The Porters arrived twenty minutes late, which for ex-hippies was pretty good. Out on the porch, Keith took a canvas bag of herbs from Gail, and Jeffrey carried a cardboard box filled with plastic containers. Gail said, I cooked everything. We wouldn't eat for hours otherwise. You only have to heat it.
I think I have a stove.
Inside, Gail said, What a charming house. You grew up here?
I was born and raised here. I haven't grown up yet.
She laughed, and Keith showed them into the kitchen. They put the food down, and Gail said, Curry In A Hurry.
Excuse me?
Jeffrey explained, In Antioch, they had this great little Indian carry-out place called Curry In A Hurry, and every time Gail doesn't want to cook now, she says, 'Call Curry In A Hurry.' But I don't think they'd deliver to Spencerville.
Worth a try. Hey, I'm sorry to put you out like this.
Gail replied, No problem. You owed us dinner, and we're glad to deliver it for you.
Jeffrey went back to the car for the wine. As Gail and Keith found pots and pans, she said, We brought jumper cables. Didn't you buy that car new?
There's nothing wrong with the car.
Oh. I thought—
I'll explain later.
Maybe I can guess. The fuzz is harassing you.
Keith began setting the table. You got it.
That's disgusting. You have to fight back, Keith.
It's a long story. If you brought enough wine, I'll tell you.
Okay.
Jeffrey returned with three bottles of red wine, and Keith opened one. He emptied a bottle into three big water glasses. The stemware is out being monogrammed. Cheers.
They drank, then sat at the kitchen table, where Gail had set out crackers and some sort of multicolored spread. Keith asked, What's this?
Vegetable pate.
Looks like Play-Doh. Tastes good.
They drank wine, ate, talked, but clearly there were some unanswered questions at the table. Gail related to Jeffrey what Keith said about the police, and Jeffrey remarked, You can't stay here trapped like an animal.
Gail inquired, When is the last time you've eaten?
Am I being a pig?
Keith, this is not like you, Jeffrey said. You can't let the police intimidate you.
It's a long story. Hey, how are the sales of True Confessions?
Incredible, Jeffrey replied. Sold five hundred copies already. They're being passed around, so we can assume a few thousand people have read it. That's a lot of people for a small county. I think we have this guy on the run. In fact, that's what I was going to tell you on the phone. Who do you think shows up at our door and asks to buy a copy? •
Keith sipped his wine. Who?
You have to guess.
Cliff Baxter.
Gail laughed. Close.
Come on, Jeffrey said, I told you it was an old friend of yours.
Annie Baxter.
Bingo! Can you believe that?
I can.
Gail said, That took some courage. She smiled at Keith. She looked good.
Good.
In fact, for a woman whose husband is being exposed as a blackmailer, graft-taker, and adulterer, she seemed pretty cooled-out. Almost cheerful.
Maybe she's got a boyfriend.
Gail observed, That could explain her mood.
Jeffrey said, We gave her the transcript for free, of course, and we invited her in. I was surprised she accepted. She had a cup of tea. It was nice talking to her again. We caught up on old times. He added, I told her you were back, and she said she'd run into you outside the post office.
Right.
Gail inquired, Did you feel a little thump-thump?
Sure.
Well; I wouldn't be surprised if she's on the market soon, Gail said. She added, You know, I felt a little bad. I mean, we never intended to cause problems for her at home, but I guess that was a natural result of what we had to do to get at him. But he brought it on himself.
I suppose. If you play, you pay.
Unless you have an understanding like Jeffrey and I do. No one can come between us with evidence of infidelity.
That's an interesting observation. But what if one of you fell deeply in love with a lover?
Well . . . Gail seemed actually uncomfortable, and obviously something like this had happened to one or the other or both, once, twice, or more times. Gail said, People fall in love across a room. It's actually less likely to happen with casual sex partners. She added, Love has less to do with sex than with missing a person when they're not around. Didn't you say your heart went thump when you saw Annie? I mean, after twenty-some years, there's still something there. How many women have you screwed since her?
Counting foreigners?
She laughed, then said, And why hasn't a good-looking man like you gotten married?
I should have called Curry In A Hurry.
Jeffrey smiled. Leave him alone, Gail. This subject obviously bothers him.
Right, Keith agreed. He asked, Are the Spencerville cops giving you guys any trouble?
Jeffrey shook his head. Not yet. I mean, Gail is a city coun-cilwoman. I think they're waiting until after the election. We'll see who's still standing then.
Keith looked at both of them. You ought to be careful in the meantime. Baxter is unstable.
Gail and Jeffrey glanced at each other, and Jeffrey said to Keith, We're watching ourselves.
Do you have a gun?
No, said Jeffrey. We're pacifists. We get shot at.
I have a rifle. Let me give it to you.
No, Jeffrey said. We won't use it.
You might if it was in the house, and someone—
No. Please respect that, Keith.
All right. But if you ever need help, give a holler.
Okay.
Jeffrey got up and stirred the two pots. Soup's ready.
They had the soup, then a vegetable curry, and were working on the last bottle of wine.
