Whispering, Idaho Read online

  Alice recalled her mother lighting three green candles on Christmas Eve, placing them along the mantle above a blazing fire. Half-burnt candles perched along a radiator just wasn’t going to hack it. Her stomach sank at the realization that her family celebrations would never be the same again. She imagined next Christmas to include a weeping mother and a visit to the jail.

  “I’m not going," Alice mumbled, striking a match with weak fingers.

  “What?” Gena said.

  “Nothing,” Alice said, lighting the third candle. The wind picked up, flapping the makeshift curtains like fresh laundry, snuffing out the flames.

  Gena and Sunstar giggled in the half-light. Alice banged the window closed.

  “Shit, Alice. You just shut out poor old Mother Nature.”

  Alice took a drink of beer. “It’s either that or sit in the dark telling stories about ball lighting.” She struck a match and relit the candles.

  “What are you talking about?” Gena said.

  “Lightning that comes through open windows,” Alice said, collapsing down the radiator onto the floor. She tipped up the rest of the beer, swallowing the sweet liquid, feeling her body turning to mush.

  “She’s shitting us, isn’t she?” Sunstar said, taking a seat next to Gena on the sofa.

  “No, I’m not. Once, a ball of lightning rolled straight through my cousin Rayleen’s front door and out the back. She was home alone. Scared the shit out of her.”

  “Please say it wasn’t in Whispering,” Gena pleaded.

  “Best, Idaho. She made the front page.” Alice flicked her fingers. “Hair standing on end.”

  “Be right back,” Gena said, flying off the davenport into the kitchen. Alice heard the kitchen window slam shut. “I’m scared,” she said, dashing back to the sofa and ducking under Sunstar’s outstretched arm, nestling close.

  “I’m a sucker for a damsel in distress.”

  Another deafening crack of thunder and Miss Green’s pounding started all over again. Alice threw up her hands and clambered to her feet, grabbing onto the radiator to steady herself. “I’m gonna give that Miss Green a piece of my mind.”

  “Save your fucking breath,” Sunstar said, squeezing Gena’s shoulders.

  Alice set the beer bottle down next to the radiator and stumbled toward the door. “I’ll be next door. Send in the troops if I don’t come back in ten minutes.”

  “Alice’s drunk,” Gena said. “We’ve corrupted her.”

  Alice laughed, saying, “It’s too late for that.” She reached for the doorknob at the same time a key rattled in the lock from the outside. Alice jumped back.

  “Goddammit, Alice. Let me in!” her father shouted, pounding on the door.

  Alice sprinted back to the davenport. “It’s him,” she whispered. “What am I going to do?”

  The door creaked; the glass rattled in the frame. “Open up, Alice.”

  “If he keeps that up, he’ll break the door down,” Gena said. “Do something, Sunstar.”

  “Like what?”

  “Hide the beer,” Alice said.

  Sunstar grabbed the empties and ran into the kitchen. She heard the oven door slam. He appeared again in the doorway just as Alice’s father shouted something about the goddamned key. Miss Green pounded on the wall, yelling something about the calling the police.

  “That’s it,” Alice said. “Put the chain on, Sunstar. That’ll hold him off until the police get here.”

  “What chain,” Sunstar said, turning back from the battered, creaking door.

  Alice ignored Sunstar. She dropped onto the davenport and picked up the telephone receiver with a shaking hand. She dialed the operator and said, “Give me the police. There’s an intruder trying to break down my door. Yes, thank you. Hello, this is Alice Sharp.”

  “That does it, fucker. You cracked the goddamned glass. I’m suing your ass!” Sunstar shouted.

  “Who’s there?” Alice’s father yelled through the door.

  “None of your business, asshole,” Sunstar said, shadow-boxing back into the candle-lit room.

  “Shush!” Gena hissed. “Alice’s on the phone.”

  “Just say the word, Alice, and I’ll deck the asshole.”

  “Okay, thank you,” Alice said, dropping the phone into the cradle. “They’re on their way.”

  Lightning lit up the room; thunder rattled the windows. Alice’s father pounded and shouted, “Open up, dammit.

