The Devil's Wire (23 page)

58

Jennifer waits at the kitchen window for Lenise to get home. Sometime after six the battered station wagon pulls up and Lenise gets out and disappears inside the house. Jennifer gives it ten minutes then takes the path round to Lenise's backyard and raps twice on the ranch sliders. Lenise appears, her face a study in raw fury. Jennifer experiences a strange sense of satisfaction. The sharks were circling and for once Jennifer wasn't the only one bleeding.

"You messed up royally," says Jennifer. "You need to fix it."

Lenise grabs Jennifer and pulls her into the far corner of the patio. "You told him about my ex," she hisses.

"Let go of me."

Lenise bangs her back against the wall, gets right in her face. "You're playing a dangerous game, Jenny."

"He came to me. He already knew. He ran a check after finding your fingerprint."

"I don't believe you," says Lenise.

"I don't care what you believe."

Lenise moves closer. "You could be wired for all I know."

"Don't be an idiot," says Jennifer.

"I wouldn't put it past you."

Lenise yanks at Jennifer's clothes, slaps her down for a listening device.

Jennifer pushes back.

"You're being ridiculous."

"Where is it?"

"Get off me!" Jennifer breaks free and lifts up her shirt, spins around. "See? Zilch. Satisfied?" she says.

"No."

Lenise hunts the yard, batting at the bushes and searching the flower pots for cameras or microphones.

"Lenise, there's no one else here."

"Why would I believe anything you say?"

"You left your fingerprint behind. You did it to yourself. And it implicates me," says Jennifer.

"They've got nothing."

"A fingerprint in the truck of a missing man isn't nothing."

Lenise points a knuckle in Jennifer's face. "Don't even think about turning on me. Your prints are all over that knife and my version is so much more compelling than yours – I only helped with the body after
you
killed him, I'd be accessory after the fact, but that's all. I'm not going to prison or back to South Africa."

Jennifer pauses. "I've never seen you so scared."

"Shut up."

Jennifer begins to laugh. "Like a scared little bitch." Jennifer laughs harder, her breath trumpeting, and God it feels good, like that third glass of wine when your limbs go elastic and there's a flutter in your chest. "All your scheming and there you go, leaving your fingerprint behind like a total dunce. You can't stay in Wisconsin now, can you? At the very least you'll get deported. Maybe you should run off, disappear before they come for you. Go on, run along now, get out of my life."

Lenise looks at her and seems to deflate. "You're right."

Jennifer stops laughing. "What do you mean I'm right?"

"It's no use, we're both finished," says Lenise.

"You can't just give up."

"I'm out of ideas."

"You've got to think of something," insists Jennifer.

Lenise drops into the garden chair. "There is one thing."

"What is it?" says Jennifer.

"Let me take her. You're the one they want. What's the point in both of us going down?"

"You can't be serious," says Jennifer.

"I'll look after her. We'll go some place far away where no one can find us, where the authorities can't touch her. I'll keep her safe."

Jennifer is incredulous. "My God, you're not kidding."

"She's better off with me. You know that."

"I'm her mother."

Lenise looks at her. "She despises you, Jenny."

Jennifer recoils. "That's not true."

"I'm sorry. I know that hurts. But she told me."

Jennifer feels winded.

"You're making that up."

Lenise turns away, walks the length of the patio and lifts her face to the sky. "At the end of the day I don't need your permission, do I, Jenny? I can do what I like."

Jennifer feels a rush of nausea. "You're out of your mind."

"There's an easy way and a hard way, Jenny."

"Stay away from her."

"The easy way or the hard way?" says Lenise. "It's up to you."

"You're not taking McKenzie anywhere," says Jennifer.

Lenise opens the ranch sliders and pauses before going inside. "Thanks for stopping by."

59

Once there was a fire in an old weatherboard house on the block where Jennifer used to live. She was small – preschool small – when her mother grasped her hand and hurried her out onto the sidewalk to look at it, this formless, blazing surf the color of tinned Spaghetti-Os, with its furious roar and snapping crackle, and the terror of its heat, which Jennifer thought would boil her blood.

She yelled at her mother to take her home but her mother firmly shook her head.

"You need to see this, Jennifer Marie."

