We should pile them up and have us a bonfire, yelled the one old man with Cap written on his baseball hat.
Great idea, his friend said, joining in. Ill buy the hot dogs and we can have us a weenie roast.
Wont that be a fire hazard? Yancy asked as he used a stool to climb high enough to cut the last of the dead branches off a tree.
Cap-hat puffed up, making him about half an inch taller. I was the captain of the volunteer fire department here for twenty years. I think if I say its all right, nobody will argue.
To Yancys shock they all agreed, and now the rush was on to collect firewood.
In general, Yancy hated people. He thought of some of them as evil, like Freddie and Cowboy whod threatened to murder him for no reason, and others he feared were simply fools. The rest were stupid, destined to be played by the evil walking the earth. That pretty much summed up the population hed been living with for five years, and those hed grown up with were no better.
Only, these folks were different. They treated him as if he were a kid who needed praise and direction. Each had stories to tell, and each, in their way, appeared to have lived rich, full lives. None suspected the crimes hed committed or regrets he had in life. To them he was a hero, not an ex-con.
Yancy swore he felt like Snow White stumbling into the elderly dwarves camp. All of them were at least a head shorter than him, and most offered him a cup of coffee or something to eat. One little round woman dressed in pink from her shoes to her hair even brought him out a slice of pie. Mrs. Butterfield was her name, and she claimed her husband always ate pie for breakfast.
She also giggled and told Yancy that he reminded her of her first husband when he was young. Black hair and strange eyes, she whispered. Just like you, young man.
Yancy, he said. My names Yancy Grey. He didnt want her thinking he was the ghost of husband number one returning.
All agreed that was a strong, good name, except Mrs. Butterfield whod gone inside to look for a picture of her first husband.
An hour passed, and the café still wasnt open, but Yancy felt stuffed. By now the trees were trimmed and the eight geezers pulled their chairs around a crumbling swimming pool full of tumbleweeds and dead leaves. The pool deck was one of the few places that was out of the wind and offered sunshine.
Yancy used the tree-trimming chair to join them and was welcomed with smiles. Thank goodness Mrs. Butterfield had forgotten what shed gone to look for and returned with another slice of pie for him.
The short senior citizen whod fallen through the chair earlier introduced himself as he offered Yancy a wrinkled hand. Leo is my name and farming was my game until I settled here. I used to grow pumpkins so big we could have hollowed them out and used them for carriages.
A few rusty red hairs waved at the top of Leos head as he laughed. Let me fill you in on the protocol here. Every Sunday we get up early and sit out here, if the weather permits, until ten-thirty when two vans drive up. Until then we eat Mrs. Ollies deliciously sinful banana bread and Mrs. Butterfields pie if she remembers its Sunday. Of course, we do this so the Catholics will have something to confess and the Baptists will have something to sing about. Those feeling the calling load the vans for church and the rest of us finish off the bread before our kin drop by to take us to their low-fat, no sugar, high-fiber Sunday dinners.
Which van you climbing into, Mr. Leo? Yancy smiled as he took another piece of the best banana bread hed ever eaten.
Neither, Leo snapped. I was married twice. Once to a Baptist. Once to a Catholic. After spending twenty years in each church I gave up religion for superstition. Mr. Leo leaned forward. Like, Ive been noticing something about you, Yancy. You may be a good-looking fellow, but you got one gray-colored eye and one blue. Like Mrs. Butterfield said, thats strange. Some folks might think you to be the son of a witch, or maybe a witch yourself. Ive heard tell a man with two colored eyes can see death coming for any one he stares at. Gypsy blood in you, Im guessing, with that black hair. They say every Gypsy is born with a gift, and yours just might be deaths sight. Am I right, Yancy?
Thats me, Yancy lied. He had no idea where his people came from, but seeing death hanging around these folks wouldnt be too hard. He was surprised the Grim Reaper didnt make regular minivan stops by this place.
Miss Ollie passed by to offer him the last slice of bread. Dont believe a word Leo says, she whispered. He aint never farmed in his life. He taught drama at the high school for forty years, and if he had two wives he must have kept them in a box, because no one in town ever saw them. She laughed. We dont know if his brain is addled, or if hes just trying to make life more interesting. Either way, hes always fun to listen to.