  Alice clutched at her cross. “Please, God, make them hurry.”

  Gena scooted up next to her. “It’ll be alright.”

  Alice hung her head. “I just wish I hadn’t drunk the beer. I feel like backed up water.”

  She turned at the sound of the front door squeaking open, footsteps thudding up the stairs, jumping with each shout and scuffle. A sharp rap, followed by a beam of light shining through the curtain brought her to her feet.

  “Police. Open up.”

  Officer Wise’s tall frame loomed large behind the beam of his long silver flashlight. Rain water streamed from the brim of his hat, the same hat he’d worn when he saved Alice from the neighbor’s dog. She was only ten at the time and his kindness toward her then always made her happy to see him.

  “Family matter, Miss Sharp?”

  “Dad was trying to break in,” Alice said, hearing the quiver in her voice as she spoke.

  “She’s . . . a slut,” her father groused from the shadows where a second officer held him by the arm.

  The smell of bourbon and Old Spice aftershave wafted across the landing, sickening Alice, reminding her of the night the bad thing happened.

  “Keep it civil, Mr. Sharp. There’s a lady present.” Officer Wise drew a hand over his face. “Letting him in would’ve saved me a trip out in this storm, Alice.”

  “He would’ve hurt me again. See these bruises?” She held out her arm. Officer Wise aimed his light across her black and blue skin.

  Her father hollered, “It’s the boy . . . not me.”

  Sunstar shouted over Alice’s shoulder. “Asshole tried to break the door down. Cracked the fucking glass.”

  “Watch the language, Son.” Officer Wise shone the light on the cracked glass, then to Sunstar.

  “This is Sunstar, the apartment house manager. Gena Anderson’s here too. We were watching the storm when the lights went out. Then dad showed up and started breaking down the door. I was frightened. He’s mean when he drinks.”

  The officer noted something on a clip board with his pencil, then turned and nodded to the other officer. “Drunk and disorderly. Let him sleep it off at our place.”

  “You lying bitch. I’ll get you for this.”

  “Watch it,” the other officer said, wrestling Alice’s father down the stairs.

  Miss Green bolted out her door and shouted over the railing, “Lock the bastard up. He did it. He ruined everything. Oh, my Carl. Oh, God.”

  Officer Wise turned, aimed his flashlight beam down the hall to where Miss Green wailed.

  “Police business, Stella. Go back inside. Try to get some sleep.”

  She waved him off as she turned away. The door slammed.

  “Everyone has to get into the act,” Officer Wise said, checking his watch. He scratched his pencil across a form and handed it to Alice. “Sign here, Dear.”

  Alice signed her name by flashlight with a quaking hand.

  “Anything else?”

  Alice wanted to say yes and could they talk privately.

  Instead she said, “Not tonight. Thank you.”

  “No problem. Stay put. Not a fit night for man nor beast. Give my best to your mother.”

  Alice closed the door. She’d talk to Stephen about installing a chain lock. She stumbled back into the living room and dropped onto the davenport between her two friends.

  Gena squeezed her hand. “Way to go, Alice. You took care of your problem.”

  “Fucker better pay for that broken pane.”

  Alice jumped as a spray of rain pel
ted the window. “Don’t worry. Broken glass can be fixed.”

  CHAPTER 10

  The next morning while Gena slept, Alice stood at the window gazing out at the soggy yard. Dripping maple leaves and street puddles reflected the bright, hot sun. Her first night in her new apartment and she’d sent her father to jail. She watched a gray squirrel scamper from one soaked branch to another, shaking water droplets free to drift through the sunlight to the ground. She wondered what her father would do to her once he got out of jail.

  The bed squeaked. “What are you looking at?”

  Alice answered her yawning friend. “There’s a squirrel stuffing his mouth full of leaves. Do they eat them?”

  “Who cares? They’re just big rats with bushy tails, you know.”

  “No, they’re not. They’re totally cute.”

  “Ask anyone,” Gena said, climbing out of bed. “Got any coffee?”

  “In the cupboard to the left of the sink.”

  “Will you make it?”

