“Maybe.”
“Do you know where it came from?” Evan asked, sitting forward in his chair.
Jason’s voice sounded funny. Light and airy, like he was talking in his sleep. “If I remember right, he got it at an auction in town. Carted it home. Grandma hated it.”
Evan grabbed a notebook and pen from the table, writing in town at the top of the page. “Do you remember where?”
“Not off the top of my head. Ev, what’s this about?”
“You won’t think I’m crazy?”
“I already think that.”
“Good.” Evan squinted at the backyard. “Do you think Justin would print a story about the clock if I did a write-up?”
A pause on Jason’s end. “What kind of write-up?”
“I don’t know yet, but with the way that clock looks, there’s got to be a history, you know? I thought I could do a little research while Shaun’s at his treatments in town, uncover where it came from, that type of thing.”
“Sure, man, I can throw it at him if you want, but I don’t know how much you’ll find out about it. I think it’s older than the hills, and the locals might not appreciate an outsider poking around.”
Evan’s eyebrows drew down. “I thought you said this was the friendliest town in the state?”
“Yeah, well, you know how small towns can be. Somebody from the outside comes around asking questions ...”
“There’s got to be someone around that would be willing to talk, who knows about it, right? You said he got it from a local auction?”
“Yeah, you could definitely check it out anyway.”
Jason’s voice sounded more normal again, and Evan heard the rasp of wind against the receiver.
“Keep me posted, buddy. I’ll shoot an email to Justin this afternoon, see if he’d be willing to run a piece on something like that.”
“That would be great, man, really appreciate it.”
“No problem. Any other questions about the place while you’ve got me? Didn’t dig up a cannibal graveyard down by the lake, did you?”
Evan huffed laughter. “No, not yet, but if your relatives were cannibals, that’s one hell of a story.”
Jason laughed without humor, and Evan decided to change the subject. “I met a woman.” He regretted the words as soon as he spoke them.
“What? Really? Who?”
Evan smiled in spite of himself. “Her name’s Selena Belgaurd, ever heard of her?”
“No, she live in town?”
“No, other side of the lake, but she’s a psychologist.”
“Oooo, a shrink. Is she hot?”
Evan frowned. “She’s kinda pretty.”
“She’s hot. Where’d you meet her?”
“She lost her canoe paddle.”
“Is that a euphemism?”
“No, she dropped it in the lake when she was passing the island. I helped her out.”
“I bet you did.”
Evan frowned. “I can’t tell you anything.”
“I’m kidding—that’s great! Are you going to see her again?”
“I don’t know, maybe.”
“Ev, it would be good for you.”
Evan stood and went to check on Shaun, a familiar agitation rising inside him. “Listen, I don’t even know if I’m ready to go down that road yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.”
“Hey, I’m not saying marry her, just get to know her.”
Evan watched the TV for a few seconds without seeing it. “Yeah, I gotta get going, Shaun’s appointment’s in an hour.”
“Ev, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I gotta go.”
Evan hung up without saying goodbye. He spun his wedding band around and around his finger, and then began to get them ready for the trip into town.
~
When he left Shaun at the hospital, the occupational therapist they met earlier in the week told Evan that it would be about two hours before they would finish. Shaun’s head kept swiveling to inspect all of the colorful drawings attached to the walls of the OT room, and Evan had to lean into his view to tell him he’d be right back.
The day hadn’t warmed, but the town held a certain chilly beauty as Evan drove, a scalding coffee clutched in one hand. After buying new sheets, he sat in the store’s parking lot, sipping his coffee and thinking about where to go next. This was the part he liked about writing articles: the research. So much could be gleaned from merely asking questions and visiting places. It was almost like he absorbed the feeling of a piece through osmosis. Justin at Dachlund magazine had raved over his first article on special education, and had demanded him to write more. But then Elle got sick, and ...
He didn’t want to think about that right now. He’d trodden that path too many times, had gotten lost on it. It was unsteady and dangerous. He could cut himself on memories like that. He couldn’t control his dreams, but he could make an effort to keep his mind his own while awake.
He put the van in drive and made his way toward the docks. Jacob hadn’t been at the shop when they came through earlier; perhaps he would be in now. It would be the simplest place to begin.
When he parked the van in the lot, he saw that the elderly twins were again at their posts outside the front door, beneath the building’s awning. Both wore identical jeans and woolen sweaters against the brisk morning air.
“Does their mother dress them like that?” Evan mumbled before getting out of the van.
He smiled at them as he approached, nodding once before beginning to walk past them.
“You the feller out at the Fin?”
Evan stopped before pulling open the door. The twin on the left had his bald head tilted, and he could see just how polished the dome was.
“Yes, Evan Tormer,” he said, holding his hand out for the elderly man to shake.
“Arnold Benson, and this is my brother, Wendal.”