End of the Road (Ghost Stories Trilogy #1) Page 2
There wasn’t any shade outside of city hall and the sun baked us while we waited. I stared up at the eagles carved in the stone on each side of the arched entrance. They acted like guardians to the giant building and their frozen stares observing the weary masses lining the steps below. One by one we filed inside through heavy art deco style bronze doors. Cool air caressed my heated cheeks. I had forgotten city hall had been upgraded with air conditioning. Now out of the sun, I didn’t mind the slow progress. I was ushered into a room where a long table had been set up. Three men in crisp business suits sat behind the table. As soon as one man was free the next person in line stepped forward. Finally it was my turn.
“Name?” the man, who wasn’t much older than me, barked.
“Lawrence Cranston,” I said and pushed my glasses further up my nose.
“Date of birth?”
“April 13, 1899.”
The man set his pencil down and looked across the table at me. “You’re too old.”
“Please, I’m able bodied. There must be someone I can talk to. Can’t we work around this?’
“I’m sorry, but those are the guidelines. Besides, you don’t seem the type that’s used to manual labor. What’s your background, anyway?”
“I’m an accountant.”
“Again, I’m sorry, but you’re too old.” Just then a man leaning against the wall behind the row of tables straightened up and walked over. Judging by his commanding presence and well-fitted suit, I assumed he was a supervisor. He bent over and whispered something into the ear of the man interviewing me.
“Just a minute,” my interviewer said and stood up. He walked away with the other man where they conferred in private.
I stayed seated and tapped my fingers on the table top, not taking my eyes off of the two men. A few minutes later the interviewer returned. He actually smiled when he took his seat. I considered this a good sign.
“So you’re an accountant?” he asked, picking up right where we left off.
“Yes sir. I earned my degree at Boston College. I have my own business here, well, I did until recently.”
“There’s a lot of that going around,” he said while scratching the back of his neck with the pencil. He reviewed the form in front of him then considered me again.
“I can’t get you on board as a laborer…” The man began to shake his head and I knew I only had a few seconds to sway his decision.
“Please, I’m a fast learner and great with numbers. Reading the schematics of the blueprints and the measurements will be easy.” I held my breath as the man jotted something down on my form, prepared to get down on my knees and beg if that’s what it took.
“But, we do need someone with a finance background to oversee payroll and accounts for the job site.” His smile was bigger this time. “Are you interested?”
At first I thought I had misunderstood him and sat there with my eyes squinted in confusion. Fortunately I gathered my wits about me in time to accept before the man could renege on the offer.
“I am - thank you!”
“Sign here and be up in Flagstaff two Mondays from now at 7:00 a.m. sharp. Here’s the location and work detail.” He handed me a packet of papers after I signed the bottom of the form. “Oh and good luck,” he said and shook my hand.
I wanted to rush right home and tell Helen the good news, but I had one final piece of business to attend to. Harold Garfield owed me for work and he had been avoiding me for well over a year. The last time our paths crossed, he ignored me completely. I learned he planned on attending the livestock auction to sell some of his herd. I also knew he wouldn’t be expecting me to show up there. Now that I had a job, getting to Flagstaff was my next concern. If Garfield paid off any of his debt, we’d be able to afford gas for the Ford and some extra food.
A small crowd had gathered, but the frenetic energy that usually accompanied the auction was missing. The odor of manure and of animals kept in close quarters was a potent and suffocating combination, which made my eyes water. Flies buzzed incessantly around my head, the air thick with them and I kept my mouth closed to avoid breathing any in. I spotted Harold’s red face under a wide brimmed, straw colored Stetson. Beads of sweat dripped down from under the brim. With little effort, I maneuvered through to Harold’s side. He was so absorbed in the auction, he didn’t see me approach.
“Good morning, Harold.”
He jumped when he saw me, causing his double chin to jiggle. “Cranston, this is the last place I’d expect to find you.” The last word was drawn out with his drawl. Harold had grown up in Texas and moved to Arizona in order to capitalize on the beef opportunity. Up until the depression he had a successful slaughterhouse business and one of the largest herds in the state. He may have lost a lot of things, but he never lost his Texas accent. Judging by his sizeable girth, he didn’t lack food either. He was one of the few to have actually gotten fatter during lean times.
“You’re a hard man to track down,” I said.
“Gotta keep busy, especially now. Tough times, Cranston, very tough times.”
“Yes, I’m well aware,” I responded. “Which is why I am here, you still owe me for services and I need the funds.”
“Cranston, we’ve been over this, remember? You were acting as my financial advisor and you advised me to put my earnings in the bank. The banks were the first to go belly up and all my money was lost; seems to me like you didn’t do your job.” Harold’s face changed to a deeper scarlet, white spots dotted the hollows of his cheeks and he emphasized his last point by jabbing a thick forefinger into my chest.
“What happened with the banks couldn’t be predicted. How is that my fault? You know I lost all of my money too!”
“We’re even then,” he sneered and turned his attention back to the auction. Harold intimidated me and he knew it, but I needed the money that he owed me.