  “You make it. I have to get going. I need to talk to Mom before Dad does,” Alice said, reaching for her jeans, pulling them on beneath her nightgown.

  “Never mind. I’ll bum a cup from Sunstar,” Gena said, tugging a comb through her bleached-blonde hair. She headed for the door in the same baggy shorts and T-shirt from the night before. “Having your own apartment is great. Just think, you could be waking up next to Stephen one of these days.”

  “Why do you have to talk that way?” Alice said, centering her cross over the cleft of her throat.

  “Sorry, Alice. It’s a habit. You’ll get through this. Trust me,” she said, opening the door. “Back in a flash.”

  Alice pulled off her nightgown, then slipped on a white T-shirt. It bothered her the way Gena talked about sex, like it was something cheap and easy. She sat on the arm of the davenport, opening her drawing book. Quick, loose lines brought the squirrel to life on the page. Next to the drawing, she jotted, Gray squirrel stuffing leaves in mouth. First night: thunder storm and dad going to jail. Today, I’m telling Mom about the rape. He’ll be back if I don’t stop him. Miss Green was right. He should be locked up for good.

  An image of his drunken face pushed into her mind. Automatically her fingers went to her throat where just recently his palm had pressed into her neck, choking her. She shook her head, bailing the weight of the memory before she capsized.

  Loud music accompanied an eruption of voices in the foyer, startling Alice. She dropped her book to the floor. She pulled open the door, careful not to jar the cracked glass, and then ran out into the hall. There at the bottom of the stairs her friends faced off, fists clenched. Miss Green leaned over the balcony yelling something about scourge of damn hippies over the loud music.

  Alice felt a rush of energy wing through her. Her fists clenched for the yell, “Leave her alone.”

  Sunstar looked up, frowned, turned on his heels and headed down the hall. Music faded; the door slammed.

  “Be that way,” Gena shouted. She stormed out the front door.

  “Nothin’ good will come of this,” Miss Green yelled. “That goes for you too, Red!”

  “You’re getting on my nerves,” Alice said, her heart racing from her bravery. She ran down the stairs. “And my names not Red.”

  “I saw him go under, your old man.”

  “Whatever,” Alice said, crashing out the front door in time to see Gena climbing into her car.

  “Wait. Don’t go!” Alice ran around to the driver’s side of the Mustang and pounded on the glass. “Come to the river.”

  Gena rolled down the window. “Not now. I’m feeling too pissy.”

  “Water will take the weight off.”

  “What about your mother?”

  “Jail probably isn’t even open yet. You wouldn’t take no for an answer the other day, so I won’t either. Come on. Get out of the car.”

  Gena climbed out, slammed the door. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

  “What happened?”

  “He’s an asshole. That’s what happened.”

  “Dad’s an asshole. Sunstar’s a damn hippy.”

  Laughing, Gena headed down the path to the beach. “He’s a hippy, that’s for sure.”

  Alice ran past her friend, drinking in the smell of rain-washed pine and clumped beach grass.

  Gena caught up with her. “Sunstar’s bullheaded. I just want to have some fun. You know, eat a hotdog, and shoot off firecrackers. What’s the big deal? All he wants is to find some secluded place by the river to watch the show. He’s such a pot head.”

  “I thought you liked that about him.”

  “It was fun for a while. Now I hate him.”

  “What about Rod?”

  “He hasn’t called yet. I hate both of them,” Gena said, climbing up onto a boulder, hunkering down.

  Alice climbed up next to her and elbowed her in the ribs. “One thing I know is pot and men alter your thinking. Someone told me once, just decide what you want and do it.”

  “Humph!”

  “Well, look at me now. I have my own place.”

  “Look what it took to get you there. You were motivated by a bad situation.”

  Alice fell silent. She watched the river froth and churn. The pain was mostly gone, but she still had the pregnancy to worry about. She drew a hand across her stomach.

  “Water reminds me of a chocolate soda,” Gena said.

  “Sounds good. Wanna get lunch later?”

  “Trent Café at noon?”

  “Perfect, I’ll have talked to Mom by then. I’ll catch you up on my funeral plans.”

