Toward the end of June, Burt Langstrom stopped showing up at the college. At first, David thought nothing of it—it was summer, after all—but then he was notified by Miriam Yoleck, the head of the English department, that Burt had turned in his resignation a week earlier and that all his summer classes (which were to be taught online) had been canceled. When David pressed Miriam for additional information, she said she knew very little except that Burt had cited “personal reasons” for his departure. And while Miriam did a good job looking disappointed at this news, David couldn’t help but see through her act; if Burt Langstrom’s “personal reasons” were that he had gotten sick, Miriam was more than happy—relieved, even—not to have him around.
That evening, David detoured from his usual route home, heading instead to the breezy bayside neighborhood where the Langstroms lived. As he drove down Burt’s street, he began to wonder if Burt would even answer the door.
As he rolled up in front of the Langstroms’ split-level house, he was distraught to find that the shades in all the windows had been pulled and that there was an overall vacant look to the house that troubled him on some gut level. Had it not been for Burt’s champagne-colored Oldsmobile in the driveway, David would have suspected the family had picked up and left. For several minutes, David sat in the Bronco, listening to the radio—a classic rock station whose music was interrupted by occasional news and traffic reports. Then he got out.
He was halfway up the Langstroms’ driveway when Burt came around the side of the house. David’s presence must have startled the man; Burt paused in midstride, a slack expression on his face. He wore a pair of khaki shorts and a T-shirt from last year’s faculty bowling tournament. His bald head was shiny with sweat.
David smiled and raised a hand as he approached. At the back of his head, he was recalling what Miriam Yoleck had said about Burt resigning for personal reasons, and wondered now if Burt had, in fact, contracted the illness. Yet as David drew closer, Burt broke out into a wide grin. David couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Burt Langstrom smile.
“David. What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Burt. I heard from Miriam that you pulled the plug. Thought I’d check in with you, see if everything was okay.”
Burt shook his hand—the palm was clammy and hot—then pulled David closer for a one-armed hug. “Good to see you,” Burt said into his ear, then he pulled away. Rivulets of sweat trailed down the sides of Burt’s face. He smelled of perspiration. “But you didn’t need to come here.”
“I was worried about you. I never expected you to quit. You had summer classes.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Burt peered over at the front of the house, and David had the peculiar feeling that he was checking to made sure the shades were still drawn and that no one was looking out. “I’m done with that job.”
“What will you do for money?”
“I won’t need money. I’m putting the plan into action, David.”
“Renting the RV?”
“We’re heading off to the woods. I stopped by this morning and forked over the first payment. I’ll be picking the old girl up tomorrow morning. Then we take to the hills.”
“And Laura’s okay with it now?”
“She’s come around. Staying cooped up in the house hasn’t been healthy for her. She’s been so stressed.”
David recalled the way she had sounded that afternoon on the phone, when he’d called her to talk about her husband. She had sounded more than just stressed, David thought; she had spoken like someone under the influence of a hypnotist.
“Well,” David said, “I’m sorry to see you go, but who knows? Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s for the best.”
“Of course,” Burt said. “Of course it is. You should think about it yourself.”
“Maybe I will. Is Laura home now?”
“Of course.”
“Can I see her?”
A deep vertical crease formed between Burt’s eyebrows. “Huh?” he grunted.
“Can I talk to her for a second?”
“She won’t see you,” Burt said. “She won’t see anyone.”
“What about the girls? Are they here?”
Burt planted two meaty hands on his hips. “What’s this about?” he asked.
“I guess I just want to say good-bye before you all take off for the woods,” David said. He offered Burt a sheepish smile and hoped he appeared genuine. The truth was, he was suddenly terrified of what might have become of Burt Langstrom’s family. Something was wrong here. Something was off.
One of Burt’s eyebrows arched. “Is that right?”
“Just to say good-bye.”
“She won’t open the door. Not even for you, David. It’s nothing personal, of course. It’s just . . . the way things are now.”