They honk, but she keeps moving up the road, easing back onto the proper road and trying to stay in the right lane. Emma twists the truck around the bends, passes downtown Ider, and keeps going until she sees the green sign with white letters flashing back to the right, “Grinder’s Switch Road.”
She puts on a blinker, slows the truck and turns down the gravel road. Emma looks left and right for the big American flag flying by the roadside. About a half a mile down the road, she sees it flapping in the partial moonlit night on the right, above a wooden mailbox and two fence posts framing the driveway. She turns into the driveway, and sees the house about 100 yards away with only one dim porch light on. She drives about 50 more yards, and pulls the truck to the side of the driveway, turns it off, gets out, and starts walking to the front door of Michael’s house.
The doorknocker is a fist-size steel ball wrapped in twine that is nailed to the front door. The steel ball lands when knocked in the middle of a hand painted sign on small tree stump.
“Bless This House,” the sign reads.
Emma bangs the twine-bound ball against the sign on the front door.
Rap, Rap, Rap.
A dog howls and barks.
Rap. Rap. Rap.
Emma knocks again.
The door opens with just a crack. The dog sticks its nose through the door.
“It’s okay, Blue,” says a sleepy male voice. “Quiet.”
Emma puts her right hand to the dog’s nose. It sniffs, and silences.
“What do you need?” the man says.
Emma senses this is Michael’s father at the door, though she can’t see him.
“Michael,” she says. “I need Michael.”
“Do you know what time it is young lady? Michael is asleep. He’s traveling back to New York in the morning. Shall I tell him you paid a visit?”
“No,” Emma says. “I mean, yes. But I must see him. Tonight.”
“I hate to wake him. He’s got a long trip back, and semester exams start Monday.”
“I see. But sir, I … I must see him. Please. I must.”
“Who should I tell him is calling at this late hour?”
“Emma,” she says. “Tell him its Emma.”
“Emmaline Mays? The preacher’s daughter?”
“Yes. Emma.”
“It’s awfully late for you to be out.”
“Maybe I’m just up very early.”
The man laughs.
“That you are. Very well. Wait here. I’ll see if I can get him up. Sleeps like a log you know.”
No, Emma thinks. She doesn’t know.
Emma waits for four or five minutes, pulling her jacket tightly in the chilled late-November air. She hears fast footsteps coming her way. The door swings open wide.
“Emma!” Michael says. He’s wearing a tight white cotton t-shirt with an NYU logo and baggy, light-blue sleeping pants, and a sort of smile.
“What are you doing here?” he says.
Michael looks out the door, beyond Emma, and to the left and the right. “How did you get here? Is anybody with you?”
“No. Nobody is with me. I’m here alone.
“Can I come in?”
“Yes, sorry. I, umm, yes. Come in.”
Michael walks Emma into a dark living room lit only by remaining embers simmering in a large brick fireplace. Blue follows.
“Here,” Michael says, moving a quilt from the couch, “have a seat.”
Emma clutches her arms around herself. Michael gets a log from a stack next to the fireplace and tosses it on the embers. He stokes the fire, making it pop and sizzle.
“Now,” he says. “Tell me what you are doing here?”
“Where did you go Michael?”
“I left early for school. I took classes in the second summer session at NYU. I haven’t been home since. I’m leaving in the morning to go back.”
“Your father told me.”
“I like you Emma,” Michael says. “Well I guess I never really got to know you. But I feel like I like you. I feel like I know you.”
“I’m just a girl,” she says. “Just a simple preacher’s daughter.”
“That’s true,” he says.
“But there’s more.”
“Maybe. I don’t know. All I know is the parsonage, the church, the garden, chores, and a few books.”
“You know you want something different. That’s why you are here. Right?”
“By the way, tell me now. How did you get here?”
“I drove.”
“You drove? You have a car? You can drive?”
“I am learning,” Emma says. “I borrowed one.”
“You borrowed someone’s car at midnight and you are learning how to drive? Okay.
“Tell me about David. You will marry him?”