It took Yancy a moment to wrap his mind around what he heard. Hed known many liars but not one who did so for fun, and nobody in the group seemed to care.
Dont rat me out, Ollie, Leo grumbled, or Ill tell him about when you came to town as a lazy streetwalker and settled here just so youd only have to walk a few blocks to cover the whole town.
The very proper baker hit him with her empty banana-bread pan. Crumbs showered over him, but Leo didnt seem to notice. He just grinned and winked at her because he knew hed flustered her. Shes Baptist, he whispered. Never confesses to a thing shes done all her life. Taught home economics down the hall from me, and I can tell you there were some wild parties in that food lab.
She raised the pan as if planning to hit him again, but decided to laugh.
Yancy studied the circle of people. How many of you taught school?
To his surprise all but one raised his hand. A tall, frail man in a black suit, wearing hearing aids in both ears, finally lifted his hand to join the others. I think I qualify, even though I was the principal. Im Mr. Halls. Many a student made a joke about my name. His announcement was a bit loud. A mans name sets his course at birth.
They all nodded as if he were the bravest among the brave. Battle-scarred veterans of decades of fighting their grand war against ignorance might have honed them, but age now left them crippled and alone. One to a house. No husbands or wives surviving, apparently. But they had each other. Somehow in the middle of nowhere, theyd found their place, like a flock of birds huddled together on a tiny lake.
When the two church vans arrived, most of the group climbed on. Only Leo, Cap and the principal remained in the circle with Yancy. When the principal went inside to get his cap, Yancy had to ask, Isnt he going to church? Hes all dressed up.
Cap shook his head. He dresses like that every day. Old habits are hard to break. Hes almost deaf, so whoever sits on his right tends to yell.
When Mr. Halls returned wearing his very proper hat, he didnt seem to notice they were still talking about him.
Yancy leaned back in his metal chair and relaxed. This is it, he thought, my river of peace that prison preacher used to talk about. They might not know it, but these old folks were offering him the bridge to cross from one life to another. He listened as they told him of Crossroads and their lives growing up, of growing old in the Panhandle of Texas, where canyons cut across the flat land and sunsets spread out over miles rich in history wild and deep.
Finally when one of the old men got around to asking what he was doing here in Crossroads, Yancy pointed to the post office and explained that he was looking for a job.
Im traveling light. Just a pack. As he said the words, he stared at the steps and noticed his pack wasnt where hed left it.
My pack! he yelled as he stood and ran toward the post office.
By the time the three old men caught up to him, Yancy had been around the little building twice. The pack was nowhere to be found. No one was around. Hed been in sight of the post office all morning, and he hadnt seen a soul walk past. The only person hed observed stop had been the guy in the pickup, and hed been long gone before Yancy walked across the street.
Ive been robbed, he said, more surprised that a crime had been committed against him before hed had time to commit one himself than he was worried about his few possessions.
Everything I had was in that pack. He didnt mention that most of it was stuff the prison had given him. A toothbrush. All his socks and underwear. The bloody shirt hed worn when he was arrested and a deck of cards hed spent hours marking.
This is serious, Cap said, passing like an elderly, short General Patton before his troops. This is a crime right in the middle of town. This is outrageous.
Leo didnt seem near as upset. Whatd you have, sonny?
Yancy didnt move. He couldnt tell them how little he had. Theyd probably figure out hed come from prison. All hed walked out with were his goals. I had a good winter coat made of wool, he lied. And a great pair of boots. A shaving kit in a leather carrier and three hundred dollars.
All three old men patted him on the shoulder. They all agreed that that was a great deal to lose.
Cap spoke first. Come on home with me, son. Well call the sheriff, then you can join the few of us who are lucky enough not to have family dragging us to Sunday dinner. Mrs. Ollie always cooks for us.
Yancy was getting into his lie now. I dont have the money to make it to Arizona. A friend of mine said if I could make it to Flagstaff I might have a job waiting.
They patted him again. Dont you worry, Mr. Halls said. Well take up a collection if we dont find who did this. And do you know, my daughter gave me a winter coat thats too big for me. You can have it. I got half a dozen in the closet. She sends either that or two sweaters every Christmas.
Is your coat wool? Yancy asked. After all, it had to match his dream.
