Greg Iles - The Devils Punchbowl

It’s obvious that being home has given her a great sense of relief, no matter how hard she pretends that living on the run was no big deal.

“The second house was scarier,” she says, looking up at me from the covers as I sit on the edge of the bed.

“Why?”

“The first one was a condo, really. Like a vacation. But then Mr. Kelly called, and Mr. Jim said we had to move. The place he took us to then wasn'’t near as nice. I think it belonged to a lady he knew. The house was okay, but I could tell that Mr. Jim and his friends were worried. At the first house I never saw their guns, but at the second one, they had them out all the time.”

“I'm sorry you had to go through that, baby. But it’s over now.”

“How was Mr. Tim’s funeral? Was it sad?”

“It was. All funerals are sad, but when the dead person is young, it’s harder.”

Confusion clouds Annie’s eyes. “Mr. Tim wasn'’t young.”

I smile. “I guess I'm not either, then. He was the same age I am.”

“Well, you’re not

old,

” she says, obviously a little embarrassed. “But you’re not young either. I guess what I mean is, Mr. Tim seemed a lot older than you.”

“That'’s because he didn't take care of himself when he was young. He had some bad luck, and he”—I hesitate—“he turned to drugs to try to deal with it.”

“You don'’t have to tell me not to do drugs. I already know.”

“I know you do. But life looks different to people as they grow older. Fate always throws something you don'’t expect in your path, and sometimes it’s really tough.”

“Like Mom getting sick.”

The rush of emotion that hits me is almost dizzying. “Yes. Like that.” I look away for a moment and gather myself. “We’re okay, though. Right?”

Annie nods with reasonable certainty.

“I want to ask you a question, squirt. A big one, okay?”

“Okay.”

“What would you think if I wasn'’t the mayor anymore?”

Her eyes widen, but I can’t tell what she’s feeling. “What do you mean? Are you going to get voted out or something?”

“No, no. But for a while now I’'ve been thinking that I haven'’t been able to accomplish the things I wanted to. The things I wanted to change for you and the kids your age. I think only time is going to fix those things, and you and I only have a certain amount of time together. Time to get you the education you deserve, to—”

“What?”

“To

live,

I guess. It’s hard to explain, really.”

Annie works her mouth like someone trying to solve a difficult problem. “I liked it better when you just wrote books. You were home a lot more.”

“I sure was.”

“But to have things back like they were before, you’d have to quit, right?”

“Yes.”

“You always tell me never to quit, no matter what.”

“I know. I’'ve been struggling with that. But this job is about serving the people of the city. And if I'm not giving my full self to that job, then I'm betraying those people.”

Annie looks at the ceiling, considering.

“It’s been done before,” I tell her. “The last mayor resigned, remember? That'’s how I was elected, during a special election. That'’s what would happen this time.”

“But Mr. Doug had cancer. Who would be mayor if you stopped?”

I give her a smile. “I know someone who’s wanted to be mayor for a long time.”

“Not Mr. Johnson!”

Laughing at her sound political instincts, I say, “No, no. Shad’s always wanted it, but I was thinking of Paul Labry.”

Annie’s eyes brighten. “Yeah! Mr. Labry would be a great mayor. He’s so nice, and he likes being out talking to people on the streets. You don'’t like that part of the job so much. That'’s not good.”

“You see a lot, don'’t you?” I rub her head affectionately. “Annie, I think what I'm really feeling is this. Natchez was the right place for me to grow up, but I don'’t think it is for you. The town was different when I was a boy. I ran for mayor because I thought I could bring back some of the good ways life used to be, and at the same

time fix the things that were wrong back then. But that job’s too big for one person. I want us to be somewhere there are more kids like you—as smart as you—and also more who are different from you. I want you to be exposed to everything that’s out there. You deserve all that.”

She knots the blanket in her right hand and speaks in a voice that is subtly changed. “When you say ‘us,’ do you just mean you and me?”

This is the unspoken heart of our conversation.

“Well…you know my decision to run for mayor was probably the main reason that Caitlin and I broke up.”

“Uh-huh.”

That'’s why I'm asking this now, dummy,

her eyes seem to say. “But I don'’t think she really wanted to leave us.”

“I don'’t either.”

“She kept her house here.”

“Yes. And I think that house was sort of a symbol. A reminder that she was still out there, hoping I would come to her. But this town is too small for Caitlin. If we were all going to be together, I think it would have to be somewhere else. And I'm not sure that’s what you want, since you’d have to leave behind the friends you'’ve made here.”

Annie’s face can be difficult to read, but in this moment her mother’s eyes shine out at me with certainty. “I don'’t care where we live, Daddy. As long as we’re together.”

“By ‘we,’ do you mean you and me?”

Annie shakes her head. “I mean the three of us. I want Caitlin to be my mom. I think that’s how it’s supposed to be.”

When the tears swell in the corners of my eyes, I turn and look toward the door.

Annie rises up and puts her arms around my neck. “It’s okay, Dad. I think even Mom would want that. She’d want us to be happy. She’d want you to have someone to take care of you.”

“And you,” I choke out.

“You’ve taken good care of me. But I think you’re right. I think it’s time to let Mr. Paul take care of the town, and us take care of each other.”

I lean down and hug her as tight as I dare. When I rise back up, she says, “I think Caitlin needs us too.”

This brings a wave of warmth into my chest. “I think you’re right. Now, you need to get some sleep.”

“I will. I'm glad to be in my own bed again.”

I smile, kiss her once more, then turn out the light and leave the room.

As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I see Kelly walking through the front door. He’s moving more slowly than usual, and his eyes look bleary. Then I see the Styrofoam cup in his hand. The smell of alcohol hits me with his first words.

“Hey, Penn, how’s everybody doing?”

“It’s all good. We’re glad to be back together. How about you? You okay?”

“I'm good.”

I reach out and squeeze his shoulder. “You look pretty out of it.”

“Well…I haven'’t done much sleeping since I got here. I don'’t need much, but I need some.”

“Well tonight you can finally get some.”

He gives an exaggerated nod. “Yep. I finally took me a drink too. I didn't want to buy one on the

Queen.

That fucking Quinn would love to get me that way. I'’ll bet he was watching me on the CCTVs the whole time.”

“Where’d you go?”

“Stopped at a little bar on the way back here, down on the corner of Canal Street. It’s called the Corner Bar, fittingly enough.” Kelly almost giggles, which makes me laugh.

“Dude, you need some serious sleep.”

“Yeah. I'm going to sit on the couch in the den for a while. Zone out and watch a movie. Will that bother Annie?”

“Nah. I do it all the time.”

“Hey,” Kelly says, as though just remembering something important. “I just saw Caitlin pull into her driveway.”

Something stirs in my chest. “Really?”

“Yeah. She didn't look too happy. I think you ought to go talk to her.”