Matt Lennox - The Carpenter

Speedy went back into the shed as if he’d forgotten something. Gilmore was examining the scanner. Lee lit a cigarette and came around the front of the van and leaned beside the door.

— I suppose maybe you’ve seen the inside of this bank.

— You think we’d be moving on it otherwise?

Lee couldn’t help but prod Gilmore a little further, he didn’t know exactly why. He said: Did the cleaning girl show you in?

Gilmore drew slowly back from the scanner. He said: The cleaning girl.

— The one who killed herself.

— What happened to just watching, pal? Just being our eyes and ears?

Lee lifted his shoulders: I’m going into the shed. I don’t have much love for the cold. When do we get going?

— Twelve-thirty, Lee. Rest up. You have all your questions answered?

— I just want to be sure what I’m dealing with. That’s all.

When he went back inside the shed, he saw Speedy squatting in the middle of the dirt floor, oddly simian. He was doing something with his hands. Lee came up on him.

— Fucking Christ, said Lee. What is that for?

Speedy was pushing bullets into a magazine. A Browning 9mm automatic was balanced on his boot.

— Just for security is all, said Speedy.

Speedy was talking quickly. He fumbled a bullet on the top of the magazine and it bounced on the frozen dirt below. He retrieved it and pushed it at the top of the magazine but it wouldn’t load. He looked contritely upwards at Lee.

— I think she’s full.

The Texaco had not had a customer in close to two hours. In the store the radio was playing “O Come, All Ye Faithful.” Duane was into a car magazine. Pete was looking at the newspaper. Caroline came out from the office with a mickey of rum and a carton of eggnog. She put them on the counter and she mixed three drinks in paper cups.

Outside they heard Jake Brakes, and through the snowfall they saw the lights on the back of a bobtail rig that was slowing down at the edge of the apron. But the rig didn’t pull up to the pumps. They heard its air brakes squeak and then heard it gear up again. The lights moved off towards the highway.

— Gentlemen, said Caroline. How about a Christmas cheer?

— Fuckin’ A, said Duane.

She swatted his hand. They each took a cup and raised it.

Then the door opened and a small figure came in, bundled in a hooded coat. The snow on her shoulders was already melting. She pulled the hood down and smiled.

— Hey, Pete.

Pete was slow to reply: Emily … It’s almost midnight.

— I hitched a ride with a trucker.

Pete and Duane and Caroline all looked at each other.

— How come everybody thinks I was born yesterday? said Emily. Jeez. What I would like, if you don’t mind, is something to drink. I’ll pay for it.

— No you won’t, said Caroline. Come on, have a cheers.

Caroline poured another drink and Emily came and sat with them. She put her coat onto the stool beside her. She was still wearing the cardigan he’d seen her wearing at the church. Her snow boots came up to her knees.

— Merry Christmas.

They raised their glasses. Emily reached over and took Pete’s hand. Her fingers were cold but he could feel the blood pulsing back into them.

They stayed only for the time it took to drink the eggnog and then Caroline told them to leave.

— Go on, she said. Duane and me’ll close up.

— You sure? said Pete. Duane?

— Fuck you, Pete. Merry Christmas.

Pete warmed up his car first and then he drove them back into town. Emily closed her eyes as soon as she sat down, and she took his hand when it was not working the gearshift. Only when he’d stopped in front of her house did she come around.

— Park in that driveway, said Emily. The Jacksons’ house, they’re on vacation.

— Park?

— We’re not staying in the car, Pete.

He drove to a house a few down from hers. Several inches of snow had accumulated.

— Aren’t your folks home?

— Of course they are. It’s Christmas Eve. But it’s the one night a year my dad relaxes. He had three rye and Cokes after church and he was sound asleep by nine-thirty. My mom went to bed at ten. And anyways, she’s on my side. She sees what my dad doesn’t. Come on.

They entered her house quietly. The living room was dark except for the lights on the Christmas tree. They went down into Emily’s bedroom. The reading lamp was on. She had him sit down on the corner of the bed and she went out and closed the door behind her. He looked at a portrait of her grandmother she had on her desk. When she came back into the room, she was carrying two mugs of hot chocolate. She gave him one and she kissed him and she sat down in a rocking chair.

— I saw you play piano at your church tonight, said Pete. I wanted to stay and talk to you but I left before it was over.

— I know. Grandpa and my sister both said you were there. I had to see you, Peter. I had to talk to you. I’m sorry for how it all happened. But I can’t stop thinking about you.

Pete put the mug down between his knees. It was difficult to look her in the eye. He said, quietly: Do you know about me?

— I know now. My dad knows. He told my mother. He thinks he has to shelter me from these things. True things. But like I said, my mother understands.

Shame flowed through him. He closed his eyes, said: She told you …

— Yes. She said it’s why your mom moved to North Bay to have you, why you lived there for a few years. But, look … none of that is what makes you who you are now. It’s just where you came from. You’re a good person.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes again. He said: Did you hear what happened at Nancy’s house?

— Ha, yes I did, said Emily. Nancy and I aren’t speaking much these days, but Samantha was there. She couldn’t wait to tell me about it, how you came in by yourself, walked straight into the back room, and beat the hell out of all of them.

— It didn’t exactly happen like that. I’m surprised I made it out of there in one piece.

— I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner. I hope you won’t think I’m terrible if I say Roger Amos might have finally got what he deserved.

— I guess so, said Pete. It was stupid. I wasn’t thinking straight. It was the same day … I found out about myself.

— You really never knew, did you.

— No.

She put her hot chocolate on the corner of the desk. She leaned forward and took his face in her hands. She kissed him again. Her mouth was soft and warm. She withdrew and sat back in the rocking chair.

— What went wrong with us? said Pete. Was it finding out about me?

— I don’t care about that, Pete. Look. For a long time I’ve felt like I was done with school and everybody here in town. It’s too small here. People are too small, you know? I fast-tracked this semester and I’m going to go to university in the fall. A year early. We looked at the university while we were in the city. We saw the music college and met the dean. It’s amazing there, Pete. It’s everything I want. That’s what the problem was. It reminded me I didn’t want to care about anybody. I wanted to be able to get up and leave. I thought if I got away from you it would make it easier. But I was wrong. I’ve been thinking about you the whole time.

— It’s strange that you say that. One time you asked me what my plan was. Do you remember?

— Yes. You wouldn’t tell me.

— Tonight I came to your church to do just that, to tell you. But I didn’t know how, so I left. Anyway, since I quit school I’ve been planning to go out west. As far as I can. Right out to the ocean, I guess. Because I know what it’s like to feel like it’s too small here. I’ve known that for a long time. I told them at work that I was going to leave after New Year’s. But, now, with you … I don’t know what to do. I don’t know anything.