Just before sunset a white mist hung over the roofs of Twisted Creek. The pale light from the setting sun pierced through the mist, brushing the buildings with a metallic glow.
Maggie, driving the old Cadillac on the last lap of the return trip from Melville, stared with fascination at the cluster of buildings beyond the long meadows. She turned to Marian Carpenter.
“Twisted Creek looks unreal, doesn’t it? All clean and silvery. Pretty enough for a picture postcard.”
“It is unreal,” Marian said. “Our silver village looks pretty, all right, until you’ve lived there for a while. Then all the inconveniences begin to show.”
“Like today.”
“Like today,” Mrs. Carpenter answered wearily. “Nicky’s going to be all right. But it was a tricky manipulation. She’s lucky there’s no nerve damage with all the bumping we put her through.”
“I know,” Maggie said. “I knew what to expect, all right, but the road seemed worse the second time.” She drove silently for a bit, listening to the swishing, whirring sound of the tires on the asphalt. It seemed to be the only sound in the world except for the noise of uncomfortable thoughts that were hammering away in her mind. Finally, she said, “Boy, have I learned how spoiled I’ve been.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was thinking about hospitals. At home they’re big and close by, and full of specialists. Poor Nicky.”
“Well,” Mrs. Carpenter said, “at least this wasn’t a matter of life and death. But I am glad that her parents are bringing her home. Even sedated, she’ll be a handful.” She rotated her shoulders and rubbed her arms. “I don’t know about you, Maggie, but when I get home, I’m going to soak in a hot bath for a couple of hours.”
“Sounds good to me, too. After I get the car to Mr. Bremmer, of course. Oh, holy cow! He’ll have a spasm if he sees it so dirty.”
“Well, then, we’ll just have to wash it,” Marian Carpenter said. “Let’s hope Spence is home. He can give us a hand.”
The grassy meadows slipped by on either side of them as the car gained speed on the flat road. Ahead of them the mists above Twisted Creek dissolved as a warm breeze sprang up. The village lost its silvery cast. The church steeple was again a sooty white—the wooden roofs, a weather-beaten gray.
Home for the Carpenters was a cottage next to the clinic. When Maggie pulled the big car in front of the house, it was twilight. Spence jumped up from the front porch steps where he had been sitting and raced to the curb.
“Am I ever glad you two are back,” he said, pulling open the car door. “Half the town’s saying Maggie stole Bremmer’s car and the other half says he lent it to her. Nobody believes either story. But they saw Maggie driving it. What happened? Are you guys all right?”
“Spencer Carpenter!” his mother said with a smile. “That’s the longest speech I’ve ever heard you make. The truth is Mr. Bremmer lent his car to me and I couldn’t drive the darned thing, so Maggie came to the rescue. I suppose Dr. Aiken told you about Nicky.”
“Yeah. Good thing she’s all right.”
“Did he say anything about Gloria Desantis?”
“Everything’s okay. The baby must’ve given him some trouble because he was there a long time.” Spence shook his head. “Boy, am I glad you two are back.”
“Not as glad as we are. Right, Maggie?”
Maggie nodded wearily from behind the wheel. She had just discovered how really tired she was. “I’ll feel better after the car’s washed and back at Mr. Bremmer’s,” she said and wondered where she’d find the energy.
“I know, honey,” Mrs. Carpenter said. “I feel that way, too. But you’ve done enough for one day. Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”
Maggie looked longingly at The Bluebird that was waiting where she had left it that morning, but shook her head. “Not till I return this Caddy to Mr. Bremmer. Besides, I got to rest while I waited for you at the hospital.” She started to get out of the car.
“Hold it,” Spence said. “If you’ll pull the car closer to the house, I’ll wash it for you.”
“Hey, thanks.” From out of nowhere, the thought of his warm hand holding hers slipped into her mind, “No,” she said, “it’s big as a building. I’d better help.”
While Mrs. Carpenter returned the blankets and pillows to the clinic next door, Maggie and Spence tackled the car. Spence went into the house and returned with whisk brooms and rags. With the help of a pair of flashlights, they brushed the upholstery, swept the floor, and polished the dashboard. When they were ready to begin the washing, Spence appeared with a pair of boots.
“Here,” he said. “Your shoes won’t take all the water we’re going to use. Better wear these.”
When they were done, Maggie sat on the steps and changed into her own shoes. “Br-r-r,” she said, shivering. “My fingers are stiff. That water was cold.”
Behind her at the door Mrs. Carpenter said, “Come wrap your cold hands around a mug of hot cocoa, Maggie. I’ve made a few sandwiches, too. That will have to do for supper.”
They were almost through their meal when Mrs. Carpenter said, “They tell me at the clinic that Mr. Bremmer’s been keeping the phone hot. He’s in a stew about his car. Wants to know if there’s something wrong with it.”
