Regan Wolfrom - Coyote

I placed them inside and covered them with leftover blankets from the Tremblays’. Justin would decide if he wanted to bury them with the smoke-logged sheets they’d slept with.

Then I went back to the porch and waited with Kayla for Justin to wake up.

Justin made a choice when he awoke. Between two lives, one of grief and one of anger, he picked what came natural to him. He let the rage fill his head until it frightened everyone but me away.

“I will kill every last one of them,” he said as he slammed his cold shovel against the frozen ground. “Those fucking indians are going to pay.”

I was still setting up the portable stove. I’d decided against lighting a fire to warm the shovels.

“You’ll help me, right?” he asked me.

“I’m just getting the stove ready. We’ll heat the shovels―”

“You’re going to help me fuck them up.”

“We’ll figure it out…”

He stopped trying to break the soil. “No, that’s not what I’m asking, Baptiste. Those pieces of shit set my goddamn house on fire. We need to deal with that.”

I didn’t want a fight. I couldn’t expect him to be reasonable.

But I couldn’t make a promise he’d force me to keep.

“Let’s put your family to rest,” I said.

“To rest? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“We need to get them buried, Justin. We need to get it done, right?”

He just nodded.

Then he stood and seethed as I finished setting up the stove.

Today is Wednesday, January 23rd.

Justin didn’t want any kind of funeral for them. Yesterday, once the bodies were buried, we went to where the Marchands had lived. I set up two rooms, and then we had a drink.

And then Justin had five or six more.

He was asleep before ten o’clock.

Kayla dropped by a little while later.

“He’s asleep?” she asked me as she gave me a hug.

“Pretty much.”

“How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Not sure what the hell we’re going to do with him.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was hard enough to deal with when he had a family. Now he’s alone and angry and looking to hurt people.”

“He wants to hurt us?”

“He thinks New Post set the fire. To get back at him.”

“That’s… there’s no way.”

“There’s not much chance of it. But enough of a chance to drive him crazy.”

“You don’t think that’s actually possible, do you? That they’d want to murder Justin’s family?”

“No… you’re right. It’s not possible. But try telling him that.”

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Neither do I.”

“We just need to wait… wait and see…”

“This isn’t going to end well. I don’t think he’ll let this go. It would have been better for him to die, too.”

“Yeah,” Kayla said. “Better for all of us.”

I nodded. “I’m not coming home tonight.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here.”

“We have plenty of booze.”

“Yeah… but I think you need some of me. I just want to hold you, Baptiste. That’s all I want to do.”

I led her to the bedroom and we laid together on the bed.

And then I fell asleep.

Justin wasn’t there when we woke up.

Kayla went to check the grove where we’d buried his family.

I checked for his car.

He’d left McCartney Lake.

And I didn’t have a way of finding him.

If he’d gone to New Post, I wouldn’t get there in time to stop him.

If he’d gone off to kill himself… I wouldn’t want to stop him.

Kayla had gone to take care of the goats and chickens; I’d stayed behind at the Tremblays’ in case Justin came back.

He came back just before sunset, right as I was starting to get hungry for dinner.

“You pick up a pizza?” I asked as he came in.

“Two walleyes,” he said. “I guess I can share.”

“You went ice fishing?”

“There are huts at the old ranger camp on Wade Lake. Just dragged one out and got it done.”

“Okay…”

“I’m feeling okay, Baptiste. Really.”

“That’s good, man.”

“Yeah… thanks. I think I’ll be alright here. You can head home.”

“What about the fish?”

He smiled. “I don’t actually want to share.”

Something about his smile didn’t seem real to me.

But I might just be passing how I feel onto him.

I can’t tell him how to get better.

Today is Thursday, January 24th.

I’d given Justin back his phone when Kayla and I had gotten back from our trip through Aiguebelle.

He came by after we’d finished breakfast to tell me he’d received a call.

It wasn’t from Alain, or Lisa or Graham.

He showed me a message from Fisher Livingston.

Funny story. What was Sara’s nickname in high school?

“I have no idea what it means,” Justin said.

“He’s fucking with me.”

“He calls me because he wants to fuck with you? By asking some obscure question about Sara?”

“Vachon tampon, ” I said.

“Tampon? What?”

“It can mean a lot of things in French. But yeah… tampon.”

“Fuck… French kids are messed up.”

“Send it back to him,” I said.

“Why?”

“Please, Justin. Just send it. I want to know what the hell he’s doing.”

Justin typed out the response.

“Signal’s weak,” he said.

“Signal’s always weak.”

Justin sat down on the couch in the living room.

I took the recliner.

We sat silently.

I wanted to ask: “Hey, you still plotting revenge?”

But I didn’t. I knew at least some part of him was.

Justin’s phone chirped. He took a look.

“He wrote back already,” he said.

He handed the phone to me.

Still at McCartney Lake?

“Small talk?” Justin asked.

“I don’t know… do you think he actually has Sara with him? I’m not sure I can believe that.”

“Why wouldn’t he just come out and say it?”

“Maybe he doesn’t trust you.”

“Trust me ? You’re the one who threatens him as a hobby.”

“I do that to everybody. Just tell him yes.”

“You tell him. I’m sick of being the go-between. I think you two will make a lovely couple.”

“I’m just going to come out and ask him.”

I typed out a reply:

At McCartney. Do you have Sara?

“You guys have anything to eat?” Justin asked.

“Oh yeah… I guess you don’t have much food at the Tremblays.”

“They left a jar of wheat germ and a bag of raisins.”

“I wouldn’t have left raisins behind. Just check the kitchen. Take whatever, as long as you keep track so I can update our numbers.”

Justin nodded and took to the kitchen.

Another chirp.

LOL.

“What the fuck?” I said.

“What?”

“He typed ‘LOL’.”

“He is fucking with you.”

I heard footsteps on the porch.

Kayla stepped inside.