“That’s one of the owls,” I say. “Do you remember which one?”
“Umm,” she says, “the barber owl!” She thinks she’s being funny.
“You’re close.” I give her a squeeze.
“The barred one?” she tries.
“Bingo!” I say. “I think he’s calling for his friend to come hang out with him.”
“Really?”
“That’s what I imagine.”
It’s so lovely on this wooded lot at night, I tell myself. I’m once again consciously trying to like Shadow Ridge. I’m trying to block the creepiness of the woods from my mind and put aside thoughts of the redbud tree covered with dead squirrels. I had to pay a guy two hundred dollars to clean up that mess. My father offered, but I refused to let him take on that job.
“Isn’t it beautiful here?” I ask Rainie as I rub her back.
“It’s sooo beautiful,” she agrees, cuddling closer to me on the hammock. Above us we can see only trees, the leaves blackened by night, and beyond them a few dots of starlight.
I finally found a fencing company willing to work on my property. Anton, the young blond owner of the company, who looked like he just stepped off his surfboard, walked the proposed fence line with me and he didn’t bat an eye when we got to the brush between the path and the lake. “Oh, we do this kind of thing practically every day,” he said, and I felt like hugging him. The composite fence in the front yard will be a contemporary geometric pattern that will look great with the house. Back in the woods, out of sight from the street, it will be black chain link. They’ll start clearing the brush and digging the holes for the posts tomorrow and I can’t wait.
Rainie is asleep when I notice a distant light through the trees. It doesn’t seem high enough to be a plane, but it must be. The height must be some sort of illusion. I leave Rainie in the hammock and cross the deck to the start of the trail. I take a few steps onto the path to get a little closer to the light. Then I freeze. It must be coming from the tree house! That’s the only possibility. Oh, God. Could it be the redheaded woman? I race back to the deck, lift Rainie from the hammock, and rush into the house, locking the door behind me.
Then I call Samantha Johns.
Chapter 42
ELLIE
1965
I wrote back to Win immediately.
Yes, please come! I live in the only house on Hockley Street in Round Hill. Park on Round Hill Rd after dark, not on Hockley where the car would stand out. Then walk to the end of Hockley Street. You’ll need a flashlight, but try not to use it till you get to the woods at the end of the street. There’s a narrow road into the woods. Walk down it a ways till you come to a circular area with no trees. You’ll see my light. I’ll be there at nine pm on August 2 and 3. Come whichever date you can. Be very careful. I love you.
I pictured Jocelyn getting the mail. Seeing that envelope with no return address and my handwriting disguised. I pictured her giving it to Win. I imagined the scene obsessively as I stocked the shelves in the pharmacy. It was the only thing that had made me smile in days.
On Monday night, I told Mama I had a headache and was going to bed early. It was just the two of us at home. Daddy and Buddy were both out. The men from Daddy’s American Legion still got together to play poker, and I was glad they weren’t giving my father the cold shoulder the way Mama’s friends were doing to her. And who knew where Buddy was. He smelled of booze in the mornings and I was worried about him, but I knew that right now wasn’t the time to confront him. I was tiptoeing around everyone. I’d caused my family pain and I was trying to go about my days quietly without making a fuss. None of us mentioned SCOPE, race, poverty, politics, bridge, poor sales at the pharmacy, or anything of any importance whatsoever. When we spoke at all, it was usually about the weather.
I arranged my pillows under my blankets so that my bed looked slept-in, then I left my bedroom and walked quietly to the stairs. Mama had the television on, and I could hear the drone of TV voices. I tiptoed down the stairs and out the back door, carrying my sleeping bag, a flashlight, and a paper bag containing two brownies I’d baked when I got home from the pharmacy. I’d given Win the choice of tonight or tomorrow night. If he didn’t come tonight, I didn’t know if I could survive another whole day like this one, waiting and hoping, my heart pounding nonstop all day long.
The moon was brighter than I’d anticipated, and my eyes adapted quickly to the darkness. In my imagination, the night had been far too dark for Win to be seen as he walked toward the woods at the end of the street. It was dark enough, I reassured myself. And besides, the only other person on Hockley Street tonight was my mother and she was parked in front of the TV, thinking her wayward daughter was safe upstairs.