“Harold, we had an agreement and you’re not holding up your end,” I said to his back with a steady voice.
“The agreement became null and void the moment you lost my money!” He thundered and whipped around to face me again. I took a step backwards and bumped into Buck Carrington, one of Harold’s main competitors.
“Is Harold giving you a problem Mr. Cranston?”
“Please, call me Lawrence, and we’re just resolving some unfinished business.” I stood up straighter and smoothed down my jacket.
“How much does Harold owe you?”
“Excuse me, Mr. Carrington,” I responded and shoved my glasses back up my nose into place, “but it really isn’t any of your concern.”
“Sure is now, I’m thinking about buying out Harold, you see, and need to know if he has any outstanding debts that will come back and bite me in the ass.”
I choked on a laugh at Buck’s candor. For a simply dressed and soft spoken man, he sure didn’t mince words.
Harold had cooled down considerably, but he shifted his glare from Buck to look at me with bitter contempt in his bloodshot eyes.
“Oh, well in that case, he owes me two hundred dollars. It’s for services rendered in 1928 and ’29.”
“Harold, you are a stubborn son of a bitch!” Carrington said with a shake of his head. He pulled out his wallet, a worn square of leather and counted out some bills. “Consider him settled up.” He handed me two hundred dollars.
“I will Mr. Carrington, thank you.” It had been a while since I handled that much money and I quickly placed it in my wallet before too many eyes observed the transaction.
“Once you do business with me, you call me Buck.” He held out his hand I shook it. It was rough with callouses and his grip firm; a working man’s hand.
“Harold,” I said and he leered at me. “I can’t say it’s been a pleasure doing business with you, but I am sorry for the way everything turned out. Good luck to you.”
I turned and walked away, past the pens spilling over with straw and manure, glad to be leaving for fresher air.
There was a spring to m
y step and the hot walk from the rail station didn’t drag by at the usual pace. This time I had good news to bring home. It seemed our fortunes were changing for the better.
Chapter Four
“Helen!” I called as I ran down the front walk.
The front screen door slammed shut behind her as she came out onto the porch. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing! Everything is great!” I swept her up and spun her around, planting a kiss on her lips before setting her back down.
“Lawrence, what’s come over you?” She giggled and pressed against me.
“I got a job with the CCC and Garfield settled his debt. Well, Buck Carrington paid it for him, but either way we have cash!”
“Shhh…the neighbors might hear.” She put the tips of two fingers over my mouth.
“What neighbors?” I joked and kissed her fingertips. The homes on either side of us had been abandoned for over a year.
“Stop, you’re terrible,” she swatted at me and laughed. “Does this mean we’re moving?”
“Yes, I refuse to leave you and the kids here alone and unprotected. We go on this adventure together.”
“When?”
When I told her we had to be in Flagstaff in two weeks, her eyebrows pinched together causing a deep crease to form in the middle of her forehead.
“That doesn’t give us a lot of time to pack. How long will we be up there? We can leave some of our things here and come back.”
I took her hands in mine and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Helen, we’re not coming back. When we leave, we’re surrendering the house.”
“What?”
“Besides people will steal, thinking we’ve abandoned the place.”
“The place? This is our home, Lawrence. We picked it out, had it built.”
“There’s something I need to tell you.” Releasing one of her hands, I reached up and caressed her cheek. “We were doing okay up until six months ago, but I haven’t paid the mortgage in five months. Either way we’re losing the house.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it with a snap. Her usually full lips formed a straight line when she pressed them together.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but you’ve been worried enough. Besides I manage the finances, this was my responsibility.”
Her eyes glittered with tears when she turned away from me and I could see she was struggling to keep them in check. She tilted her head back slightly and blinked.
“We have a lot to do then,” she said finally, her voice rough with emotion. “Let’s tell the children.”
“In a minute; I want to discuss something with you first.”
“What else haven’t you told me, Lawrence?” Her tone was sharp, something I wasn’t used to hearing.
“This opportunity in Flagstaff is a good one and I’ll be making a dollar more an hour than the laborers. I think we should save as much as we can and move back East.”
This was something I knew Helen wanted more than keeping our house. Adjusting to Phoenix had been difficult for her. While the climate was supposed to be good for her asthma, she missed the bustling streets of Boston and damp, foggy days. Her jaw softened and she let the tears spill.
“Oh Lawrence, don’t kid!”
“I’m not.”
“But…what about my asthma?”
“We’ll figure something out. Father has made great progress with his research. When the economy went south, it made me realize just how far away we are from our families.”
“I know. It’s been so hard these past few years. Are you serious? Because if you’re not I’ll be so mad at you!”
I laughed when she playfully swatted at my chest again and drew her towards me for a kiss. I cupped her face in my hands and said, “I’m serious,” before lowering my lips to hers. While they were pressed together I felt her smile. At that moment I was so thankful for what we lacked in material possessions, we more than compensated for with our love.
We stood in the middle of the kitchen, our arms wrapped loosely around each other, Helen’s head on my shoulder, Sara and Teddy’s giggles drifting up from the basement. We had come close to losing everything and I vowed to keep our family together.
