Lawrence popped the trunk and grabbed his overnight bag. “Where am I staying?”
“You’re bunking in with me,” I said. I had the screen door open for Lawrence when I saw Lana Gantry pop her head out of cabin 1.
“Hey, Zack,” she said. “Got a minute?”
“I’ll be back,” I whispered to Lawrence. I reached for Colebert’s backpack. “I’ll drop that off for you, too.” As I walked over, I said, all innocent, “How are you, Lana?”
“Your dad and I wondered if you’d have a moment, in a little bit, to talk about some things.”
“Sure, that would be great.” My mouth felt dry again. “When were you thinking?”
“We’re just waiting till Orville gets here.”
“Oh,” I said. “Great.”
“I just got off the phone with him. He figures half an hour, maybe an hour, before he can get here.”
Super, I thought. A big family get-together.
“Okay,” I said. I handed the backpack to her. “Could you give this to Dad? It was Leonard Colebert’s. I think Dad’s arranging for Leonard’s family to come up here and get his things.”
“Yeah, they’ve been in touch. I think they’re coming up tomorrow afternoon.”
I nodded, smiled, backed away and returned to cabin 3. Lawrence had found his bed and was taking out some shirts from his bag, carefully refolding them, smoothing the creases, and slipping them into the empty dresser.
“Nothing like roughing it,” I said.
“What’s up?”
“Cards-on-the-table time, I think.”
“Better you than me. If my dad knocked up anybody other than my mom, I never knew about it, and don’t figure I ever will now. Which is just fine.”
“Thanks, Lawrence. That’s just-”
There was a bang at the door. I stepped out of the bedroom and saw, through the screen, that the neighbors had come to visit.
Wendell and Dougie.
Wendell said, “Where’s the colored guy?”
I pushed open the screen. “Hi, fellas,” I said. “Can I help you with something?”
Wendell said, “I just told you, we want to see the colored guy. The one who gave Jeffrey those toys.”
Lawrence emerged from the bedroom and came up alongside me at the door. “Are these gentlemen the neighbors you’ve been telling me about, Zack?”
“Yeah,” I said, easing the door open farther so the two of us could step outside. “This is Dougie, and this here is Wendell.”
Lawrence nodded, but did not offer a hand. “My name is Lawrence Jones,” he said.
“Yeah, well,” said Dougie, “don’t be giving no stuff to Jeffrey.”
Coming down the lane were Jeffrey, running, and trailing behind, his mother, May. She looked stricken.
“It was a couple of Star Wars figures,” Lawrence said. “Jeffrey had mentioned he was looking for those ones, and I found them in a comics store. Just thought he might like them. No obligation. And no disrespect intended.”
Jeffrey, barely out of breath even though he’d run the whole way, said, “Come on, guys, let me keep them.”
Wendell said, “Jeffrey, you know what your grandpa said. You’re not having those things.”
Jeffrey’s eyes were red, and it was clear he’d been crying. “What does it matter?”
But now Wendell was talking to Lawrence, and had taken a step closer to him. “We don’t like strangers interfering. You understand?”
“I’m getting the picture.”
“Everybody here lately is interfering in our affairs. So just butt the fuck out,” Wendell said. “Dougie, give the man back his little toys.”
Dougie frowned. “Shit. I forgot them. I thought you were bringing them.”
“They were right on the kitchen table, you dumb-ass,” Wendell said.
“I’m sorry, I just thought you had them.”
Now that he knew the toys were still back in the house, Jeffrey looked like he was getting ready to turn and sprint back toward the farmhouse before Wendell and Dougie could get there.
“Don’t you be hiding those things, you little fucker,” Wendell told Jeffrey.
“Don’t call him that,” Lawrence said.
“Huh?” Wendell looked stunned.
“Don’t call Jeffrey names like that. He deserves as much respect as either one of you fellows.” Lawrence paused. “Probably more.”
Jeffrey watched.
Wendell started to laugh. “You hear that, Dougie? Now he’s telling us what we can and cannot call members of our own family?”
May had arrived. She looked at me first, shook her head in frustration. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “Leave these people alone,” she told the two young men. She placed her hands on her son’s shoulders. “You go back to the house,” she said.
He twisted away. “In a minute,” he said.
“We’re kind of in the middle of something here, May,” Dougie said, grinning.
“Yeah,” said Wendell. “This boy here,” and he tapped Lawrence’s chest with his index finger, “is giving us a bit of atti-”
Lawrence’s arm came up and he took hold of Wendell’s finger, and in a move that Lawrence made look effortless, had Wendell twisting backwards and sideways, and then heading straight to the ground.
“Owwww!” Wendell said. “Jesus! You’re breaking my fucking finger!”
Dougie stood, openmouthed, watching the attack on his brother unfold. May took a step back, but Jeffrey stood transfixed.
In a second, Wendell was flat on his back, wailing about his finger, and then Lawrence had his foot on the man’s neck.
“Apologize to the boy,” Lawrence said. He wasn’t even winded. I, however, was breathing rapidly.
Wendell coughed, tried to catch his breath.
“I asked you to do something,” Lawrence said.
“Get your foot off my neck, man! Jesus, Dougie, do something!”
Dougie rushed Lawrence. The detective took his foot off Wendell’s neck long enough to use Dougie’s forward momentum against him, stepping into his stride and tossing him over his hip. Dougie hit the ground with a thud, and as Wendell turned his head to see where he’d landed, he found Lawrence’s foot bearing down on his neck again.
Lawrence increased the pressure on Wendell’s neck, ever so slightly. “Apologize to the boy.”
Wendell coughed. “I’m sorry, Jeffrey.”
The boy turned and ran.
Dougie was struggling to his feet, dusting himself off. Lawrence took his foot off Wendell and stepped back. Wendell sat up, rubbed his neck with his hand, and slowly got to his feet.
“Get lost,” Lawrence said.
They both turned and started shuffling back toward their farmhouse. May looked at us, shocked, but for a second, I thought I saw her dead eyes sparkle.
“I’m sorry about them,” she said. To Lawrence, she said, “Thank you for standing up for my son.” She turned and started back to the farmhouse.
“Well,” I said. “That was just great. Be interesting to see Timmy’s reaction. I’m guessing we’ve got about an hour left to live.”
27
LAWRENCE PATTED ME on the shoulder. “Everything’ll be fine,” he said. “You worry too much about things.”
“Oh,” I said. “You noticed. You think those bozos aren’t going to run right back and tell their step-daddy what happened? You think there won’t be some fallout from that?”
Another pat. “Maybe. Maybe not. And if there is, maybe that’ll be a good thing. It’s like shaking the trees.”
I was less sure. I was okay with doing things to the Wickenses that they didn’t find out about, but beating the snot out of two of them, that was kind of out in the open.
Lana popped her head out of cabin 1 again. “Zack? You wanna come over? Orville just called and said he’ll be out in a few minutes.”
Lawrence said quietly, “You go have fun. It’s still a few hours till it’s dark, can’t start watching the Wickens place till then anyway.”
So I went over to Dad’s cabin, Lana Gantry still holding the door open for me, and stepped inside. Dad was at the kitchen table, Leonard’s backpack in front of him.