
Josh looked around. On his right, he saw a forlorn little house on a neglected plot of land. The front yard was filled with weeds, and the roof was covered with pine needles. The house was in a dreadful state of decay. Green mold stained the shutters, and moss grew on the bricks. The windows were dark, and the driveway was empty.
“Now what?” said Josh.
Richard was gazing at the house. As Josh watched with growing alarm, Richard’s eyes became suspiciously misty.
“It’s still here,” he said. “I can’t believe it.”
“What is this place?” said Josh.
Richard didn’t look at him.
“I lived here a long time ago,” he said.
“What?” said Josh.
“This was my first house,” said Richard. “It’s surreal—almost like going back in time. I hate seeing it abandoned like this. There used to be a garden in the front—just a few flower beds with red geraniums. It was perfect. I made so many memories in this place. Your dad was born right there on the porch. We were planning to go to the hospital, but he didn’t wait long enough.”
He got out of the truck.
“What are you doing?” said Josh.
“I’m going inside,” said Richard. “We abandoned the house rather suddenly, you see, and I left something behind—something important. I meant to come back for it, but things were complicated, and I never got the opportunity. I hope Peterson hasn’t beaten me to it. I wouldn’t put it past him, the clever old brute.”
“How are you going to get in?” said Josh.
Richard ignored him.
“Ditch the truck in the empty lot across the street and meet me back here as quickly as you can,” he said. “I would rather not have to explain myself to the neighbors, and I might need your help tearing out some drywall.”
He slammed the door and trudged up the driveway with his hands in his pockets. Josh was too bewildered to argue. He followed Richard’s instructions and joined him on the porch a little while later, but despite his quick return, Richard’s agitation had become almost palpable.
“Did anyone see you?” he said.
“I don’t think so,” said Josh. “What difference does it make?”
“I wasn’t the most popular man in town after Peterson ruined my reputation,” said Richard, removing a key from his pocket. “You’d think I’d be allowed to come and go as I please on my own property, but you’d be wrong.”
“So this place still belongs to you?” said Josh. He couldn’t decide if Richard owned the house or if the locks simply hadn’t been changed.
“You sure ask a lot of questions,” said Richard. “Let’s get what we came for.”
He unlocked the door and went inside. Josh followed him, viewing his surroundings with a growing sense of apprehension. There was something distinctly uncanny about the house, and he felt like an intruder. A small table with three chairs occupied the far end of the kitchen. It was set for two adults and a child. Richard picked up one of the plates and polished it with his sleeve. It was made of white ceramic with a border of pink roses.
“There were so many things Peterson stole from us—things that seemed trivial until they were gone,” he said. “These were your grandmother’s favorite plates. She used to wash them by hand with a soft cloth every night after dinner. I’m sure she missed them when we left, but she never complained. She knew what was important. I wish you could have met her, Josh. She was a wonderful woman.”
He replaced the plate on the table and went into the hall. Removing a cigarette lighter from his pocket, he held it above his head like a torch. In the dim light of the tiny flame, Josh saw a vent on the wall. It was warped as if someone had tried to pry it open.
“Here it is,” said Richard in a conspiratorial manner. “It looks innocent enough, but like most things in