  “You’re morbid.”

  The sun came out from behind a billowing white cumulus, glaring blindingly off the wet sand. Alice shaded her eyes and watched mist flowing like wedding chiffon. A patch of brush faded and brightened as the river breeze caught the mist. Alice sucked in her breath, pointing. “Look there—past the willows—the fox.”

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “There, can’t you see it?” Alice jumped down from the rock. “Stephen says it visits when he meditates. Maybe it has magical powers.”

  “Maybe your mother’s right about your imagination. I don’t see a thing.”

  “There’ll be prints in the sand, you’ll see. Come on.”

  “No way. Only wild animals I’m into walk upright.”

  Alice hurried through the mist, searching the sand for tracks. Rivulets of rainwater had washed debris into piles, forming tiny damns and then pools. The surrounding sand lay flattened and pocked by the hard rain, but no fox prints were to be seen. Shrugging, she returned to the rock. “It’s weird. I couldn’t find even a sign of the animal. I know I saw him.”

  “You seem different today.” Gena studied her, gray eyes wide and clear. “I got it, no frown.”

  “I slept last night. Usually I’m on edge, even the house creaking alerts me and I’m wide awake. Last night was the first good night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

  “By the way, you’re a bed hog. I was hugging the metal frame half the night.”

  “No, you didn’t. Remember, I was up before you. You were sprawled out like you owned the place,” Alice said, laughing. “We better get going.”

  “You’re working today?” Gena asked, slipping from the rock to the damp sand.

  “I’m quitting my job. But I got to explain to Mom about last night. She’s going to be pissed.”

  “Wait a minute, how will you pay rent?”

  “My paintings. Maybe I can get a show at the museum.”

  “Good luck.”

  “I’ll make it, you’ll see. So, who is it now, Rod or Sunstar for the celebration?”

  “Sunstar. He’s going to have to budge on this celebration thing though, or I’ll be hanging out with you and Stephen,” Gena said, laughing. “Come on. I’ll drive you up the hill.”

  Alice didn’t want to tell her mother about the rape. Her stomach went all jittery just th
inking about blurting out the obscene story. If she didn’t he’d be back for more. She pushed away her thoughts as she studied the gray-green willows drooping toward the low water like chained animals. Beyond the trees, riverweed thrashed in the coursing water like Alice’s thoughts that broke through again.

  She closed her eyes, rolling her cross between her fingers. Maybe if she prayed hard enough, God would bring her her period. Who did she think she was kidding? She’d be moving out of her apartment into the Wayward Girls’ Home in no time. And Stephen would never speak to her again. She wiped sweat with the back of her hand across her brow.

  “You’re quiet. Don’t tell me sour-ass Alice is back,” Gena said.

  “Do you think the beds in the Wayward Girls’ Home are comfortable?”

  Gena slowed the car and bumped off the road onto the shoulder. She stared at Alice over the top of her sunglasses.

  “What, do I look pregnant? Is it that obvious?”

  “No, silly. I just wanted to show you Stephen’s place. Over there, behind the ugly snag. Maybe we’ll get lucky and catch sight of him working without his shirt.”

  “Let’s go!”

  “Don’t be silly. You’re worried about being pregnant, so just marry him and raise the kid together.”

  Alice gasped. “But he’d have to be a Saint to want to raise a bastard."

  “He doesn’t have to know he’s not the father.”

  Alice frowned and ran her hand over her abdomen. It was larger, she was sure of it. “Don’t talk that way. I’d rather have an abortion then betray him.”

  “Just an idea.” The sound of an approaching motorcycle drew Gena’s attention. “Cool!” she shouted as the bike shrieked past.

  Alice stared hard through the dust at the vanishing rider. “That was Rod!”

  “No way. Must be a dozen or more red motorcycles in this town.”

  Alice recalled the morning after the bad thing when Rod had looked her over. She felt raw, naked in front of his stare. “It was too Rod. Kind of in a hurry.”

  “Maybe he’s on his way to my house. Let’s follow him.”

  “I need to get home, Gena.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make up for lost time.” Gena floored it and raced off.