“Are you out of your mind? Trying to walk up here?”
“My ankle’s been feeling a lot better lately and I thought I could make it without much trouble.”
“Have you twisted it again?”
“I don’t think so. I just got a branch in the face is all. Lost my balance.”
“Dad, go back to the cabin.”
He reached out a hand so that I’d help him up. “I wanted to talk to you,” he said when he had hold of me.
“Listen, Dad—”
“I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since Lana and I, since we tried to explain things, and, well, I don’t know. I wondered if you were okay.”
“I’m okay, Dad.”
“Because, I wouldn’t want you to…I guess what I’m saying is, it’s been nice.”
“Nice? What’s been nice?”
“Having you up here. It’s been nice having you up here this week. I mean, it’s been kind of crazy around here, but it’s been nice. That’s all.”
We were both quiet for a moment, listening to the sounds of the night. The odd cricket, the breeze blowing through the branches.
“I’ve liked it, too, Dad.” I paused. “I’ve got to go back and help Lawrence.”
“Sure. What are you two doing?”
“We’re listening to the Wickenses.”
“Really?” Surprised, and intrigued.
“Shhh! Keep your voice down.”
“Can you do that? Listen in on them, without their permission?”
“Dad, if we got their permission, wouldn’t that sort of defeat the exercise?”
“Oh yeah, I suppose.”
“Listen, Dad, head back to the cabin. We can talk some more later, okay?”
“Zack!”
Lawrence was whispering at top volume. “Zack, Jesus, get back here!”
“Okay,” Dad said, “I’m going. But we’ll talk later, right?”
“Yeah. Get home without getting eaten, okay?” I reached into my pocket to offer him my bear spray.
“No,” he said. “I got my hands busy with crutches. I’ll be okay.”
He turned and started hobbling back. I watched him until he was swallowed up by the trees and the darkness.
A moment later, I was squatting down next to Lawrence again, slipping my headphones back on, pointing the shotgun mike at the house.
“What I miss?” I said.
“Shut up,” Lawrence said, trying to listen.
There was still the faint dog heartbeat in the background, and its breathing. But the voices were coming in pretty clear again.
“I can do it, Timmy.” Dougie, I thought.
“I don’t know.”
“Trust me, I can do it. I’ll show you. I won’t forget anything. And I’ll find a good parking spot for the van, then find a good spot to watch from.”
A chair squeak blocked out Timmy’s reply. All I heard was “…parade to remember…”
“Yeah, for sure.” Wendell. “The remote, I think the button’s a bit sticky.”
“It’s fine.” Timmy. “Want to double-check the…though.”
“I get to take the remote.” Dougie.
“Yeah, if you don’t fucking forget it.” Wendell.
“Fuck you.”
“What kind of sandwiches you want?” Charlene again.
“Ham,” said one.
“With cheese,” said another.
“No mustard on mine.” Timmy, I thought.
Whatever they planned to do at tomorrow’s parade, I guessed no one wanted to do it on an empty stomach.
“Okay, let’s get this done.” Timmy Wickens.
More chair scraping, people getting up from the table. Seconds later, the back door of the farmhouse swung open and three figures made their way across the yard to the barn. A large door, big enough to admit a vehicle, was slid open, and someone flicked on a light, and once the three of them were inside, the door was slid almost all the way shut with just enough space left for someone to squeeze through.
“You heard that?” I said. “Remote? And parade?”
Lawrence nodded solemnly. “We need to get a look at what they’ve got inside that barn. Whatever they’re putting together, it’s in there.”
“So, how do you propose to do that?”
Lawrence smiled. “We’ll sneak over.”
“Across the yard? You’re joking, right?”
“The dogs are inside. They’re probably asleep now. It’s late. We should be fine.”
“Lawrence, really, there has to be another way to—”
“We need to know what’s in that barn. And we haven’t got that building bugged, the dogs aren’t there, and it’s even farther away from here than the farmhouse. The shotgun’s not going to work. We need to hear what’s going on in there.”
I patted my jacket, felt the can of bear spray inside it.
“I guess if this stuff will slow down a bear, it ought to slow down a dog,” I said.
“Maybe,” Lawrence said. “Those dogs, they might be too dumb to know they’ve been hit.”
Lawrence removed his headphones, folded up his laptop, placed his equipment in their cases. Then he had his foot into a gap in the wire fence, and it sagged under his weight as he got his other foot into a higher opening. In a moment, he was over the top and hopping down onto the other side.