“Are you hungry?” Helen murmured into the collar of my suit jacket.
They had already eaten lunch, but I was famished and Helen set a hardboiled egg, a slice of toast and an orange at my place setting. She called the children upstairs and we filled them in on the news while I ate.
Their reaction was a mixture of sadness, resignation and a little bit of excitement. I’m glad that Helen and I had prepared them for the possibility of moving. Helen started making a list of what needed to be done before our departure. We were busy discussing when someone knocked on the front door.
“Lawrence?” A male voice called through the screen door.
I set my napkin on the table and stood up. Helen had already left to let our guest in. She walked into the kitchen with John Keeley following close behind.
“He has our horse?”
“Right! In all of the excitement I forgot you were bringing one by.”
I shook John’s hand and we went out front. The mare, Sally, chewed on a clump of dried grass and regarded me with large brown eyes. She had begun to turn gray around her mouth and some of her ribs were showing under her taut skin, but overall she appeared to be fairly healthy.
“Sorry I can’t do more for you Lawrence.”
“I understand. Are you going to Flagstaff too?”
“Nope, too old. Thought I’d give it a try, but I couldn’t fool them.” He smiled and his eyes disappeared into thick wrinkles. With his white hair and leathery skin, he didn’t look a day under sixty and I wasn’t surprised he had been turned away.
“Well, best of luck to you and Katherine. We have to be up there in two weeks.”
“Good luck to you and your family. I’m glad things are working out for you,” John said as he hoisted himself up on another horse, a tall black one with a glossy coat and not a single rib showing. He tipped his straw cowboy hat at me and I waved farewell as he trotted down the street.
Sara and Teddy bounded out of the house to inspect Sally. She chewed and stared, not fazed at all by the tiny hands patting her sides. She bumped her nose into Teddy’s thick brown hair and exhaled. He laughed and twitched his shoulder up to scratch his ear. Sara jumped up and down.
“Can I ride her, Daddy?”
“No sweetheart, she seems to be hungry plus we don’t have a saddle your size. You can help me bring her into the backyard though.”
Both Teddy and Sara grabbed her bridle, led her up the gravel driveway and around to the backyard. I opened the gate and closed it securely behind as soon as Sally was through.
She took to the garden like a fish to water and was soon munching on carrot greens.
“Gee, she is really hungry,” Teddy commented.
I feared for the garden, but we weren’t going to be there much longer. What we were going to do with Sally presented another issue.
“We could sell her,” Helen suggested when we lay in bed later that night. Even with the fan it was too hot to sleep, plus both of us were feeling the burden of the move.
“I thought of that, but before actually seeing Sally. The only reason someone will buy an old horse like her is for food or glue and I can’t do that, besides the children are already attached.”
“I don’t think they’re the only ones,” she said and nudged my side with her elbow. “We can’t afford to take her with us.”
“I know. Let’s see what this week brings. I’ll ask around.”
“Okay,” she kissed my cheek and rolled over. A few minutes later her steady, soft breathing filled the room. I always envied her ability to fall asleep so easily. I spent the next couple of hours staring at the ceiling, willing sleep to come.
At some point in the middle of the night, Helen sought me out and I awoke to her body pressed against mine as she place
d soft kisses along my jawline. Turning my head, I captured her lips, drawing her into a deep kiss. She sighed and pressed closer. Rolling her onto her back, I bunched her nightgown up around her hips and settled between her legs as she pulled down my pajama bottoms. I entered her and she let out a faint gasp, her nails biting into the skin on my shoulders. Wordlessly, we moved together. Helen tilted her head to kiss me again and that’s when I saw tears glistening in the moonlight.
“Shhh, my love, we’re going to be fine,” I whispered to her and she closed her eyes before arching against me, a smile curling up her lips. She must have needed our connection and I didn’t realize how badly I did too until we lay there afterwards, drowsy and satisfied, on sweat dampened sheets.
The next morning I woke up perspiring. The familiar whir of our fan was missing. Helen was already out of bed and I wandered down the hall to the kitchen. She was sitting at the table, the crease between her eyebrows had returned.
“What’s wrong?”
“The electricity has been shut off. I can’t even percolate coffee on the stove.”
“Damn it! I thought we’d have more time. I’ll go downtown and pay our bill using some of the money from Garfield.”
“Sally practically decimated the garden overnight. She needs feed and we need food.”
“Okay, let’s all go. You can buy groceries while I take care of the bill.”
The prospect of getting out of the house cheered Helen and she went to get ready. I took a cold shower, indoor plumbing being one of the modern conveniences we included when we had our house built and quickly got dressed.
Helen and the children were piled into the car. I slid into the driver’s seat, engaged the hand brake, turned the key to battery in the ignition, and stepped on the starter, but the engine didn’t start, just clicked. I tried again, checking the choke and the throttle, and still nothing happened. I didn’t know anything mechanically about cars, but assumed that it didn’t even have enough gas to turn over the engine.
I smacked the palms of my hands against the steering wheel and turned to Helen.
“Sorry, I’m going to have to find a gas station.”