Keith made coffee, and Gail unveiled a carrot cake. Over cake and coffee, Jeffrey said, Hey, I almost forgot. He put his hand in his pocket and came out with a bank envelope. There's a thousand.
Thanks. Keith took a check from his wallet and gave it to Jeffrey, who glanced at it and said, This is for two thousand.
That's a contribution to the cause. I never gave money to pinkos before.
Gail smiled. We can't accept that, Keith.
Yeah, you can. I don't need the money, and I want to do something.
You can help us by joining us.
I could, and I would. But I'm leaving.
Neither of them spoke.
Keith said, Look, guys, I trust you, and I like you. Also, I may need your help. Ready for the long story?
They nodded.
Okay, I returned to Spencerville to go back to the starting line and see if I could run the race over again. Well, you can't do that. The race is over, but you can run a new race. Yeah, I'm beating around the bush. Okay, I'm in love with Annie, and—
Gail slapped the table. I knew it! See, Jeffrey, I told you.
I told you.
May I? This isn't easy. Anyway, we've been writing for twenty years—
I love this. Go on. Does she love you?
Jeffrey said, Gail, keep quiet.
So, anyway, yes, she does, and we're running off. End of story.
Like hell it is, said Gail. Have you done it yet?
That's not relevant . . . no, we haven't—
Liar. I knew it. See? That's why she was floating on clouds. She asked if we'd spoken to you in the last few days. This is terrific. That pig deserves what he gets. Oh, Keith, I'm so happy for you. She stood and kissed him, which he figured was coming, and Jeffrey followed suit with a handshake.
Keith felt a little impatient and said, Okay, so that answers a lot or questions for you, and I thought I owed you an explanation of why I couldn't commit to—
Hey, Jeffrey said, you're doing your part
by stealing his wife.
I'm not actually stealing—
I always knew you two would get back together, Jeffrey said. When are you leaving?
I can't say. But soon.
How can we help?
Well, for starters, don't say a thing over the phone if we speak. I'm concerned that your phone or mine could be tapped.
Yeah, they could be. What else?
Well, you brought the money, looks like enough food left for a few more days, and maybe Gail could keep her eyes and ears open around city hall.
I always do. And I have a cop who's a source.
Good. But don't trust him, either.
When it comes to revolution, we don't trust too many people.
Keith nodded. You know the game.
Jeffrey said, So you're laying low until you . . . do you call it elopement if she's married?
For want of a better word, yes. I'll give you a key to the house, and I'd like you to look after it.
No problem.
Gail asked, Where did you do it? How many times? How did you get away with it?
We're old pros from high school days. Keith changed the subject and said, Her husband is generally suspicious, and specifically pissed off at me for coming back here. He came out here last week, and we had some words. But he doesn't really know anything. He did give me a week to get out of town, and that time ends on Friday, but I won't be gone by then. He may come around again, and I'll ask for a few days' extension, because that's less complicated than killing him, which I promised not to do.
They seemed stunned by that remark, and Keith looked at them. This is serious business. Not a game. He's borderline psychotic. You watch yourselves. The offer of the gun stands.
They stayed silent awhile, then Jeffrey said, Hey, this is heavy stuff. Mind if I smoke?
Go right ahead.
Jeffrey took a pouch and papers out of his shirt pocket and rolled one. He lit it with a match and offered it to Keith, who declined, then to Gail, who also declined. He shrugged, sat back, and smoked.
Gail asked, Do you think Annie is safe?
I think so. But I'm getting these vibrations, if I can use that old word, and these vibrations tell me that people have picked up on something, sort of like they're intercepting these signals that go between this farm and Williams Street. Keith smiled. Blow that smoke away, Jeffrey. I'm sounding like you.
Gail said, No, I understand. I mean, even we figured something was up. Who else, besides Baxter?
Oh, just people. Pastors, and somebody's sister, and nice elderly ladies. I'm probably paranoid, but I'm concerned that Baxter's going to get onto something concrete. I have to ask you guys not to say or do anything that could arouse suspicion. Lay low yourselves until the weekend. Okay?
Done.
If the plan falls apart, I may need you.
We're here.
I appreciate it. Hey, Jeffrey, who would have thought we'd be having dinner together again?
Jeffrey took a toke and looked at him. Time has healed a lot of those wounds, Keith. I'm glad we lived long enough to get smart.
Gail said, If this is a prelude to male bonding, I'll go out on the porch.
Jeffrey said to Keith, She feels threatened. That's why you need a woman, Keith, to balance out the dynamics of our interlocking relationships, and . . . whatever. Hey, where are you two going to go? Can we join you for dinner someplace?
Sure. I'll let you know.
Gail said, We're going to miss you, Keith. We don't have many friends here.
Maybe you will after you get rid of Police Chief Baxter.
I don't think so. But perhaps. Will you come back here someday?
I'd like to. Depends on what happens with Baxter.
Yeah, Jeffrey agreed, I wouldn't advise you to look for a house on Williams Street for a while. He laughed. Hey, I'd love to see his fucking face when he comes home and finds a fuck-you note on the refrigerator. Jeffrey got the giggles and slapped the table a few times.