It is, Mr. Halls said, and if I remember right, its got one of them heavy zip-out linings.
Yancy tried not to sound too excited. I think itll do, thanks.
Dont thank me. Its the least I can do for a man who was robbed right under our noses.
I can cover the shaving kit, Leo added. I have four Ive never used. If you need gloves, I got half a dozen you can try on. Cant seem to convince my daughter-in-law that I dont like gloves. Why waste time on gloves when you got pockets, I always say, but I swear that woman never listens. Since my birthday is in November, she mails gloves every year. Lucky I wasnt born in July or Id be getting a swimsuit.
Yancy choked down a laugh. This was better than stealing. These folks were giving him more than he could carry off. One thing, Mr. Leo, Id rather not call the sheriff. You see, its my religion to forgive any wrong done me.
Leo swore. Hell, I knew you was one of them van riders all along. Well, if you wont consider converting to my religion of superstition, Ill have to be tolerant of yours. But I got to tell you, son, that forgive-and-forget kind of thinking will lead you down a penniless path.
Yancy did his best to look thoughtful. Im set on my faith, Mr. Leo. For all I know, whoever stole my pack thought he needed it more than I did. Yancy didnt add that was usually his philosophy when he robbed someone.
Leo saw the light. Youre a good man, Yancy Grey, and wed all be lucky to call you a friend. Itll be our pleasure to help you out with anything you need. We might even offer you some handyman work around this place to help you get back on your feet.
Thanks, Yancy managed as he started a list of things that hed forgotten were in his pack. A watch. A new wallet. Id be thankful for any work. Ive been laid off for a while.
Everyone jumped as Mr. Halls shouted, A man on a mission is a man who cant be bested.
Leo and Cap nodded, but Yancy had a feeling the old principal was walking the halls in his mind reading quotes hed seen along the walls of the high school.
CHAPTER FIVE
Lauren
THE COUNTY HOSPITAL had its own kind of sounds. Like echoes in Ransom Canyon and the lone clank of a windmill turning on the prairie or the rustle of paper in empty school hallways, hospital noise was unique.
The place rumbled like a train station. Phones rang, pagers beeped, and machines hummed and ticked like the final clock measuring someones life away.
There was a rush about the people in white one moment and a stillness the next. Lauren had no idea what time it was. Shed seen a clock not long after shed been wheeled in that said 2:00 a.m., but that had been hours ago.
In a hospital, only the smell of antiseptic seemed to remain the same. In her windowless space, she could have been waiting a few hours or a day.
Lauren sat alone in the third curtained-off emergency room cubicle, drifting off now and then, only to wake to the same nightmare.
She knew Tim was in the first bed. Everyone had rushed toward him when the emergency room doors opened, which told her he was in danger. Funny Tim OGrady, whom shed known all her life, might die! No one shed ever been close to had ever died. Thinking about it wasnt funny at all, she realized.
A nurse had helped her onto the examination table when shed first arrived and checked her leg. At least she thought she was a nurse. Without her glasses she couldnt read any of the name tags. For all she knew, she was the janitor. For a while she worried that Pop would be mad that shed lost another pair of glasses, but decided that was so far down the lecture list it didnt matter.
The nurse was back.
Youre going to need a few stitches and a few shots, no-name in white said. Youre lucky. That first boy looks like he took a Humpty Dumpty fall.
Can they put him back together again? Lauren smiled at their nursery-rhyme code.
The nurse frowned as if shed crossed some line in protocol. Im sure hell be fine. Hes getting the best care here.
Lauren nodded, but she didnt feel very lucky, and she wasnt at all sure Tim would be fine. If she were lucky, she wouldnt have gone into that haunted house. Following Reid Collins was the dumbest thing shed ever done. He might have twice her muscles, but he only had about half her brain cells. If his dad wasnt rich, Reid would be lost. As it was, hed probably run for Crossroads mayor in another twenty years. First he thought he was a football star because he had the jacket, and now he considered himself a hero.
No-name carefully pulled the curtain closed as she vanished. Lauren waited, fighting the need to slip under one of the fabric walls and escape. In her mind she kept backtracking all the way to the church, thinking of every wrong turn she must have taken to end up here. If she could get do-overs, shed have stayed with Mrs. Patterson to talk about all the things the old lady thought were on Laurens mind.