(2005) Wrapped in Rain (25 page)

Gibby looked up, and when he didn't see Mutt, he asked, "You hungry?"

"Yeah, I think I could eat."

"Good, I think your friends are hungry too. I offered to feed them, but she said she'd wait on you. I think I know just the place."

Clark's was busy when we arrived, but the wait was only forty minutes, so I dropped a quarter in the turtle-feed machine and entertained Jase with turtle food. He was curious. Tender. A sponge. He didn't miss much. When they called "Rain" over the loudspeaker, he said, "Unca Tuck, that's us."

We walked through the restaurant around all the animal mounts and between the plates. Jase's eyes were big as half-dollars. We sat down inside, next to the window overlooking the creek. Our portion of the restaurant sat directly over the water, giving us a lifeguard's view of the creek.

After the waiter brought our drinks, I looked down at Jase, who was sucking milk through a straw and concentrating all his attention on the water. I sipped the tea and let the sweetness swirl around my mouth. Brown glass Budweiser bottles glistened across the room, adding ambiance.

I told them briefly about my trip while Gibby ordered for all of us: shrimp, catfish, fries, hushpuppies, and grits. The waitress set a small bowl of grits in front of Katie, who turned up her nose and nudged them out of the way with her fork. I reached across and slid them back in front. "It's an insult to the cook if you don't try them." I took a bite of my own and smiled. Jase watched her as she dipped her fork. Covering the end in grits, she closed her lips around the steaming cheese-colored paste. After a second of uncertainty, she lifted her eyebrows in surprise, nodded, and took a second bite, larger this time. After all her time in New York, Katie hadn't fallen that far from the tree. Jase saw her smile, dipped in his spoon, scooped out half the bowl, and shoved it in his mouth.

"The best part," I said, looking at both Katie and Jase, "is squishing them between your teeth." Katie covered her eyes as I squeezed the grits between my teeth like pudding. Jase took another spoonful, followed my lead, and spilled grits all over his lap and the table.

We ate and, due to underage ears, Gibby told us the PG version on Mutt. Despite the subject matter, the food was great. Katie paid the bill through a secret alliance forged with the server during a bathroom run, and Gibby led us out to the end of the dock, where he explained his best understanding of Mutt's disappearance.

Cabin lights across the creek glistened on the glasssmooth water. A cool breeze fluttered up the creek and cooled my face. Somewhere in the dark, a mullet jumped six or eight times and disappeared. Off in the distance, an owl hooted, and west, toward the river, we saw the last remaining light from a sun that was, even then, setting over Texas.

"Where will you stay?" Gibby asked.

I hadn't even thought about it.

Katie spoke up before I had a chance to answer. "We've got a room at the Courtyard Marriot, just up the road." I looked at her blankly. Gibby took it in stride while I wrestled with the possessive pronoun in "We've got a room."

"I suppose you'll be off again first thing in the morning?" Gibby asked.

"First light," I said. I looked across the water and wondered if he was alive, drowned, or even in the state of Florida. I knew this was useless.

We dropped Gibby at Spiraling Oaks and drove north the few miles to the Marriott. Jase spotted a BaskinRobbins just south of 1-295, so I pulled in and acted excited about the ice cream while my mind turned over the "We've got a room."

I opened the door to thirty-one flavors and Katie slipped her elbow under mine. "Don't worry. It's a suite. You can have the pull-out couch in the living area."

I ordered a double scoop of chocolate, Katie a single of coffee, and Jase a triple of raspberry sherbet, bubble gum ice cream, and peanut butter fudge all covered with chocolate syrup and a sliced banana.

By the time we made it to our room, it was nine thirty and Jase was leaning on Katie. I picked him up, carried him into the room, and nodded toward the bedroom. Katie pulled back the sheets, and I took off his hat, slipped off his boots, and laid him softly in the bed. Katie zipped him into his flannel pajamas, hugged him, and kissed his cheek, and without a word, he turned on his side and was out.

I followed Katie out the door and into the sitting area. Behind me, in a tired, gentle, and secure whisper, I heard, "Unca Tuck?"

I stuck my head back through the door. "Yeah, buddy."

"You didn't hug me good night."