Keith stood. Let's sit on the porch. The maid will clear.
They sat on the porch and watched the sun go down. No one spoke for a long time, then Gail said, What an amazing thing, Keith.
What?
Love. I mean, through college, and turmoil, and war, and decades, and distance, and everything that life throws at you. If I were sentimental, I'd cry.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
On Thursday morning, Keith woke up not feeling particularly well and didn't know why. By stages, he remembered the Porters being over for dinner, then recalled breaking out the hard liquor and realized why he had a headache and recalled what they had been celebrating.
He got out of bed and opened the window, feeling the cool air rush in. It looked like another sunny day, a good day for the corn, but they could use one more good rain before the harvest.
He walked down the hall in his underwear toward the bathroom and bumped into Jeffrey, also in his underwear. Jeffrey said, I'm not well.
You slept here?
No, I came back in my underwear to get the Tupperware containers.
Where's Gail?
She went to get us breakfast. You want to use the bathroom?
No, go ahead. Keith got his robe and went down the stairs into the kitchen. He washed his face in the sink, found aspirin in the cupboard and took two, then put on a pot of coffee.
A car pulled around to the back door, and Gail came in, carrying a grocery bag. How are you feeling?
Okay. He sat at the kitchen table, and Gail unpacked a bottle of orange juice and three corn muffins.
She said, A police car followed me from here all the way to town.
Keith nodded. He said, Now they know there's a connection between us. You're on the list.
Hey, I was on the list before you got here. She sat down and poured a glass of juice for each of them.
Keith sipped his juice. He asked, Did they pull you over?
No, I pulled them over. I got out of my car, identified myself as a councilwoman, and told them to fuck off or I'd have their badges.
You've become very establishment, Gail. You're supposed to scream about your civil rights.
They wouldn't know what the hell I was talking about. The only thing that scares them is the thought of losing their guns and their badges.
Yeah, these cops turned bad. They have a bad boss.
She stayed quiet a minute, then asked him, Were you serious about killing Baxter?
No.
She looked at him awhile, then said, I was scared out there on the highway.
I know. I'd like to take care of the problem before I leave, but I promised I wouldn't.
I understand. Can I ask you . . . have you ever done that? I mean, I guess in Vietnam . . .
Keith didn't reply, but he thought about her question. Yes, he'd killed in Vietnam, but that was in combat. In his early years in intelligence work, he'd literally had a license to kill, but before they'd given him his gun and silencer, they'd given him the rules: There were only two absolute times for killing—in combat and in self-defense. But everyone in America had the same right. His license, however, extended into murkier areas, such as a preemptive kill, if you felt threatened. And it got even murkier than that, like the right to kill in order to remove a great evil, whatever that was. Keith thought that Cliff Baxter was a great evil, for instance, but Mr. Baxter's parents and children might not agree. It was sort of a case-by-case thing, and Keith never had to make the decision by himself, and neither did he have to be the gunman if he had a problem with the committee decision. Here in Spencerville, however, far removed from any restraints or advice, he was on his own.
She said, Have you thought about the fact that you'll never be really safe as long as he's around?
I don't think Cliff Baxter's balls travel well. We'll stay away from his turf.
Did you ever think he might take out his rage on . . . well, let's say Annie's family?
What are you suggesting, Gail? I thought you were a pa
cifist.
Jeffrey is a pacifist. If someone threatened my life, or the lives of my family or friends, I'd kill them.
With what? A carrot?
Be serious. Listen, I feel threatened, and I obviously can't go to the police. I'll take that rifle.
Okay. I'll get it. He stood, but Jeffrey came down the stairs.
Gail said to Keith, We'll put it in my trunk later.
Jeffrey came into the kitchen. Put what in the trunk?
Gail replied, The Tupperware.
Right. He sat down, and they had breakfast.
Jeffrey said, Hell of a party last night. Glad we could finally celebrate the Landry-Prentis engagement announcement.
Keith asked, Did you ever wonder what our lives would have been like without the war and the turmoil?
Yeah, I thought about that. Dull, I think. Like now. I think we had a unique experience. Yeah, a lot of people got hurt and fucked-up, but most of us came through it okay. We're better people because of it. He added, My students were totally boring, self-centered, selfish, irresolute, and without character. Christ, you'd think they were Republicans, but they thought they were rebels. Right. Rebels without a clue.
Gail said, You got him started.
Keith said to Jeffrey, You remember Billy Marlon?
Sure. Goofy kid. An obsessive pleaser, wanted to be everyone's best friend. In fact, I ran into him a few times. I wanted to be nice, for old time's sake, but he's a burnout.
I ran into him at John's Place.
Christ, Landry, I wouldn't take a piss in that place. :
I was feeling nostalgic one night.
Go to the sock hop. Why'd you ask about him?
Well, sometimes when I see a guy like that, I say to myself, 'There but for the grace of God go I.'
Gail commented, If God's grace existed, there wouldn't be people like that for you to say, 'There but for the grace of God.'
Jeffrey said, You got her started. I understand what you're saying, Keith, but I think the Billy Marions of the world would have gotten fucked-up in any decade. That's not us.