Soon other people gathered along the street, eyes wide with awe, watching the growing inferno. An upstairs window exploded and flames licked the guttering through the broken glass. Everyone gasped and a lady with tea bag eyes yelled, "I think I see someone!"

In the crowd there was a guy with an afro and he pulled off his t-shirt and bunched it to cover his mouth and ran right into that house. Everyone waited but he never came out. Then a fire truck pulled up and a man in a yellow hardhat stepped down and the kid on the BMX with one bare foot on a pedal and the other planted on the ground pointed at the house.

"Hey, mister, there's a guy in there."

The hardhat man put his hands on his hips and made a sucking noise with his cheek.

"It's fully involved. No way, no how my men are going in."

Instead the firemen uncurled their hoses and sprayed the blaze with giant fans of water which misted Jennifer's face. Someone said that's a real shame and people began to walk away and the tea bag lady murmured "I thought I saw someone" and finally her mother's hand tightened around hers and they went back up the street toward home.

"See, Jennifer Marie, that's what you get when you go playing with fire."

Jennifer stares at the ceiling, and pulls the cover up around her shoulder. Years later when Jennifer talked about the fire, her mother had seemed pleased.

"You remember that."

"Sure, I was terrified. And that guy who went in and never came out…"

Her mother had frowned.

"What man?"

And then her mother's face cleared and she nodded in a knowing way.

That was her mother: always ready with a lesson to ward off the otherwise inevitable badness in Jennifer. No matter how good Jennifer tried to be, her mother's skepticism met her at every corner. She was always tossing Jennifer's room for some imagined sign of aberrant behavior – hidden cookies, damning diaries and later, condoms and weed. And when she would find nothing she would accuse Jennifer of being devious for hiding things so well.

As far as Jennifer could remember the worst thing she ever did was get her ears pierced without permission at Smith's Pharmacy when she was twelve, but to her mother, even this small infraction was clear evidence of Jennifer's poor character and so justified no TV for a month and, even worse, removing the diamante studs so the holes in her lobes would close up.

Perhaps her mother was right, perhaps Jennifer was bad all along and only her mother could see it.

Jennifer gets out of bed and pulls on her robe and goes to McKenzie's room.

"Knock first," murmurs McKenzie, burying her face in her pillow.

"You're coming with me," says Jennifer.

"I'm sleeping."

"It's Saturday and we're both alive, with two good arms and two good legs."

"What's wrong with you?"

"There's some place I want you to see."

*

By the time they reach Hoyt Park the sky is the color of bone. Jennifer drives up the winding road until they reach a little used perch on the eastern side. They get out and climb the steps to the wooden lookout with its 360 degree views across Madison and out over the east.

"Now watch this."

The sun emerges from the horizon like a marigold.

"That's something isn't it? The color?"

"Yeah."

"Did you know the human eye can distinguish between 10 million different colors? Think about that –
10 million
."

Birds wheel through the sky and it's just so beautiful that Jennifer wishes they could stay up here, the two of them, bathed forever in this golden light.

"My mother always said a sunrise makes you appreciate the world and your place in it." Jennifer feels the wind change, a cold slipstream, barreling in from the north and she rubs her arms. "She could be tough, but she meant well. You would have liked her."

McKenzie walks around the lookout, scanning the world below.

"He isn't coming back is he?" she says, sneaker toeing the kickboard.

Jennifer fixes her gaze on Lake Mendota.

"Let's not talk about him, just for now, okay? It's so nice here, with the sun, me and you."

McKenzie picks a loose splinter on the wooden railing with a thumb nail. "We used to play poker for candy. You didn't know about it because of your sugar vendetta. But it was fun." A spot of blood appears on her thumb and she smears it into the wood. "We used to do a lot of fun things like that."

Jennifer turns back to face the sun, stares at the lone orange eye upon them.

"New beginnings, hon. Every day you can begin anew. It's a choice."

*

Jennifer angles the car into the garage and cuts the engine. She looks at McKenzie.

"I love you, hon. You know that."

"Why are you acting so weird?"

"I'm not."

"All that sunrise stuff. Have you been smoking weed or something?"

"I just have the feeling good things are about to happen."

"Oh, so now you're psychic."