I walked back to the bed and knelt down. Jase wrapped his arms around my neck and squeezed. He kissed me on the cheek, said, "Good night, Unca Tuck," and lay back down. By the time I reached the door, he was breathing heavily and dreaming about fly rods and big fish.

I closed the door behind me and said, "I don't know much about your ex-husband, but that is a great kid."

"Yes," she said, digging through her overnight bag for some toothpaste, "he is, despite Trevor."

I stood looking out the sliding glass door when Katie came out of the bathroom. In the reflection of the glass, I saw that she was wearing sweats, both top and bottom, for which I was thankful. She sat Indian style on the couch while I watched two kids jumping in and out of the Jacuzzi.

"Tucker," she said, squeezing her hands nervously, "I haven't been entirely honest. But after today and ..." She looked back toward Jase's door. "Well, there are a few things you ought to know."

I sat down opposite her on the floor and leaned my head against the wall. She looked down at her hands and continued. "I've got legal custody and a restraining order, but those mean little to Trevor. Some of his clients are government employees, FBI, and whatnot. I think he'll use them to find me. And when he does ..." She shook her head. "I wonder if, maybe ... well, I've got a few friends in California who would let me stay a few months without asking a lot of questions. And I can get another bike." She looked up and her eyes were glassy with tears. "Maybe we ought to hop on a bus."

I looked out the window and took a long, deep breath. The kids had left the Jacuzzi and the pool was now quiet.

Tucker?

I figured she'd pipe in here before too long. She couldn't bear to stay away with so much going on. To be honest, I needed a little advice.

Tucker? I dropped my head and listened, knowing that a sermonette was soon to follow. Not even Solomon, in all his glory, was arrayed as one of these. So don't worry about tomorrow. Each day has enough worry of its own.

I looked back at Katie. The weight of my answer was pushing down on her. I could see she was caught; she didn't want to leave, but neither did she want to involve me in something that could turn bad in a hurry. Her eye was still black around the base but looked more like lack of sleep than the product of a strong right hand. "Miss Ella used to tell Mutt and me that each day has enough trouble of its own and that we shouldn't worry about that day until it arrives. So right now, let's just worry about today. Tomorrow, we'll worry about tomorrow."

A tear fell out the corner of her right eye and slid down the inside of her nose. She wiped it with her sleeve and stood up off the couch, trying to smile. She wanted to cry but didn't. "I'm tired. I'll see you in the morning."

I nodded and she slipped into Jase's room, closing the door behind her. I listened but never heard it lock.

I lay in bed a long time, still looking at the clock after midnight. I was tired, but more than anything, I was feeling that ache behind my belly button. Only this time, Miss Ella couldn't pull me through her window.

SUN BROKE THROUGH THE WINDOW AND WOKE ME AT half past six. I was mad at myself for sleeping so late, but when I opened my eyes, I froze. Pressed up against my cheek was silky black hair. I slowly lifted my head, saw Jase's closed and sleeping eyes, and smelled the clean and sweaty smell of a little boy. His soft pajamas pressed against my arm, and his hand was curled beneath mine. A good fit.

I tried to slide out from underneath the sheets, but he flopped his arm sideways and laid it across my chest. That's when I smelled the coffee. I looked up and saw Katie sitting in a chair at the end of the sofa bed, holding a cup of coffee between her hands.

She pressed her fingers to her lips and whispered, "Shhh. I woke up an hour ago and he was gone. I ran out here to get you and found him right there." She smiled and kind of half-laughed. "I don't know whether you realize it or not, but I think you've made a friend."

I nodded, gently lifted his arm, slid out from underneath the sheets, and covered him up with the blanket.

I was stepping into the shower when the door cracked just wide enough to slide a cup of coffee through. She set it on the counter and shut the door quietly.

The shower felt good, as did the hot water. I dressed, sipped my coffee, and walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later.

Jase was still asleep, so I slipped on my jacket and walked to the door. "You guys hang out here, and I'll tell Gibby where you are."

"Don't worry," she said, waving me off. "I saw some stores next door. I thought maybe we'd go shopping."

"Figures," I said. "If you want, Gibby can pick you up and take you two fishing or something."

