The Wake Trilogy: Gone Part 12

"I'm Janie. I'm his daughter," Janie says. It sounds weird.

"His daughter? He never told me he had a kid."

"I don't think he knew about me."

The woman sighs. "Well, I'm sorry about it, that's for sure. Will you tell him I wish him well?"

"Sure, I . . . he's in a coma, or something, but I'll still tell him. Buta"can you tell me a little bit about him? I mean, I just found out he's my dad when he got taken to the hospital, so I don't know anything. . . ." Janie swallows hard. "You want some water?"

"Naw, thanks. I got plenty in the truck." Still in a state of shock at the news, she swipes mindlessly at a mosquito. "Henry Feingold is a good guy. He don't bother anybody. He might look a little strange but he has a heart of gold. He just does his business and lives here, all alone, but he says he prefers it. He studies a lot on the computer, researching for his business and some other stuffa"I think he took an online course once. Not quite sure what, but he's usually always got something interesting to talk about.

"Did he say he was feeling sick at all last week?"

"Nothing more'n his usual headaches. He'd get migraines sometimes. Never got 'em checked out, though I told him he should. Said he didn't have insurance."

"So he's had headaches for a while?"

"On and off. Is that what . . . ?" The UPS woman nods in place of saying the words.

"Yeah. Something in his brain, maybe a tumor. They don't know much, I guess."

The UPS woman looks down at the dirt. "Well. I'm real sorry. You take care. I'm . . . yeah. Heck. I'm real sorry." She picks up the packages that Janie prepared for s.h.i.+pping.

"Thanks," Janie says.

"If something happens, you knowa"if you could maybe leave me a note on the door? I come by a lot, sometimes twice a day if there's an afternoon pickup. I'd sure appreciate it. Name's Cathy with a C."

Janie nods. "I'll try. Hey, Cathy?"

"Yeah?"

Janie fidgets. "He's not, like, blind or anything. Is he?"

Cathy gives Janie a quizzical look. "No," she says. "He doesn't even wear gla.s.ses."

1:15 p.m.

Janie sits in the old La-Z-Boy, thinking it all through.

Isolation.

He lives here, he's in his late thirties, he's not blind or crippled.

"Oh, jeez," Janie says. She lets her head fall back in the chair. "What the h.e.l.l am I doing? It makes perfect sense. I'm such an idiot."

Her phone won't stop buzzing.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey," Cabe says, sounding miffed. "You got something going on or what?"

"I just needed to get away," Janie says. "Why, what's so important that I can't be gone for three hours without somebody chasing me down?" Her tone is sharper than she intends. But Janie was really beginning to enjoy the quiet.

Cabel doesn't speak for a moment, and Janie cringes. "Sorry," she says. "That didn't come out right."

"Okay, well," he says. But his voice is still bristly. "I was calling to see what time you wanted me to pick you up for that meeting we have with Captain. At two."

Janie sits up in the chair. "Oh, c.r.a.p!" She checks her watch. "s.h.i.+t, I forgot." She glances around the room to make sure everything's in place and she careens out the door, closing it but not locking it, just as Henry left it. "I'm . . . out for a run. I gotta hightail it home and grab a quick shower. How about one fifty-five?"

"Wow, that's cutting it close. We'll be late. You want me to pick you up from where you are now and get you home faster?"

Janie starts jogging down the driveway, her muscles stiff. "No," she says. "No, I can just meet you at the police station."

"What, you're taking the bus? Captain will be p.i.s.sed. I'm supposed to drive you. You know that. Come on, Janie." He sounds mad.

Janie's voice jiggles as she runs. She breathes out through pursed lips to avoid the st.i.tch she's already getting in her side. "I know," she says. "I know."

"Where are you?"

She slows to a walk. "You know, Cabe, I think . . . just . . . go without me," she says. "Okay? I'm not going."

"What thea"? Janie! Come on. Don't do this. I'll pick you up at one fifty-five. It'll be fine."

Janie keeps walking. "No," she says firmly. "I've got some stuff to do. I'll call her to explain. Just go."

"Buta"" Cabel sighs.

Janie's silent.

"Fine," he says. Hangs up without a good-bye.

Janie flips her phone shut and shoves it back in her pocket. "G.o.d," she says. "I don't know if I can do this."

She calls Captain as she walks back toward home.

"Everything okay, Hannagan?"

"Not really, sir," Janie says. Her voice quivers. "I'm not coming in today. I'm sorry."

Silence.

Janie stops walking. "I can't make it to the meeting. Ia"I think I made my decision."

There is the sound of her chair creaking and a soft sigh on the other end. "Okay. Well." She pauses. "Cabe?"