Jennifer pauses. "We need to get organized for Florida."

McKenzie's fist curls. "I thought you were over that."

"It's time to put things in motion. Properly this time."

"You know I don't want to go."

"It'll be a fresh start, hon."

"I don't care about fresh starts. I want to stay here."

"It's not what's best for us."

"I'm not going anywhere until we know where Dad is." McKenzie storms into the house and Jennifer follows.

"We can't put our lives on hold because of him," says Jennifer.

McKenzie spins round. "Did he do the same things to you?"

"What?"

"Did he touch you like he touched me?"

"Oh, McKenzie, hon, what good would it do?"

McKenzie comes close, eyes burning. "
Tell me
."

"Please, stop this."

McKenzie shoves Jennifer's shoulder. "Answer me!" McKenzie shoves her again, with both hands, on both shoulders. "I said answer me!"

"I won't," says Jennifer.

McKenzie turns away and the fight seems to leave her. "I didn't want to do those things," she says.

"I know."

"I didn't." McKenzie places both hands across her mouth and begins to sob. "Why didn't you stop him?"

"I didn't know," says Jennifer.

"But you should have seen," presses McKenzie, tears streaking her face.

"Oh God, you have to believe me."

"But it was your job to see."

"Oh, hon."

McKenzie stares at Jennifer. "He went to you, after. You must have known. I used to wait, hope you would do something. I tried to tell you but you never listened – "

"Stop this."

" – because you didn't want to hear."

"That isn't true."

McKenzie takes two steps toward Jennifer. "The truth is I hate you more than I hate him."

"You don't mean that."

"Oh, but I do."

60

She stands in the dark kitchen, hipbone against the edge of countertop, the only sound, the buzz of the fridge. Jennifer lifts the smoldering cigarette to her lips as she stares out the window. She draws deeply, letting it fill her lungs. The rush is welcome and numbing and freeing.

Outside the wet road shines. Rain ceased falling hours ago but the temperature has plummeted and everything is turning to ice. By morning daggers will hang from the streetlamps. But right now the chill is exactly what she needs and she stands there in her bra and underpants, wearing the cold like a suit.

Across the street, Lenise's house is silent and lightless, the ear of the satellite dish cupped to the sky.

On the bench, next to the soft pack of Camels, is the gun. Jennifer traces the cool steel terrain of the weapon, with its enamel, twice-baked coating and well-oiled interior. Inside there are ten copper-tipped missiles, snug as beans inside their nooks, ready to come to life.

She can see everything, even the inner workings of her own body. The taut floss of her veins mooring muscle and bone. The strings of her eyeballs flexing this way and that. The vitreous fluid like silk behind her lids. Every nerve stands on end, like seedlings rising to meet the rays of the moon. She drains the cigarette, savoring the harshness at the back of her throat, then wipes the butt back and forth in the wet sink and pushes it down the plug hole where it will come to rest with the other detritus in the S-bend.

*

Using the spare key Lenise had given McKenzie, Jennifer enters her neighbor's house. She climbs the stairs, opens the bedroom door and puts the gun to Lenise's throat. "You know what I want."

Lenise's eyes fly open. She's tries to sit up but Jennifer presses the muzzle in further. "Don't."

Lenise blinks at Jennifer. "This makes me sad, Jenny. Especially when we've been through so much together."

"Tell me."

"You act like I was against you. I was never against you."

"Where is the evidence?"

"Alright," says Lenise. "I took it to the plant."

*

Jennifer parks in front of the gates and pulls Lenise from the car and they follow the open sewer lines through the back fields toward the plant. The night is blacker than black and Jennifer can't see her own hand in front of her face. She's worried Lenise may try something funny so she warns her to stick close to the wall, and pushes Lenise in the hip with the gun, and they move quickly along the trench until they find the opening to the empty building and enter.

"Where?" says Jennifer.

Lenise lifts her chin to the office that overlooks the factory floor. "Up there."

They climb the steps and reach the landing.

"That one." Lenise points to the office on the left.

Jennifer opens the door. Bird shit. Dust. A trace of phosphorous. Jennifer waves the gun at Lenise.

"Show me."