"We'll work it out." She turned and looked at Jase. "If it's okay with you, I think we'll be here when you get back."

I nodded, waved, and closed the door behind me.

The canoe hadn't moved since last night. Dew covered the canvas-strap seats along with the paddles, so I squeegeed them with my hand and cranked the engine. I slipped down the creek back to the fork and turned right again, retracing my steps. By nine, I had cut the engine, paddled, and cut a seam through the black mirror. The sun was warm, so I shed my jacket while the ripe, pungent, and inviting smells of the swamp swirled around me. I coasted beneath the arm of the old rope swing and farther into the creek where it narrowed again.

The water flowed from two directions. The majority of water flowed in from the river, while a smaller current, or stream of water, came down out of the swamp. I paddled into the smaller stream and noticed that the water started getting clearer. Another hundred yards and I realized I had found a spring. The creek ended as abruptly as it had begun, with the spring water bubbling out beneath and around the roots of a cypress. The swamp around me spread out for a hundred yards in every direction.

Having reached a dead end, I turned the canoe, banging both ends on either side of the creek, and headed back to the wider water. When I got there, I smiled because the clear water reminded me of the quarry. It reminded me of the best day.

I paddled into the black water, and that's when it hit me. The best day. If the spring water had reminded me, maybe Mutt had had the same thought.

I turned the canoe and headed back up the creek of clear water, and that's when I saw the bubbles. Smallalmost unnoticeable unless you were looking for themsoap bubbles hanging on the roots of the side of the creek. I pulled the canoe around the base of the cypress tree and lifted a few branches so I could slide the canoe beneath them. I lay down and let the limbs pass over me like a ceiling. When I sat up, the canoe came to rest in what looked like a cul-de-sac. The water came out of the earth beneath me. I could see about forty feet down where a dark hole about three feet across disappeared into the sand and rock below. Around me, the bank was muddy and covered in weeds, purple iris, and white water lilies. An enormous clump of red amaryllis spilled out of the muck and dipped its huge green leaves in the water. A hummingbird flew into and out of one of the snorkel-shaped leaves forming at the end of a fresh stem. The place teemed with life.

A beached canoe rested to my left. On the seat sat a chess set, unfinished in midgame with half the pieces still standing on the board and half-standing in rows across the bottom of the canoe. I followed the footprints to the vinecovered bank, where they disappeared. I studied the bank, looking for any sign of Mutt but saw none. I beached the canoe and stepped out into the spring water that was knee-high and cold. I pulled on the canoe, set my paddle quietly inside, and crept toward the bank. A small shelter had been burrowed in one side, large enough for a man to wedge into with his knees tucked up into his chest. I pulled away the vines, and there looking back at me were two eyes peering out of the layers of caked mud that surrounded every inch of his body. From this dark mass, the whites of his two eyes stared out at me. And in the middle of the dark mass were two very clean hands.

His hair was knotted and stringy, and he was shaking, almost shivering. I slid up through the mud, next to the bank, and leaned against the vines, not saying a word, wondering if this was the beginning or the end. Mutt's eyes never left mine. After three or four minutes, he opened his right hand, and in the palm was a small bar of soap, well used and soon to be done with. His left hand was clenched tightly close to his chest, unmoving. He extended his right arm and held the soap out to me. I reached out and slowly took the soap, and he retracted his arm almost mechanically.

His face looked swollen with mosquito bites, as did his clean hands. Mutt didn't say a word. It was the worst I had ever seen him. It was the worst I had ever seen anyone. He was a breathing shell.

"Hey, buddy," I whispered. His eyes never flinched. I washed my hands. "What're you thinking about?"

A few minutes passed, and he looked out over the swamp. In a hoarse, almost silent whisper, he said, "Boxing up the sunshine ... riding a cloud ... raking the rain."

He extended his hand and waved it across the landscape.

"Is there room on that cloud for two?"

He thought for a moment, looked down into his left hand at whatever he was hiding, opened it slightly, closed it quickly, and nodded. "Slide over," I whispered.

We sat for an hour in the dark without saying another word. Without warning, Mutt looked at me and said, "You remember when Miss Ella used to read to us out of her Bible?"

I nodded, surprised at so clear a thought.