49

I followed Zachariah to his trailer, keeping my distance in case he turned around, but he didn’t. He kept right on going like somebody had told him there was a fire that needed putting out. He lived near the front of the trailer park, close to a highway I didn’t know. As I lingered a few trailers down, standing in the shade of a large pickup truck, I realized how hungry I was and how long it had been since I’d last had anything to eat. When he went inside his trailer, I looked around for what I hoped might be a kind face.

I didn’t see one. Hell, I didn’t see anybody. It was too hot to be outside. There was a single dog lying under a makeshift wooden porch that had been attached to a single-wide. He eyed me with disdain and growled. I waved at him and decided a dog was as good a sign as any in this kind of place. I walked across the dirt path and stepped onto the wooden porch. The dog bristled again but didn’t show himself. Too hot, I figured.

Just before I knocked on the door, I heard a door close to my right. A young girl stepped from the trailer and out into the muddy road. She shaded her eyes from the sun and looked around.

When she saw me, her face changed. She smiled.

I smiled too. Here was a friendly face after all.

“Virginia Thrash,” I said.

“Mr. Earl!”

She ran over to me, and I stepped off the porch to meet her. She gave me a huge hug, and I hugged her back. It hadn’t even been a year since I’d seen her last, but it felt much longer than that. When we broke the embrace, I stepped back to get a look at her. In just a few months, she’d changed a lot. She looked less like a child and more like a teenager. She also seemed more confident, less sad than she had before, and that made me feel good. I wanted to believe what I’d done for her had played some part in her improvement, but I was wise enough to realize she was a special kid, resilient and strong in ways I’d never be able to truly comprehend.

“Do you live here?” I asked her.

She nodded. “Yeah. For about the last few weeks.”

“What about Roscoe?”

Roscoe was her little brother. They were Ronnie’s niece and nephew, and they’d had a hard time because their mother had been addicted to drugs. I’d helped get them into foster care, but something told me—based on the condition of this trailer park—that they might be back with their mom, which was probably not a positive development.

“Roscoe is with me. He’s inside taking a nap. It’s too hot to do anything else.”

“And your mother?”

Virginia looked sad. It was her old face, the one she’d worn last fall when she’d told me how she’d witnessed lights in the cornfield, which had turned out to be Old Nathaniel and Jeb Walsh’s camera crew trying to capture his violent acts for a snuff film. Yeah, she’d had a tough go of it for sure, but there was something noble about her, something transcendent, almost. Whatever it was made me believe she was going to make it. That she wasn’t just going to make it, she was going to excel.

“She’s inside. She’s doing better.”

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

“Define better.”

“She has good days and bad days.”

“What happened to the foster family?”

Virginia shook her head. “It didn’t work out.”

“What happened?” I felt terrible. Had I somehow managed to make her situation worse?

“It’s not like that,” she said. “I wanted to come back. Mama needed me.”

“But you don’t need her,” I said.

She smiled brightly. “I’ll be fine.”

“What about Roscoe?”

“He’s doing well. I’m taking care of him and Mama.”

I shook my head, dismayed and impressed at the same time. Just when you start to lose faith in human beings, someone like Virginia comes along and reminds you of the possibilities of love and sacrifice, of commitment and personal determination. I was in awe.

And now I needed her to help me, too.

“Could I ask a favor?” I said.

*   *   *

Roscoe wandered out of the back while I was dialing Ronnie’s number. He saw me and started giggling and pointing. Virginia went over to him and picked him up, his curly black hair flopping as she lifted him into the air. She brought him over, and I offered my fist for a fist bump. He grabbed it with both hands and hung on. My heart swelled and I put the phone down on the table.

“Come here, big boy.”

Virginia handed him to me, and he said, “Earl!” Damned if that didn’t make me feel like there was something to live for. Damned if it somehow also didn’t make me think of Mary. I squeezed him tightly and tried hard not to cry, but the tears came anyway.

Roscoe giggled at first, like he thought I might be pretending, playing a game, but when the deep sobs came in and racked me, he fell silent. Virginia came over and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry about that,” I said, trying to suck the sobs back, but Virginia made a hushing sound and patted my shoulder again.

“Earl sad,” Roscoe said.

I laughed. And cried. I did them both at the same time. It was the most alive I’d felt in a long time.

*   *   *

Ronnie picked up on the second ring. “What’s up, Virginia?”

“It’s Earl.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“What?”

“Where are you?”

“What?”

I sighed. “I made it across the gorge, found a cave and went through the mountain. I found this trailer park and ran into your niece. You knew she was out of foster care?”

“I just found out myself, Earl. Remember, I was in jail?”

“Right. Sorry about that.”

“Fuck the apologies. I’m just glad you’re alive. I’ve been calling and calling your phone. And don’t worry, I fed Goose.”

“Thanks. How did you get out?”

“Just what you said to do. I laid low by the gate and waited until Mindy was on her way out. Hell, she even gave me a lift. She’s really cool …”

“Isn’t she a bit young for you?”

“Look who’s talking. How old was Mary?”

“Thirty-eight.”

“And how old are you?”

“It’s different.”

“She’s actually only ten years younger than me.”

I realized I didn’t exactly know how old Ronnie was. I’d assumed he was in his late thirties. Maybe I was wrong.

“Okay. So, did you find out what’s going on out there?”

“I found out a lot. But I need you to come pick me up.”

“I got the boys coming over in an hour to finish the studio.”

“Cancel it. When this is over, I’ll help you build it myself.”

“Well, shit, Earl, I’d like that very much. Maybe you could be our manager.”

“Maybe,” I said, but I didn’t really see that happening. I honestly didn’t know what I’d do when I found Rufus and got to the bottom of Weston’s and Joe’s deaths.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Ronnie said.

“Great. Meet me at Virginia’s trailer. And Ronnie, could you bring me some lunch?”

“Big Mac or quarter-pounder with cheese?”

“Both.”

“Jesus.”

“Just hurry.”

“Will do, and Earl?”

“What?”

“Looooose!”

I laughed and hung up the phone. Roscoe was sitting on the couch staring at me. “Earl happy?” he said.

“Yeah,” I told him. “Earl happy.” At least for the moment, I mentally added, and then walked over and sat down beside him, tousling his curly dark hair.