Green Lake (9 page)

He threw himself onto his bunk and closed his eyes, tired of it.

Sheila watched him, hating every freckle, every little hair in his eyebrows. The lazy, greedy, worthless bastard. She knew she should have left him the first time he hit her. She knew it. But by then she already had Kelsey, and no way to get a job without a high-school diploma. Her mom couldn't keep Kelsey because she worked, and there was no way Sheila could go back to high school with a baby. It was stupid to go on and have another baby, and even more stupid to have a third one. But Sheila loved her babies so much. They took all the love she had to give and gave it all back to her, something Ronnie would never come close to experiencing, let alone understanding. He was incapable of feeling love for anything. All he wanted out of life was food, shelter, free money, and someone to hit.

That someone wasn't going to be her anymore, Sheila told herself. The filthy, disgusting animal wasn't going to get near her or her two other little girls. Let him go back to live with his mother and knock her around again. She was used to putting up with it. She had put up with it from Ronnie's dad, and then from Ronnie's older brother, and then from Ronnie. She did everything she was told and never argued. If anyone asked, she thought her boys were the most wonderful men ever to walk the earth. There were none better.

They were all sick, Sheila told herself.

All of them but her. After the funeral tomorrow, she was getting away. She was leaving and going to one of the other shelters who had offered help. Maybe they would help her get a GED so she could try and get a job somewhere. She could live in low-income housing and take a bus to work. She and the girls would get on all right without Ronnie. They might even do better, looking at the way things had gone for them so far. Sheila had never felt right about taking things from other folks. Her own mother was dumb as dirt and twice as poor, but she never took nothing from no one. She waitressed and carhopped and worked from the time she was fifteen, and there were plenty of times she could have applied for welfare and gotten it, but she never did.

Sheila wasn't going to apply for it if she didn't have to, but she would wait and see how things worked out. The people in the shelter were really understanding and helpful and easy to talk to about such things. They understood when women feared the men they lived with, but feared going it alone even worse. But this thing with Kayla, this thing with her poor, dead baby was all she needed to get her mind made up. She had to get away from him. He was bad and he always had been bad and he wasn't going to be getting better anytime soon. All she needed for tomorrow was to line up some transportation for her and the girls. Then she would be gone, and Ronnie and all his lying, scheming, and cheating people by crying on television would be behind her.

CHAPTER TEN

“He declined,” said Manuel in answer to his wife's question about whether Eris Renard would be joining them for dinner.

Madeleine had known he would, but still her limbs stiffened.

Jacqueline glanced at her before continuing to mix a blender full of daiquiris.

“I forgot to mention it earlier, Madeleine, but your in-laws called me Thursday evening. They wanted to know where you were and how you're getting along. I said you were at our cabin, but I didn't say where. They wanted to know if you needed any money.”

Her head lifted sharply, and Madeleine stared at her sister. “What?”

“His mother admitted how insensitive they were after Sam's suicide. They blame it on shock. Now they realize everything you said was true, and they want to try to make it up to you.”

“Bullshit,” said Madeleine, and Manuel frowned at her in disapproval.

Jacqueline's look was patient. “I told them I would speak to you. If you wanted to contact them, you would.”

“I don't want to.”

“I thought as much.”

“Can you blame me?” Madeleine asked, her temper flaring.

“They practically accused me of murdering their son. How do you expect me to feel?”

“Just as you do,” Jacqueline soothed. “Forget I mentioned it.” She turned to Manuel then said, “Madeleine took me over to meet her new friends today.”

“The children you mentioned last night?”

“Yes,” said Madeleine, relaxing somewhat. “We had a good afternoon.”

“I got to call bingo,” said Jacqueline, pretending to preen. “And I was very good.”

Manuel smiled at her and reached down to hand a scrap of the fat he was trimming off the steaks to the kittens at his feet.

He did like cats. He played with them and talked to them and lovingly scratched their arched little backs.

“Hey,” Jacqueline said. “Don't feed them on the floor. Find a plate if you're going to give them scraps.”

Manuel swatted her on the bottom and she swatted playfully back, until he caught her and brought her to him for a kiss.

Madeleine noiselessly excused herself and went out to the front porch, feeling embarrassed and a little envious of her sister and her luck in finding someone who suited her so perfectly.