Maggie jumped up and Mrs. Carpenter said, “I guess it’s time to return it, but you’re not going there alone. We’ll face the old bear together.”
“I’ll go with Maggie,” Spence said. “I’ll follow her in your car. She’s got to have a way back.”
“Well, all right,” his mother said with a long sigh. “But don’t let that old crank badger you.”
“He’s not all that bad,” Maggie said, and Spence shot her a quizzical look.
“I hope you’re right,” he said. “We need him.”
“For what?” Maggie asked, surprised.
“For the town meeting Saturday night, the one you kids arranged,” Mrs. Carpenter said with a glance at her son. “Oh, she might as well know, Spence. Everyone will tomorrow.”
“Sure. Okay,” Spence said, but Maggie thought he looked uncomfortable.
Mrs. Carpenter walked them to the car. “Thanks again, Maggie,” she said, giving her a hug. “Remember, I owe you one, a big one.”
Turning into the entrance to Silvergate, she drove slowly up the drive and came to a careful stop by the front door. She turned off the headlights. Behind her, Spence did, too. A dark shadow moved close the house. As it came closer, a circle of light appeared on the ground beside it.
“Well,” Mr. Bremmer said, “it’s about time.” He took a step forward. “So, Mrs. Carpenter, I see that you’ve—” He stopped. “Mrs. Carpenter?” he asked and pointed his flashlight at Maggie. “Dear God, it’s true!” he said, his voice rising angrily. “Young lady, what are you doing in my car?”
“Returning it to you,” Maggie said. “And please take that light off my face!” Mr. Bremmer turned away, swinging the light over the car. Maggie jumped out. “We just finished washing it for you,” she said.
Spence was at her side. “Maggie didn’t hurt your car, sir. She drove it as a favor to my mother. And she didn’t do it for fun. Driving it down to Melville on that … that awful road isn’t a joy ride, anybody knows that. But Maggie got Nicky and your car down there in one piece.”
Mr. Bremmer muttered something and continued circling the automobile. “I don’t like this,” he said, shaking his head. “No, I don’t like this at all. It was your mother to whom I lent this car, young man.”
Maggie was filled with confusing feelings. First, she was scared. But why? She hadn’t done anything wrong. And then, when she looked at Spence, she was proud and … glad.
Spence followed Mr. Bremmer to the other side of the car. “I know it was my mother,” he said. “Mom thought your car had automatic transmission. Anybody would. After all, I read that it was Cadillac that started automatics with something called hydromatic.”
Mr. Bremmer ran his hand over the long black hood. “This automobile was built to my specifications. Automatic, bah! Anyone with good sense wants to be in control of his car.” He peered across the hood at Maggie. “Well, Margaret, so you drove my car down the …” He coughed. “ … all the way to Melville,” he amended.
“Yes,” Maggie said. “Nicky was in such pain and Mrs. Carpenter didn’t realize that she couldn’t—”
“Yes, yes,” Mr. Bremmer interrupted. “But what do you think of this excellent machine?”
Maggie wondered what to answer. “It has lots of power,” she said and thought, but it’s like driving a two-ton truck. My arms will never be the same.
“Plenty of horses,” Mr. Bremmer said, nodding, “plenty of horses. And you were able to handle it all right?”
“Oh, yes. It took some getting used to, though.”
“You didn’t fall into any potholes, did you?” he asked. “The car didn’t get jolted, did it?”
Maggie opened her mouth to reassure him, but something else spilled out. “Of course, I fell into potholes! That road is full of them. No, Mr. Bremmer, your car didn’t suffer, but Nicky sure did. Seems to me you ought to be more concerned about her than a … a … a lousy piece of metal!” Mr. Bremmer stood still as a statue on the other side of the wide hood. Now I’ve done it, Maggie thought.
“I don’t like that.” The old man’s voice quavered. “I don’t like what you just said.”
“I’m sorry,” Maggie said, her eyes filling with angry tears. “But don’t you realize how bad that road is? Yes, of course you do. I heard you tell Dr. Aiken this morning. I know some of it is yours and you don’t have to do anything about it, but how can you live with yourself when people can get killed on it? And that isn’t all. Why aren’t there more telephones? And cable. People absolutely need cable for TV and for the Internet. What have you done to stop all that? People need those things. I’ll bet you’ve never ever been without a telephone. And while I’m thinking of it, what’s wrong with new movies? Mr. Bremmer, why don’t you just do what’s right? Not try to control everything the way you want to control your car. What are you afraid of? That Twisted Creek will get contaminated by the rest of the world? Well, in case you didn’t know it, Mr. Bremmer, there are a lot of good things down there in the rest of the world!” She dug deep into her pockets, pulled out a tissue, and swiped at her eyes.
At that instant, a rectangle of light fell at Maggie’s feet as the door of the house was thrown open. She whirled around. Gertrude and Gretchen stood in the doorway.
