coffee and kissed his mother goodbye.
He drove into town to the hardware store on Granard Street and parked out front. He bought a roll of chicken wire and some heavy-duty clips to mend a tear in the perimeter fence around the property. At the desk, he paid his money and politely answered enquires after Jessie’s wellbeing from the well-meaning proprietor. He left the store, loaded his purchases into the back of the truck, climbed into the cab and drove towards home.
Halfway to the house, he turned left instead of right and found himself heading out of town to where his brother lived, fifteen miles north of Rockville in a shabby trailer park near the county line. When he got there Ace’s truck was nowhere to be seen and the trailer, dusty and sagging in the sunlight, was empty. Captain, Ace’s dog, came out from under the trailer to the end of his chain and gave a few unenthusiastic barks to let Mike know he was aware of his presence. Captain hated to be left behind, and Ace rarely did so unless he had plans of various shades on the go.
Mike checked there was water in Captain’s bowl and then sat on the wooden steps, rubbing the dog’s head. He had no idea why he was there. It was not like Ace would offer him advice, even if he had any; that wasn’t his brother’s way. Hell, Ace could barely take care of himself. Or maybe Ace had the right idea. Maybe being unfettered and beholden to no one was how the game ought to be played.
Two little kids with dirty knees and deeply tanned faces pedalled past the trailer, making sure they got themselves a good look at the stranger in their midst. They rode to the end of the street and back. The bigger of the two pulled up, popped his bike stand and dropped one foot to the ground.
‘You looking for Ace, mister?’
‘I was.’
‘He ain’t here.’
‘I see that.’
‘He went off this mornin’.’
‘I see.’
‘With his friend with the wonky eye.’
‘Right.’
The boys glanced at each other. Clearly, they expected this information to be enough to get Mike moving.
‘Why’re you waitin’, mister?’
Mike shrugged. ‘Seems the thing to do.’
‘You say so.’
They pedalled away.
Mike listened to the breeze move through the branches of the trees behind Ace’s trailer. He rubbed Captain’s ears and noticed a fine dusting of grey on the hound’s snout. He thought of how fleeting life could be. He thought of Alan Edwards and Tracy Flowers, people he had not known well, but liked and respected. Finally, he thought of Jessie, of how her eyes drifted whenever he tried to talk to her, of how she flinched at sounds, of how she moved away from him if he touched her at night and cried silently when she thought he was asleep. He thought of all that she had lost – her friends, her dignity, her peace of mind – and he felt angered and guilty. He thought about the future, and for the first time in his life, Mike Conway could not see where it might lie. Everything had been blown apart the day two boys decided it might be something to show the world the power of their savagery. Now, the wrongs they had felt rested on everyone, on the lives of the families trying to cope with the deaths of their loved ones, the survivors, the wounded. Everyone had lost something irretrievable.
Mike watched as a bank of clouds moved across the sun, briefly darkening the valley. He stood up and walked to the truck, and felt as he walked, his own heart fall into shadow.
17
J essie stared at the television screen but neither saw nor heard what was playing. She was dazed from exhaustion and felt hollow and wrung out. The night before had been another in a growing chain of sleepless hours. The air was still, her bed comfortable, but whenever she reached a point where she might fall asleep an image would rise up from her memory and jolt her into wakefulness again. In the end, she had got up, preferring to wander the house than lie there listening to Mike breathing steadily and deeply
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