Sam and Madeleine had not been nearly so compatible, and she often thought she had married him simply because of the horrible experience she had had in her last year in the field and because she was nearing thirty and wasn't married yet. The day she married him she knew in her heart she did not love him in the romantic sense of the word, but he was funny and witty, handsome and athletic, and she loved being with him.

Until he lost his job.

Damn his parents for even daring to offer money after the way they had treated her at the funeral. Their cold stares and their refusal to ride in the limo with her or even sit near her during the service. How they had the gall to call up Jacqueline and—

“Hello,” said a nearby voice, and Madeleine jumped to see Sherman Tanner strolling toward her with his little dog.

“Hello, Mr. Tanner. How are you?”

He ignored the question. The eyes in his thin face were practically glowing.

“Did you hear what they found during the autopsy on the lost little girl?”

Madeleine's mouth tightened in discomfort. “No.”

“Semen,” Tanner said in a delicious, sibilant whisper, as if he were savoring the word. He waited until he saw Madeleine's eyes grow round before he added the words
, “In her stomach”

A shudder passed through Madeleine, and she carefully lowered herself to sit on the porch step. “She was murdered?”

“It would appear so, wouldn't it?” Tanner answered.

A flash of the little girl's face and body appeared in Madeleine's mind and she squeezed her eyelids shut and attempted to push the image away.

“Horrible, isn't it?” said Tanner, still speaking in a whisper.

Madeleine could only nod.

“I heard Renard was the one who found her,” Tanner said.

”A pontoon boat with twelve frightened children found her, Mr. Tanner. Renard took her to shore.”

“Says who?” said Tanner.

“Says me. I was on the pontoon boat.”

Tanner's eyes opened wide. ‘‘You were? You were on the boat with the kids? How did you find her? What did she look like?”

Madeleine stood up in disgust, and she was about to open her mouth and tell Tanner how sick she thought he was when Jacqueline opened the door and said the steaks were almost ready.

“Hello, Mr. Tanner,” she said upon seeing the neighbor. “How are you?”

“All right, then,” said Tanner, and he took his little dog and walked across the yard to the road.

Inside the house Jacqueline imitated his walk and brought a smile to Madeleine's face, but she had lost all desire to eat supper.

“Are you all right?” Jacqueline asked in concern.

“I'm fine, really. Just not as hungry as I thought I was.”

She wouldn't tell them why. She had no wish to destroy their appetites by spreading Tanner's news.

She poured herself a drink and went outside again. She walked around the cabin to check on her tomato plants, and then she found herself wandering over the grass in the direction of Renard's house. He wasn't home, and she didn't quite know what she was doing, but once she was on his porch she somehow felt better.

When he came home it was dark, and his headlights picked her out on the porch. He put his truck in the garage and came around.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” she said, and sipped at her drink. “Why didn't you come to dinner?”

“I didn't want to.”

“How's your toe? I never did see you limp.”

“Better.”

She stood and used one hand to wipe off the seat of her shorts before stepping down. She moved to stand next to him and look up into his face.

“I came because I needed to be with someone who saw what I saw, not necessarily to talk about it. The image of the little girl is still fresh in my mind, and it became even fresher about an hour ago, courtesy of Mr. Tanner. I couldn't eat when I heard, and I couldn't tell Manny and Jac about it, so now two expensive steaks are going uneaten.”

Eris exhaled and fingered the keys in his hand. “Just don't think about it, Madeleine.”

“I'm trying,” she said, aware that his expulsion of breath had fluttered the top of her hair. “Would you talk with me?”

“About what? Linguistics of the central Algonquian tribes?”

She stared at him. “Have you been reading up, or was that a joke?”

“Both.” He hesitated then asked if she wanted to come in.

Madeleine blinked in surprise. “Yes,” she answered, “I want to come in.”

Eris moved past her to unlock the door and push it open. He extended a hand, indicating that she precede him, and she stepped inside. She stopped immediately, since the house was dark and she didn't know what was in front of her. Eris bumped into the back of her and she heard him apologize as he grasped her by the arms and moved her forward a step. He fumbled at the wall and flicked a switch that turned on a light in the ceiling of the living room. Madeleine looked around herself and frowned. He had a recliner, an end table on one side of the recliner, and a small TV sitting on top of a cabinet. The rest of the room was empty. She could feel him looking at her.

“I'm not here much,” he said.

“I know.”

“You can sit in the chair.”

