“Does Iris think he’s innocent, too?”she asks.
”I have no idea.”
“Really? No idea?The whole county is obsessed with the case and you two have never mentioned it?That’s interesting.What do you talk about, then?”
“I don’t know.Nothing.”
“Nothing?You talk about nothing?You were at her house for a day and a night talking aboutnothing?”
“Don’t interrogate me, Kate.”
“You can’t invoke your FifthAmendment rights in bed, buddy boy.All constitutional rights are waived between the sheets.”
“Then maybe I should get up.I don’t like being without my constitutional rights.”
“Ifyou leave this bed…”
“Kate, this is insane.Can we please just sleep? O.J.’s asleep, the jury’s sleeping, the DA, everyone is.”He waits for an answer, counts to three, and then closes his eyes, and when he opens them again it’s morning, and he’s alone.
Daniel and Kate collect buckets ofsnow, using some ofit to flush their toilets, and melting a portion to use as drinking water.Kate, who is usu-ally glad to allow Daniel to look after Ruby, is today somewhat posses-sive ofthe little girl;it leads Daniel to believe that she is trying to give him a sense ofwhat his future will be like without the love ofRuby as a constant in his life.But other than this, her demeanor shows little oflast night’s suspiciousness and anger.When they are collecting the snow, she is playful, throwing little handfuls ofit at Daniel.She makes him coffee.
She is full ofpraise for the new morning fire in the hearth.Nevertheless, by eleven that morning Daniel is feeling so confined and isolated in their house, and so wild with desire to see Iris, that he feels his level offrus-tration is starting to become hazardous not only from a psychological standpoint but even from a medical one.
He must get out ofhere.Living in these conditions, with these new dictates ofcommunality and wall-to-wall togetherness, makes it impos-sible to even call Iris.He casts desperately about in his mind, trying to think ofa way to absent himself and somehow make it into town, and then, at last, at around noon, he goes upstairs to their sad and chilly bed-room, where there is a working telephone, and he calls Ferguson Rich-mond.
“Ferguson,”he says,“Daniel Emerson here.I wonder ifI could ask you a huge favor? Ifyou’re going to be out and around on your snow-mobile, I wonder ifyou could come get me at my house and bring me into town.”
“No problem,”Ferguson says without hesitating.“When do you need to go? Now?”
Daniel is overcome by Ferguson’s generosity and lack ofinquisitive-
ness.“Yes,”he says, sitting on the edge ofthe bed,“now would be fine.
Anytime.Thank you so much.”
He goes back downstairs, where Kate and Ruby are in the kitchen.
Ruby is on the floor, playing with plastic horses, and Kate is melting some snow in a large cast-iron pot.She plans to fill the sink so that every-one can wash their hands and face.
“Who were you calling?”she asks casually enough.
”Ferguson Richmond,”Daniel says.
”SirFerguson Richmond,”Kate says.She likes to make fun ofthe local gentry, but her own southern background, with its emphasis on fam-ily and gentility, gives her an enduring interest in such things, and Daniel has always suspected that she admires theWindsor County aristocrats more than she lets on.“So what is he?Your new best friend?”
“He’s actually going to do me a tremendous favor.He’s coming out here on his snowmobile and he’s taking me into town.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“It’s very nice ofhim.”
“Yes.It’s amazing.How far away is he? Eight miles, ten?”
“I don’t know.I guess ten.It’s what people always say about him.He’s this total reactionary and a snob, but ifyou actually put something right in front ofhim, a problem, a person in need, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you.He’s got bad ideas, but good feelings.He’s got this deep, al-most heroic generosity.”
Ruby looks up from her horses.Her eyes are blurred and her skin is mottled;she looks like an abandoned child.“Where are you going?”she asks Daniel.She furrows her brow, purses her lips, to let him know she is worried.
“I need to go to work, sweetie,”he says.“I have to go to my office.”
“I want to go, too,”she says.
”Do you want to?”Kate asks the child.“Take a ride with Daniel and see what’s going on out there? Maybe some stores are open and Daniel can get you some Jolly Ranchers.”
Ruby begins to pick up her toys, in preparation for leaving.
Daniel is appalled that Kate would use Ruby in such a cynical, manipulative fashion.
“I’m just going to my office,”he says to Ruby.
”It’s okay,”she says.
He smiles, relieved.
”Your office is fun,”Ruby says.
”What are you doing?”he asks Kate, lifting his hands in exasperation.
”What amIdoing? Whatareyoudoing?”
“I am buried in paperwork.I have a dozen crises brewing, and a dozen more on the horizon, and I have no choice, I have to get to my office.”
“Ofcourse you do.But Ruby’s not going to stop you from doing your paperwork.And that way she’ll be a little less stir crazy.”
“I want to go, too,”Ruby says.
”And I’ll be able to get a little writing done,”Kate continues.“Or at least try.”
“You’re going to put her on the back ofa snowmobile for ten miles?”
“It was fun,”says Ruby.
”You put her on the back ofthe very same snowmobile,”Kate says,
“driven by the very same Samaritan who’s coming to rescue you.”
“That was an emergency.I was trying to get her home.I was trying to do the right thing.Jesus.”
“Please,”says Ruby.“It was so fun.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie.It’s just not going to work.”
“I don’t see why not,”says Kate.
”Kate, you’re being ridiculous.Really.Enough.”
“It’s so boring here,”says Ruby.
”No!”Daniel says, his voice rising with temper and desperation.In the stillness ofthe house, it sounds as ifhe has shouted at the top ofhis voice.
Kate smiles a terrible, wounded, superior smile and shakes her head.
“One question,”she says.“How are you going to get back home after your…um, paperwork?”
“I’ll get back.”He is about to sayTrust me,but he stops himself.
Daniel occupies himself while waiting for Ferguson by building up the fire and bringing in more wood.Nearly an hour passes, during which he almost loses hope ofFerguson arriving, but then he hears the manic whine ofthe snowmobile, and he races out to meet Ferguson, shouting his good-byes over his shoulder.
On the way into town, Ferguson fills Daniel in on the recovery effort.Though no snow has fallen since yesterday, trees continue to topple.
Highway crews and repair crews from the power company have made virtually no progress in clearing the roads.The trouble has not been the amount ofsnow—not much more than a foot has fallen—but that the thousands oftrees on the ground have made every emergency vehicle virtually useless.Squads ofmen with chain-saws are all over the county—they’ve come in from every county in the state, as well as Con-necticut, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Vermont, and New Hampshire—and they are cutting up and removing the slaughtered trees one by one.Estimates are that the middle oftown should be electrified either by tonight or tomorrow morning;beyond that, some areas aren’t expected to have power for another three or four days, though Ferguson guesses it’ll be longer than that.
Ferguson is wearing a dark leather jacket, weathered and cracked, thick wool pants, and a pair ofboots that look as ifthey’d once belonged to a soldier in the FirstWorldWar.The smell ofgasoline and oil is all over him.He wears amber-tinted ski goggles that are so smudged and scratched it’s a wonder he can see anything through them.His ears are as bright as freshly boiled shrimps and his graying hair whips back and forth in the wind as he speeds across a pasture, dodging trees, and then onto what Daniel guesses is Route100,though all that indicates that it is a road at all are the occasional mailboxes standing iced and empty on their cedar stalks.