“Good evening, Maggie,” Gretchen said. “Dear girl, what a trying day for you. Dr. Aiken just called and told us all about how you stepped right in to help. And I heard you say you even washed the car. What a kind, thoughtful thing for you—”
“Sister,” Gertrude said. “You have a message for Brother, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes,” Gretchen said. “Brother, where are you? Dr. Aiken says you are not to harangue this young lady. He says that not only will it be entirely unfair and unkind, but it will raise your blood pressure.”
“Sister!” Gertrude snapped. “Is that really what he said?”
“More or less,” Gretchen answered. “Brother, see you mind the doctor.”
“I am not haranguing her,” Mr. Bremmer said peevishly. “I don’t understand why you would think so.” He walked around the front of the car. “I’d like my keys,” he said to Maggie.
Spence said, “Hey, Mr. Bremmer. Maybe you ought to thank Maggie for taking such good care of your car. I don’t think my mom could’ve done that well.”
Mr. Bremmer said nothing. He held out his hand.
Maggie handed the keys to him and said, “You’re probably mad at me, but I don’t care. I meant what I said.” She turned to Spence. “We’d better go now.”
“Sure,” Spence said. As they got into his mother’s car, he muttered, “The sooner, the better.”
When Spence pulled the car in front of his house, neither one of them made a move to get out. Maggie stared out of the windshield while a collection of uncomfortable thoughts paraded across her mind. Spence threw her a sidelong glance or two. Finally, he said, “You were great up there. I’ve never seen old man Bremmer so shaken.”
“He was mad. Oh, Spence, maybe he’ll have a stroke or something.”
“If he does, it’s his own fault for being such a Class A jerk. He didn’t even appreciate that we’d washed his car.”
She nodded, staring at the star-cluttered sky, too tired for more words. When she finally spoke, she said, “Another thing’s worrying me. You guys need him and now I’ve made him really mad.”
“So? Maybe he’ll cool down in time for the meeting Saturday.”
“It’s this Saturday?” Maggie asked. “The twentieth?” Mimi’s contest was this Saturday.
“Yes. You’ll come, won’t you?”
She sighed. Seeing Mimi and Dale dance would have to wait. “Yes,” she said. “But you’d better hide me somewhere. If he sees me, Mr. Bremmer will turn around and go home.”
“Won’t matter,” Spence said.
“Well, I hope so.” She glanced at him quickly. He was looking straight ahead. A mutinous lock of hair fell over his forehead, and he brushed it away impatiently. She said, “Thanks for everything,” and fumbled for the door handle.
“Here, let me get it,” Spence said and leaned across her. He released the door lock and straightened up.
Maggie felt a strong urge to turn and look at him again, but she was afraid that if she did she’d find him looking at her, too. A shaky little pulsing started in her throat and, for no reason at all, her face was hot. She was sure that Spence was looking at her, reading her thoughts. She sat very still. And then his face was close to hers, and she knew that if she moved hers just a little …
Maybe she did. Or maybe he did. But his mouth was on hers, kissing her lightly and then more firmly until she was lost in feelings. Warm, glad feelings that said she had been wanting Spence to kiss her for a long time.
One hour later Maggie was at home and in bed. She had told Amparo all about the trip and the confrontation with Mr. Bremmer.
“That is good,” Amparo said, giving her a hug. “What you did is good. My father says that is what that old … bueno, I won’t tell you what he calls him … needs. My father guards the mine not for Mr. Bremmer’s sake, but because he claims there is much silver left in it. He prays every night that they will start working it again.” She shook her head. “Here I am talking on and on when what you need is a hot bath and bed.”
“If I can make it up the stairs,” Maggie had said with a tired little grin.
Later, in bed, each time she thought of Spence a happy glow filled her. Then her mood changed. Instead of falling asleep, she lay staring at the rectangle of gray in the dark wall that was the window. It had been a long day. It had been an unbelievably tiring day, but she could not sleep. It’s because my grandfather isn’t here, she thought. It’s lonely. The night’s so silent. Not even the sound of a distant car, or footsteps outside, or a far-off bit of music like in the city. She lay still, listening to the in and out of her breathing. Then, outside in the nearby woods, she heard an owl call, a long melancholy cry that found an echo in her. She sat up.
Dad. That’s who I’m missing. Oh, Dad, I want so much to talk to you. I wish you could meet Spence. He’s such a nice guy. Quiet. And smart. You’d like him. You wouldn’t even mind my kissing him. Or would you? She smiled and slid back under the blankets. It was quite a day, Dad. Like no other day I’ve ever lived through. And, except maybe for what I said to Mr. Bremmer, I think you’d approve of the way I handled it. Good thing you showed me how to drive your pickup truck and that you taught me mountain driving. I guess you taught me lots of things. I guess they’re always going to come in handy. She punched her pillow and pulled the blankets more snugly over her shoulders.
In the woods the owl called again, and Maggie whispered, “Goodnight.”