Janie drops to her haunches on the side of the road and squeezes her eyes shut. Bites her forefinger. Takes in a measured breath to steady her voice. "Not yet," she says. "Soon. I need a couple days to figure out what I do from here."

"Oh, Janie," Captain says.

1:34 p.m.

She stands on the road, not sure where to go now. Home, or back to Henry's. Her head tells her one thing.

But when her stomach growls, she knows the answer.

Doesn't feel right about eating her father's food. So she trudges to the bus stop. Thinking, always thinking.

She knows she's going to have to say good-bye to Cabel.

Forever.

It's just really hard to imagine doing it.

2:31 p.m.

At home, Janie fixes three sandwiches. She eats one, wraps the other two in plastic and stows them in her backpack. Dorothea makes a rare appearance, scrounging around in the refrigerator.

"You want me to make you a sandwich, Ma?" Janie says, not really wanting to. "I've got all the stuff out."

Dorothea dismisses the suggestion with a careless wave and a grunt, and grabs a can of beer instead. She shuffles back to her room.

And then the front door opens.

"Hey, Janers, you home?" It's Carrie.

Janie groans inwardly. She just wants to go back to Henry's house. "Hey, girl. What digs?"

"Nothin'." Carrie saunters into the kitchen and hoists herself up on the counter. Sticks her feet out. She's wearing flip-flops. "Check out my pedi. Aren't you so jel?"

Janie fixes her attention on Carrie's toes. "Totally! Really cute, Carrie." Janie fills up a water bottle at the tap and tosses that in her backpack too.

"You going somewhere?" Carrie looks a little disappointed.

"Yeah," Janie says.

"Cabe's?"

"No." Janie sighs. She'd been forced to lie to Carrie when on a.s.signment during their entire senior year. Doesn't want to now. "Can I trust you to keep a secret?"

"Der."

Janie smiles. "Ia"I found Henry's house. I'm going to go back out there and try to learn more about him."

"Sweet!" Carrie hops off the counter. "Can I come? I'll drive."

"Uh . . ." Janie says. She wants to be alone, but after trekking out to Henry's once already today, the thought of having a ride there and back is too tempting to say no. "Sure. Can you be ready to go, like, now?"

"I'm always ready to go. I'll go start up the little diva and meet you in the driveway."

2:50 p.m.

"So," Janie says from the pa.s.senger seat of the '77 Nova. "No plans with Stu tonight?"

"No." Carrie frowns as she steers the car out of town, following Janie's directions. "Why does everybody ask me that whenever they see me without him?"

"Because you're almost always with him?"

"So? I am my own person too. Is that all there is to talk about? Where Stu is?"

Janie sticks her head out the window to catch the breeze on her face and hopes for no dreamers. "Are you guys fighting or something?"

"No," Carrie says.

"Okay. So . . . when does school start for you?"

Carrie brightens. "Right after Labor Day. And it's going to be a blast. Finally! I get to learn about something I actually want to learn about."

"You'll be the best in your cla.s.s, Carrie. You got mad hair skillz."

"I do, don't I," she says. "Thank you." She turns her eyes from the road for a moment to look at Janie. They glimmer just a little. Maybe they're just watery from the wind. Or not.

Janie smiles, reaches her arm around Carrie's neck and gives her friend a little half-hug. Forgets that Carrie doesn't get a whole lot more encouragement at home than Janie gets.

Carrie pulls Ethel into the b.u.mpy driveway. Ethel protests in squeaks and groans, but Carrie presses onward. "Why the heck does he live all the way out here in freaking . . . freaking Saskatchewan?" Carrie says, giggling.

Janie doesn't bother to point out that the nearest Canadian province is actually Ontario. Nor that they were going south.

Outside of the car, Janie goes immediately to the house as Carrie takes it all ina"the overgrown bushes, the tiny, run-down cabin, the door left unlocked. "What, he doesn't lock it?"

"He didn'ta"at least not the last time he left."

"Well, yeah, I can see that. It's not like he lives in the 'hood, yadamean? Who comes way out here? It'd be a real c.r.a.pshoot. People out here'd either pull a gun on you or invite you for pot roast."

Carrie yammers on.

Janie ignores.

It's all good.

3:23 p.m.

Janie goes directly to the computer. Carrie b.u.mbles around the kitchen, snacking on raspberries from the refrigerator, but Janie doesn't pay any attention. The computer, still on since she left in such a hurry earlier, takes forever to wake back up, and another forever to get online with the dial-up access.

The dialing noise makes Carrie look over at Janie. "What are you doing on his computer, Janers? That's kinda, like, wrong, isn't it?" Carrie stands in the kitchen, hands on cupboard doors, picking up things and setting them down again.

"Nah," Janie lies. "He's my father. I'm allowed."

Carrie shrugs and moves on to the next cabinet.