“What?” Lawrence didn’t know the car. I told him whose it was.
“Maybe she’s just visiting,” I said, “and Dad hasn’t told her what happened. Or maybe they’re just getting their stories straight, before I walk in.” I paused. “I guess I kind of precipitated a crisis.”
“Hard to believe, you doing something like that,” Lawrence said. He parked the Jag by my Virtue out back of cabin 3. As he was getting out, he noticed the late Leonard Colebert’s backpack in the back seat, and grabbed it.
“Your dad wants this to give back to that guy’s family when they get here.”
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.