Steve Hamilton - Ice Run

“So what, you saw Marty Grant, but you didn’t ask him why he was there?”

“I didn’t get a chance. I followed him back here.”

“Where are you now, Alex?”

“I’m in front of the Grants’ place,” I said, looking out at the building.

“You’re not going to do something stupid, are you?”

“Too late. Look, Natalie-”

“Alex, I can’t believe you.”

“Just stop,” I said. “This is coming out all wrong. After everything that’s been happening, you gotta understand… I thought you were in some kind of trouble.”

“Alex…”

“What’s happening with your mother, anyway? How did that go?”

Silence.

“Come on, Natalie. Please tell me.”

“It wasn’t good,” she said. “It really wasn’t. I mean, I thought I knew just how bad it could be, but… my God.”

“What is it? What happened?”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I’m too tired to think about it right now. ”

“You want me to come over?”

There was another long pause.

“She’s here, Alex. I brought her with me.”

“She’s there right now?”

“I couldn’t leave her in that house. I had to either try to clean the place up or just bring her here.”

“So the two of you were already gone,” I said. “If Marty Grant was going up there to find her…”

“We weren’t there, Alex.”

“So I’ll come on over. I’ll bring some food.”

“No,” she said. “Please. Give us a little time, okay? I don’t think she’s ready to see anybody yet. And I need to get some sleep so bad right now. I was up all night. I think I should just call you tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she said. “What are you going to do now?”

I was afraid to say.

“Alex, I want you to go home. If you go find Marty Grant right now, you’re going to get into big trouble.”

“I want to know why he was up there. Don’t you?”

“Alex, listen to me. I can’t imagine why he’d go up there looking for my mother, but if that’s what he was doing, then we’ll get to the bottom of it. We’ll do it the right way, okay? I’ll call him and see what he says. If I don’t like what I hear, then I’ll contact the police in Michigan.”

I let out a long breath. I couldn’t think of a good argument.

“You can’t be the one doing this, Alex. You know that. You’re the one they assaulted. If they’re up to something else, I swear, I’ll be even more mad than you are. I’ll come down on them like the hammer of God. Just promise me you’ll go home now and I’ll call you tomorrow. Okay?”

“Damn it, Natalie.”

“Promise me.”

“I’m going.”

“Promise.”

“I promise,” I said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Alex.”

“Natalie?”

“What?”

“The hammer of God. That’s a good one.”

“Good night, Alex.”

I hit the end button and sat there for a while. I watched the garage, wondering if Grant would come out after me again. He had to see my truck sitting here.

He never did. The sky got darker and the snowflakes started to drift down slowly. The bright light from the garage glowed through the windows. Finally, I put the truck in gear and drove off, back through town, past the Ojibway Hotel again, out onto the open road, toward Paradise.

She had sounded so tired. Beyond that, there was something else in her voice, some great weight of trouble and sadness. I had to wonder if she’d ever let me help her carry it.

I got my answer to that question that very night. I went home and stood in the hot shower, washing away the blood and the windshield adhesive that had somehow gotten all over my arms. Where the stitches had come loose over my eye, I did the best job I could with some butterfly bandages. I sure as hell didn’t feel like going to the emergency room to have more stitches put in.

I knew I’d be feeling a little rough the next morning, yet again. It was becoming a way of life for me. I took some painkillers to try to get ahead of it.

I was on my way out the door for a late dinner, already preparing my excuses for Jackie’s inevitable commentary on my new bruises, when the phone rang. It was Natalie.

“I thought you were going to bed,” I said.

“Alex.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I had to call you,” she said. “I couldn’t let it wait until tomorrow.”

“What is it?”

“I can’t do this anymore, Alex. I’m sorry.”

“Can’t do what? What are you talking about?”

“Us,” she said, her voice wavering just a bit. “It’s not gonna work.”

“I just talked to you a little while ago. What happened?”

“Nothing, Alex. Nothing. I should have told you then.”

“We already went through this once before, remember? I know you’ve got a lot of stuff going on in your life right now…”

“Alex, please.”

“Is it because I drove up to Batchawana Bay today?” I said. “I mean, I know that was a little crazy, but you’ve got to admit, the way it turned out-”

“No, Alex. Please. It’s not that.”

“You’re tired,” I said. “Come on, just sleep on it and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“You’re not making this any easier, Alex. Please.”

“Please what? What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t want you to do anything,” she said. “I just want you to

…”

“What, Natalie?”

“We’re done,” she said, her voice hard again. “That’s all I can say right now, okay? We’re done for real this time.”

“Just like that? I can’t even talk to you about this?”

“No,” she said. “Do not come over here. Do not call me. Do you understand?”

“You’re making it sound like I’m a stalker or something. I don’t think I deserve that.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But this is the way it has to be. After a night with my mother, believe me, somebody has to tell the truth to somebody. This was never going to work, Alex. It was never going to work. Will you just believe me, please?”

I held the phone. I looked out the window at the falling snow.

“Natalie,” I said, “this can’t be it.”

“It has to be. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t believe it. I don’t.”

“You have to.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“No,” she said. “No, you won’t. Good night, Alex.”

Then she hung up.

The next day was a bad one. The pain woke me up, one pain joined by others in a chorus singing at top volume inside me. I held a bag of ice over my eye, trying to remember when Grant had nailed me there. My ribs hurt where he had tackled me. My knee hurt. My hands felt like the arthritic claws of an invalid, the knuckles swollen and raw.

Worst of all was the feeling that came to me just after I woke up, the biggest sucker punch of all, the sudden realization that the conversation with Natalie wasn’t a dream.

I stayed inside all morning. It was the wrong way to deal with it, but so the hell what. I sure didn’t feel like going down to the Glasgow. Or seeing anyone. Or talking to anyone. I stayed inside with the ice pressed against my face and a bottle of painkillers sitting right there on my kitchen table. I found myself counting the minutes until I could take another one. A very bad sign, something I’d seen before. But I didn’t give one flying rat’s ass.

I thought she would call me. I honestly believed that. She would call me. She would tell me it was all a mistake. It had been her terrible state of mind the night before. She had no idea what she was saying.

Or else she would come over, just as she had before. One knock on the door and she would open it and step inside. Just like the last time.