Tim O’Brien - Northern Lights

Jud nodded, still surveyed the hot street. ‘Guess somebody should’ve told me.’

‘Sorry, Jud. We were just thinking he’d want to ease back in. You know? No big show or anything.’

‘Somebody should’ve told me, anyhow. I should’ve been there.’

Perry nodded. ‘Sorry.’

Jud squinted up the street. There was no traffic. The two lonely dogs were sleeping on the steps of Damascus Lutheran. ‘Anyhow,’ said Jud, ‘I should’ve been there. Harvey being a hero and all.’ He laughed into a cough.

‘Oh, I wouldn’t say he’s exactly a hero, Jud. I wouldn’t say that. He got his eye hurt and that’s about the end of it really.’

‘Shit,’ the old mayor said, ‘you think I don’t know that? Bound to happen sooner or later. Like your old man, you know, same damn thing. Anyhow, he’s gonna want a parade now.’

‘What?’

‘A parade , for Chrissake! I guess he’ll want a parade now, horns and sirens and floats.’

‘Oh.’

Jud squinted and coughed and shook his head. He brought up a wad of phlegm from his throat, leaned forward and casually spat into the street. ‘Well, ahhhh, I guess you can tell your pa I’ll get that parade arranged. I guess I can do that much.’

‘He’s dead, Jud,’ Perry said carefully.

Jud squinted. ‘Thought he just got himself wounded in the eye?’

‘No, my old man. He’s dead.’

Jud laughed. ‘Shit! You think I didn’t know that?’

Perry grinned. He shifted the groceries again.

‘Anyhow,’ said Jud, ‘you get the word to Harvey, okay?’

Jud coughed and spat a big bubble of mucus into the street. ‘Shit! Wolff says it’s the first thing of Harvey asked about … a parade. Don’t worry, I’ll get it for him, ram it right through, no problem at all.’

‘There’s no need for it, Jud.’

‘Just tell him, son.’ The old mayor sighed. ‘You better get on home then. Groceries there are leakin’ all over you.’ He pushed the straw hat forward. ‘You say hey to your pa, now.’

Perry grinned. ‘Okay, Jud.’

Jud cackled. ‘Your pa’s dead!’

‘Yeah.’

I never said he was crazy, you know.’

‘I know, Jud.’

‘What about your ma?’

‘She’s dead, too, Jud.’

‘Jesus.’ Old Jud spat into the street. ‘Dropping like flies, aren’t they? Well, what about Harvey?’

‘Harvey’s fine.’

‘Mother of Mercy.’

‘Right.’

‘Don’t let your old man shove you around, you hear me?’

‘Okay, Jud. Thanks.’

‘Not Harvey either.’

‘Okay.’

‘So long now, Reverend.’

Perry grinned and saluted and started off, then stopped. ‘Jud?’

The old man was staring after him.

‘Jud, you haven’t seen Addie?’

Jud Harmor pulled off his hat to think. His skull was shiny.

‘Addie. The girl who works in the library. You haven’t seen her today?’

‘Addie,’ Jud said, looking about. ‘Newcomer.’

‘A year or so. She works in the library. Just a kid. You call her Geronimo sometimes.’

Jud grinned. ‘Shit, you mean ol’ Geronimo. Some ass, right? Sure, I know her all right. You’re talkin’ about ol’ Geronimo.’

‘You haven’t seen her?’

‘Wish so,’ Jud said. ‘Wish I had. Some ass, don’t you think? No disrespect, Reverend. What you want ol’ Geronimo for?’

‘Nothing. Just looking for her. Thanks, Jud.’

‘Aren’t thinkin’ of converting her? That’d be some awful wasted hunk of redskin ass, I’ll say that.’

‘Don’t worry, Jud.’

‘No disrespect, Reverend.’

‘So long, Jud.’

‘Say hey to your pa, now.’

Perry smiled and waved.

‘He’s dead! ’ Jud hollered.

‘You’re some politician, Jud.’

‘And you ain’t exactly a reverend, neither.’ The old man waved. ‘Take care, son. Tell that brother Harvey I’ll get his blasted parade for him, hear?’

‘Okay.’

‘You tell him now. Get his medals patched on.’

‘I will.’

‘And listen. Hey! I wanted you to tell him this. Tell him that losing one eye never hurt a blind man. You tell him that for me. Perk him up.’

‘Okay, Jud.’

‘Tell him the town thinks he’s a hero. Tell him we’re all proud.’ Jud was grinning, waving his hat. ‘Tell him anything you want. A pack of lies, anyway. Okay? Hell, tell him he’s lucky to be alive, that’s what. Tell him I thought he was dead or something, that’ll clear his head awhile. That Harvey. Some rascal, isn’t he? You got to be careful now.’

‘Okay, Jud.’

‘Take her easy, son.’

‘Okay.’

‘Geronimo!’ he wailed, and coughed, and spat in the street.

Perry decided to try the lake.

He swung off Route 18 and parked along the path leading to the beach. He walked fast, beginning to worry about the time.

At a small footbridge he slowed for breath, then kept on at an easier pace as the path gradually widened and the forest thinned out, finally ending in a sandy clearing that looked down on the lake.

He stopped there. He was but of shape and sweating. Addie’s Olds was parked along the gravel lane that ran from the lake to the junk yard. He felt a little better. He found some shade and sat down to wait.

The lake was hard grey-blue, so calm it looked iced over, and there were no clouds, and it was mid-afternoon of summer with nothing to do. He put his hand down and squeezed the roll of fat under his ribs. Harvey’d never had that problem. Why not? Something to do with dominant and recessive genetics, most likely; or breeding, the old man’s feeling at the time, or their separate moods, black bile and yellow, it was hard to say. The Bull, said the old man about Harvey, and that was that, and it was too bad. And like Jud said, maybe the old man wasn’t crazy after all. Thinking about old Jud, Perry started grinning. Hard to tell if the old mayor was playing a great fool’s game, darting in and out of time as if it didn’t matter or exist, always confusing the living with the dead and Perry with Harvey and both of them with the old man. Every two years either Herb Wolff or Bishop Markham opposed Jud in the town elections, and every two years Jud got re-elected. Everything was always the same, Jud and the trees and the lake.

He sat in the shade and waited. He pitched stones down the embankment and watched them roll to the beach. He thought awhile about doing some exercises. Sweat off the fat rolls, turn lean, watch Grace’s happy face, stir up some energy, get healthy, sit-up and push-up himself into bullhood and happiness. It was awfully hot.

The first movement was gentle. It was just a splash of light in the lake. He watched the splashes lap towards him like waves, moving in delicate arcs closer, and he stood up to watch.

She swam close to shore then turned and swam on her back.

Her arms reached from the water and dipped. He was too far away to hear the sound of her swimming.

After a time she waded ashore. She bent forward, her hands braced on her knees, her hair flopping forward in a wet black bunch.

She was very slender. She walked on her heels, and she was wet and her skin was walnut-coloured and shining.

Perry moved down the embankment for a better look. He was smiling. He found a log and sat down again, his hands folded nervously.

She wore a white swimsuit.

With her back to him, she walked on up the beach, stopping now and then to bend down, picking things up, throwing pebbles out into the lake, skipping rocks. She was slender and she walked and played like an athlete, bent forward and swinging her arms and walking on her heels. She walked a quarter mile up the beach. For a moment she disappeared in a stand of pines, then she was back and coming towards him.