without discussion, without a plan. Deer footsteps whispered in the darkness on either side of their path. Pella wondered for a minute if she shouldn’t have come alone. Too late. They stepped up onto the porch and Clement knocked on the door. Pella drew in her breath.
The door opened, but it wasn’t Diana Eastling who opened it. Efram Nugent stood with one hand on his hip, his big shoulders filling the doorway.
“Hello,” he said.
“We were looking for Diana Eastling,” said Clement uncertainly.
“You’re Clement Marsh?”
“Yes.”
“Efram Nugent. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He stuck out his hand, and Clement took it. “Diana’s headed out south of here for a few days.
In the field
is how she’d say it. She asked me to keep an eye on her place.”
“Ah.”
“Why don’t you come in?”
Clement looked at Pella and shrugged. “Sure.”
Pella followed her father inside, crushed. Why wasn’t the house dark? How could they have happened to find Efram here? This was worse than merely not getting what she wanted. It seemed in some way the exact reverse.
Diana Eastling’s house was discouraging. It was so underfurnished and perfunctory that she might have only just moved in. Cardboard boxes were stacked against two walls of the front room and under the dining table. It looked to Pella as if Diana Eastling lived elsewhere, and kept this house for storage or camouflage.
And Efram moved through it as casually as if he owned it. They had entered his space. Possibly any space he inhabited was his, the way he moved his shoulders to carve the air. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you, Marsh,” he said. “We keep missing each other.”
“We do? I hadn’t noticed.” Clement grinned, meaning it to be funny.
“Pella didn’t tell you I came around?” Efram pointed at her, as if she were off somewhere in the distance.
“No, actually,” said Clement. “Maybe she forgot.”
“Maybe,” said Efram, raising his eyebrows at Pella significantly.
Pella turned and looked out the window, back across the porch at the jagged black landscape they’d crossed coming here. The sky was dark now, too, the sun finished.
The lit house had been a trap for them, a trap she led Clement into.
“Here.” Efram pulled out chairs for them, as though they all belonged there in Diana Eastling’s house. Clement sat, but Pella took the long way around the table, pausing to examine Diana’s desk, which was loaded with disordered papers, stopping to peek into the unlit kitchen. She imagined briefly that Efram waslying to them, and Diana was in the house somewhere, hiding, listening. She wished it were true.
There were no household deer visible, anywhere. Pella went and sat down at the table, as far from both Efram and Clement as possible.
Efram exhibited his uneven smile. “People have been trying to get it through my thick skull that your coming here means something, that it’s some kind of defining moment around here.” He tipped back in his chair and swung his legs up onto the table, then took a pipe and a lighter out of his pocket. Pella stared. Efram not only put his feet on Diana Eastling’s table, he smoked in her house. She wished he would burn it down, so she and Clement could flee. “I’ve been laughing it off,” Efram continued, “but now it occurs to me they may be right.”
Clement shook his head. “I’m just one man and his family, here to start over, Mr. Nugent. We may be part of a trend, but we’re only part of it.” Clement’s voice was testy, brittle.
“Call me Efram. And let me finish. I was going to say maybe we need a defining moment. This is going to be a town, maybe a big town. That’s okay with me.” He lit his pipe and puffed out white, aromatic smoke. “And you’re a politician,” he added. “You want to be involved. That’s okay too.”
“I’ve worked as a politician. Now I’m working as a homesteader. I’m beginning to wonder what it is that’s
not
okay
The door opened, but it wasn’t Diana Eastling who opened it. Efram Nugent stood with one hand on his hip, his big shoulders filling the doorway.
“Hello,” he said.
“We were looking for Diana Eastling,” said Clement uncertainly.
“You’re Clement Marsh?”
“Yes.”
“Efram Nugent. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He stuck out his hand, and Clement took it. “Diana’s headed out south of here for a few days.
In the field
is how she’d say it. She asked me to keep an eye on her place.”
“Ah.”
“Why don’t you come in?”
Clement looked at Pella and shrugged. “Sure.”
Pella followed her father inside, crushed. Why wasn’t the house dark? How could they have happened to find Efram here? This was worse than merely not getting what she wanted. It seemed in some way the exact reverse.
Diana Eastling’s house was discouraging. It was so underfurnished and perfunctory that she might have only just moved in. Cardboard boxes were stacked against two walls of the front room and under the dining table. It looked to Pella as if Diana Eastling lived elsewhere, and kept this house for storage or camouflage.
And Efram moved through it as casually as if he owned it. They had entered his space. Possibly any space he inhabited was his, the way he moved his shoulders to carve the air. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you, Marsh,” he said. “We keep missing each other.”
“We do? I hadn’t noticed.” Clement grinned, meaning it to be funny.
“Pella didn’t tell you I came around?” Efram pointed at her, as if she were off somewhere in the distance.
“No, actually,” said Clement. “Maybe she forgot.”
“Maybe,” said Efram, raising his eyebrows at Pella significantly.
Pella turned and looked out the window, back across the porch at the jagged black landscape they’d crossed coming here. The sky was dark now, too, the sun finished.
The lit house had been a trap for them, a trap she led Clement into.
“Here.” Efram pulled out chairs for them, as though they all belonged there in Diana Eastling’s house. Clement sat, but Pella took the long way around the table, pausing to examine Diana’s desk, which was loaded with disordered papers, stopping to peek into the unlit kitchen. She imagined briefly that Efram waslying to them, and Diana was in the house somewhere, hiding, listening. She wished it were true.
There were no household deer visible, anywhere. Pella went and sat down at the table, as far from both Efram and Clement as possible.
Efram exhibited his uneven smile. “People have been trying to get it through my thick skull that your coming here means something, that it’s some kind of defining moment around here.” He tipped back in his chair and swung his legs up onto the table, then took a pipe and a lighter out of his pocket. Pella stared. Efram not only put his feet on Diana Eastling’s table, he smoked in her house. She wished he would burn it down, so she and Clement could flee. “I’ve been laughing it off,” Efram continued, “but now it occurs to me they may be right.”
Clement shook his head. “I’m just one man and his family, here to start over, Mr. Nugent. We may be part of a trend, but we’re only part of it.” Clement’s voice was testy, brittle.
“Call me Efram. And let me finish. I was going to say maybe we need a defining moment. This is going to be a town, maybe a big town. That’s okay with me.” He lit his pipe and puffed out white, aromatic smoke. “And you’re a politician,” he added. “You want to be involved. That’s okay too.”
“I’ve worked as a politician. Now I’m working as a homesteader. I’m beginning to wonder what it is that’s
not
okay
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