“I don’t know why we’re talking about this.”
“I just wanted to hear what it’s like,” she said.
“I can’t tell you what it’s like. You won’t believe it if I try, and I don’t give a damn what you think. It’s a waste of everybody’s time.”
“I might believe it.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“You can see death before it happens,” she said. “That’s what Paul said.”
He didn’t answer.
“Did you see anything with Walter Sorenson?” she asked.
He studied her for a long time before saying, “No, I didn’t.”
“Why do you think that was?”
“I’m not sure. But I suspect it’s got something to do with this place.”
“This place?”
“That’s right. There’s something wrong here.”
He could see her throat move when she swallowed. She said, “You can feel that?”
“Sure,” he said. “Can’t you?”
She said, “I’m not part of it. You think that I am, but I’m not. When I arrived, it was with the expectation that I’d be leaving soon, just like you.”
“That some kind of warning?”
She didn’t reply.
“Answer the question I asked,” he said. “Do you feel like there’s something wrong with this place?”
“Of course. It hangs in the air like the salt smell from the water. But I don’t need to have feelings about it. I’ve been here far too long for that. You have bad feelings; I have bad memories.”
They fell silent after that. Eventually he said, “As long as everybody’s trading questions, I have one for you. Why don’t you like to be called Becky?”
She’d bristled every time someone said it, from Sorenson to Barrett, the delivery driver. It seemed to Arlen to go well beyond a dislike of the nickname.
She looked at him with a steady gaze, but something in her face faltered. He felt, for just a moment, as if she were about to tell him things that had gone unsaid for too long. As if she kept a silence that pained her. He knew about that. He had his own untold tale, guarded for years, but somehow, on this porch, lit by the fading sun and warmed by the Gulf breeze, he wanted to tell it to her. That last part was key. To her.
She turned from him, though, and when she spoke her voice was distant and her eyes were on the sea.
“People used to call me that,” she said. “Different people in a different place. I’m not that person anymore, so that name… it doesn’t suit me these days. It’s not mine, not anymore.”
She rose then and walked to the end of the porch and stood with her back to him as the last smears of red light faded, and though they shared the shadowed space, they were each alone with their silent sorrows.
16
REBECCA WAITED UNTIL THE next morning to try to get rid of them. She came out onto the porch, where Paul was working on the generator and Arlen was sanding down pieces of the broken railing from the roof deck, and held out a slim stack of worn dollar bills.
“Here,” she said. “You’ve earned it, and I don’t want to make you stay any longer. I can drive you into High Town, let you find a ride from there.”
Arlen just sat back on his heels and didn’t speak. Paul looked from the money in her hand to her face and frowned.
“We’re not finished,” he said.
“You’ve done enough. You’ve done more than enough.”
He shook his head. “No. I’m going to get this generator running again.”
“There’s no need to—”
“You trying to run us off because the judge’s friends are coming?”
That stopped her.
“No, it’s just… you’ve both already done enough,” she fumbled. “You were a big help, but you’ve done enough, and I can’t afford to keep you on anymore. So please take the money and I’ll drive you—”
“I’m going to finish this job.”
She stared at him, then slowly folded her hand over the bills. Her eyes were still on Paul, but they’d gone distant.
“Listen to me,” she said. “It might be best if you weren’t around tonight.”
“Why? Who are these guys? Are you in some kind of trouble?”
Arlen said, “Paul, it ain’t your concern,” but the boy never looked at him.
“Are you in some kind of trouble?” he repeated.
“No, I’m not. But when Solomon Wade rents this place out, he wants it empty. It’s supposed to be for his friends; no one else is allowed.”
“Well,” Paul said, “we’re here.”