Madeleine sat. It was a nice chair, roomy and comfortable. She dropped her sandals on the floor and pulled up her feet.

He seemed unsure of what to do for a tense moment or two. Finally he sat down on the floor in front of her and said, “Tell me about your field work.”

“Are you interested?”

“Yes,” he said.

“How much do you know of your heritage?”

“Very little. I was raised white.”

“Do you want to learn?” Madeleine asked. “I can help you if you like.” She couldn't help noticing the
band on his hair was loose; the silky black strands that fell over his shoulder made him look somehow wild. The dim light in the living room softened the scars on his face and made his eyes appear jet black as they roved over her features.

“Learn about my heritage from a white woman?” he said with the ghost of a smile.

Madeleine's heart did a strange flop. “Take what you can get.”

“Tell me about your field work,” he said again, and then he asked her if she wanted a Diet Coke. When she said no he retrieved one for himself and settled his long length in front of her again, this time removing his boots. Madeleine looked at his white-stocking feet and said, “I haven't talked with anyone about this in a long time. My last year was a nightmare.”

“Where were you?'' he asked. “On a reservation?”

“Yes. I was studying the evolution of the Sioux languages over the last hundred and fifty years. I became familiar with nearly all the adults, but the children were told never to bother me, and the younger people would have nothing to do with me. I was surprised because everywhere else it was the other way around, with the old ones being mistrustful and ignoring me. Here it was different.”

“By younger you mean teenagers?” Eris asked.

“On up to early twenties,” Madeleine answered. “They behaved as if I were a nonentity. I didn't exist.”

“Must've been difficult for you,” said Eris, and Madeleine looked at him.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. What happened?”

She was silent for a moment, studying him, and then she said, “They abducted me from my bed in the middle of the night, painted my body white, spit on me, kicked me in the face, rode on my back while I crawled on all fours and beat me until I bled. When they were finished doing that, they inserted hot peppers in my lower orifices. Then they left me naked in the middle of a deserted highway, where I wasn't discovered for a day and a half. I was burned, dehydrated, and I gave up field work immediately upon my recovery. I had no way to fight that kind of white hatred.”

Eris was silent for some time, his dark eyes leaving her and then coming back again. Finally, he said, “You didn't press charges?”

“No, I didn't.”

“You started teaching when you came back?”

‘Yes.”

“And now you've given up teaching and want to go back in the field?”

“I don't know which was worse,” said Madeleine, “the peppers or the snotty students.”

Abrupt laughter escaped Eris, and Madeleine found herself watching him.

“You have a nice smile,” she told him, and his face slowly sobered.

“What about it?” she said after a long moment of silence between them. “Do you want to learn about the Sauk-Fox?”

“What are you going to learn?” he asked in his deep, quiet voice.

Madeleine only looked at him.

In the next second she heard Jacqueline's voice calling her name. Madeleine left the chair, slipped on her sandals and walked to the door.

“Come and see me next week,” she said, and didn't wait for a response from him.

She left his tiny, barren house and walked back up to the log cabin. She didn't know if he
would come or not. With Eris Renard, it was impossible to tell.

Eris lay on the floor of his living room after Madeleine was gone and cursed for asking her in to begin with. He took long breaths to still the heart that had begun racing the minute she stepped in the do
or. It had continued to pound the entire time she was there, causing Eris to sit as still as he could and fight to make his voice sound normal.

She didn't know. She didn't know what he went through when she moved so close to him and stood looking up into his face.

He was driving himself crazy wondering if she was teasing him or not, playing with him the way some women liked to play with ugly men.

He thought of what the young Sioux had done to her and knew why she flinched the first few times she was around him. He could only wonder what happened afterward in her life. The difficulty Manuel spoke of earlier.

Eris sighed and covered his face with his hands. He thought he was past all this. He believed he would never put himself through such pangs once he was a grown man, with a grown man's responsibilities. He had no idea what to do about it, other than to stay away from her. But he couldn't see himself staying away from home the entire summer. He guessed maybe he should begin looking for another place to live.

He wondered suddenly what would happen if he turned the tables and came on to her. What she would do. Eris snorted then and sprang up from the floor.

Like he was capable.

He shook his hair loose from its band and went into the bedroom to get out of his uniform. He took a long, warm shower and let the water beat against his head and shoulders until his flesh felt numb.