Lenise enters the office and crosses the floor, stopping at a pair of balcony doors overlooking the forest.

"What do you suppose it was like –" says Lenise, glancing through the dirty glass, "working here day after day in that poison? Do you think they went mad after awhile – you know, agent orange mad, and had offspring with no brains and mysterious new forms of incurable cancer?"

"Where is it?"

Lenise looks back at Jennifer. "I only ever acted in your best interests, Jenny."

Jennifer laughs. "You did what was best for Lenise."

"I know you think that, but it isn't true." Lenise pauses. "I'm sorry to tell you, Jenny, but you were a bad mother."

"You don't know anything."

"I know you weren't there when she needed you the most."

The words burn and Jennifer snaps. "I didn't have any idea about what Hank was doing and you know it."

"The point is that maybe you should have." Lenise's eyes blaze. "Hurts, doesn't it? To know that you've failed, that you're a disappointment to yourself, that your daughter's going to grow up knowing her mother let her down in the most terrible way."

"Shut up," says Jennifer.

"You don't know how lucky you are to have her. Oh you give lip service to it, but you really don't know."

Jennifer lifts the gun. "
That's enough
."

"Go on," says Lenise, facing her. "I want you to."

Jennifer's heart pounds, the gun shakes in her hand, but she doesn't lower it. "The evidence first," she says.

"I would never have used it."

"I don't believe you."

Lenise nods sadly. "Of course you don't."

She bends down behind the desk and pulls out a black duffle bag. "It's yours. Take it. No catch. It's all there."

Jennifer looks inside and sees bloodstained clothing and the knife wrapped in a rag.

"It's so easy for you," says Lenise. "You've got McKenzie. You're beautiful. You'll move away and make a new life for yourself, find someone who loves you. I'll be stuck here working some shit job with no one to come home to."

"Perhaps that's exactly what you deserve," says Jennifer. "Did you ever think about that?"

Jennifer slings the duffle bag over her shoulder, turns to Lenise and lifts the gun.

Lenise looks back at her. "I'll save you the bullet."

She throws open the balcony doors. A rush of wind almost blasts them off their feet. Jennifer lifts a hand to shield her face from the flying grit.

"What are the hell you doing!" she shouts over the roaring wind.

"You can go now, Jenny."

Lenise steps backward onto the ancient platform and her hair takes flight and her eyes gleam. In an instant, Jennifer realizes this is not what she wants – Lenise wiped out, another person lost to this entire, sorry mess.

"Come back inside. You're going to fall!" she yells.

Even with the howl of the wind Jennifer can hear the wood screech like a sinking ship. Lenise takes another step back and the wood creaks and Jennifer can see that ruin of a railing dangling over the edge offers no protection.

"
Lenise, don't!
"

But Lenise keeps moving until she's hard up against the rust-blistered barrier. "I set you free, Jenny."

Then the wood tears open.

"Look out!" cries Jennifer.

Lenise screams as her right leg smashes through the platform. She stares at Jennifer, stunned, then watches in terror as the rest of the timber begins to give way around her.

"Oh God! Jen –"

Lenise shudders down once, then twice, until she's armpit deep in a hole and kicking in the dead space above the ground.

"Jenny, I don't want to die!"

"The railing," shouts Jennifer.

Lenise extends her arm and grips one of the metal rods. Jennifer yells for her to hold on then lies down on her stomach and reaches for Lenise's wrist.

"Please don't let me die."

The railing shakes and squeals and two screws pop and plummet to earth and Jennifer is in danger of falling herself. Lenise's wrist is mere inches away as Jennifer snakes further out onto the platform, feeling the timber buckle and squawk beneath her. Then, mercifully, her hand locks around Lenise's wrist and she pulls. But gravity is stronger.

"Jenny!"

"Hold on!"

Jennifer's shoulder feels like it's going to pull apart. Then, out of nowhere, she has a surge of strength and feels the heat of adrenalin flood her body and she hauls Lenise up through the hole, pulling her clear to the safe ground of the office floor.

Lenise begins to sob. "I knew you wouldn't let me go."

They lie there shaking and breathless and spent.

Finally, Jennifer gets to her feet. She picks up the bag, pausing at the door to look back at Lenise. But there's nothing left to say.