Thomas shakes his head. “I haven’t talked to either of them since that day at the police station. We’re all grounded. No phones. No video games.” Thomas half laughs. “Eli brought me a stack of books to read. I can’t believe it but I’ve actually read one already. It was really good. I’ve never read a book that I didn’t have to. Now I like it.”
“Eli Hensel? Whose dad owns the scrapyard?”
“Yeah.”
“Huh,” says Clay.
“Huh what?”
“Are you friends with Eli Hensel?”
“No. I just know him. Kind of.”
Clay lets that sit for a while, then says, “Well, there’s something positive that’s come out of all this. What book did you read?”
“James. It was long, but what else do I have to do?”
“Good book. That was nice of Eli.”
“Yeah,” says Thomas. “He’s a super-nice dude.”
CHAPTER 40
“It’s not looking good,” says Judd. His voice is small and weak but steady.
They’re gathered at Deb’s house just after 11:00AM. Judd, Clay, Braedon, Mei, Zoey, and Deb sit in the doublewide’s small living room. The somber mood tries to hold its own against a beautiful June day. The screen door and screen windows let the summer air just about turn the doublewide inside out. A clear blue sky allows the sun to illuminate every shade of green in the trees, shrubs, and grasses. Deb’s potted flowers all seem to be blooming at the same time. And the birds are so taken with all this beauty that they have to sing about it.
“We now have three eyewitnesses saying Teddy was dead,” Judd adds. “Damn kids should have told us the truth from the beginning—they’ve put us through hell. And now I think wehave to assume the worst. Still a lot of unanswered questions, like where the hell is Teddy’s body?”
“I ordered a full search of the bluff and surrounding area,” says Zoey. “A K-9 unit is on the way.”
Judd responds with a nod. Cawing crows and wind fill the small home until Deb speaks.
“This is the worst part,” says Deb. “The knowing and not knowing. If Teddy was still where they found him, then we wouldn’t be in this purgatory. I mean, it sure feels like he’s dead. The complete absence of contact. But we can’t grieve. At least I can’t. Not yet. Not until it’s final.”
“Nor should you,” says Mei. “I see this at the hospital when a patient is clinging to life. There’s very little chance of recovery, but the family cannot grieve. They can be devastated and heartbroken but part of grief is healing and that process cannot begin until after the person has died.”
“I’m going to the bluff, too,” says Deb. “I can’t sit here any longer.”
Clay sits on the couch. Braedon sits on the floor, leaning back against Clay’s shins. Clay puts his hands on his son’s shoulders and says, “Deb, we’ll do everything we can to make this purgatory time, as you call it, as short as possible.”
Zoey says, “I’m sorry things are looking the way they are.”
Clay watches Deb process what she’s hearing, or at least her attempt to.Thank God it’s summer, he thinks. She can get outside and see life. And beauty. The world’s afterlife following Minnesota’s unforgiving winter. A small consolation, but it’s something. And in situations like this, something is better than nothing.
Mei says that she and Braedon have been cooking allmorning and that they’ll serve lunch. Judd doesn’t want to leave Deb for a minute. As Braedon and Mei head into the kitchen, Clay asks Zoey to step outside.
“I have a hunch,” says Clay. He speaks just above a whisper since every window in the doublewide is open. “About how Teddy died. Want to go for a ride before that search team is crawling all over the bluff?”
Forty-five minutes later, they stand atop Miller’s Bluff. They can see the entire town of Riverwood and then some. The creeks and rivers of Fillmore County wind and merge in and out of forest and fields. Clay remembers coming up here as a kid and thinking,My world can’t be this small. And it is small. Small but beautiful.
“I’ve never been to the top before,” says Zoey. “Pretty.”
“But there’s something that’s not pretty. That’s why the city council voted to get rid of it.”
“The power lines,” says Zoey. “And the metal towers that hold them up.”
Clay nods, steps over to the base of the stanchion, and says, “Call for help if I fall.” He swings one leg up and begins to climb. Up he goes from brace to brace until he reaches a ladder for maintenance and repair. Clay knows he should have some sort of safety harness, but there’s no wind, and he’s still in excellent shape. He doesn’t dare look down—he knows how that will feel. He keeps his eyes on the old power line that still runs over the bluff. The city replaced it with a buried line and hasn’t gotten around to taking this one down yet.
