“Mr. Keane, he’s dead and buried.” Luke moved closer to the door. He wanted to get away from this crazy old man.
“You’ve got to tell him what’s on your mind.”
Luke said, “I keep seeing him with that broadhead sticking out of his chest.”
“Son, your daddy’s not feeling any pain where he’s at. Let me tell you something.” He drew on the pipe and blew out a cloud of gray smoke. “What happened was an accident. Like I told you, go out to the woods, talk at him. Square things. I guarantee he’s not blaming you. In fact, he’s watching us right now, I’ll bet. Up there with the likes of Art Young, Saxton Pope and my own daddy, Lester Keane.
“You tell him Del Keane says, hey. And get my room ready. I’ll be joining him before too long.”
“I’ve got to go,” Luke said. He wanted to get out of there. He went through the door and let it slam behind him, walking fast and then running into town.
On the way back to the lodge, Kate looked over at Luke and said, “I saw you coming out of Del’s. How’s he doing?”
“He’s weird,” Luke said. “How old is he?”
“At least seventy, probably older.” She went right, taking the highway out of Northport. There were cherry orchards on both sides of the road.
Luke said, “No wonder…”
Kate glanced at him. “What do you mean?”
“He was talking about dying.”
“Something wrong with him?”
“He didn’t say,” Luke said.
“All I know is, he’s a strange old guy,” Kate said.
“And he doesn’t shower much,” Luke said, “I know that, too.” He grinned big.
“Your dad used to say every six months, whether he needed it or not.”
Luke grinned again. It had been a while since she’d seen him so relaxed, so animated, and it made her feel good, like he was his old self again. She wanted to hang on to this moment. Kate had always considered them close, good friends. He used to come home from school and tell her about something that happened in class-like the day they had a substitute teacher. Every time she turned her back to write on the board, everybody picked up their desk and moved it forward. Luke was laughing so hard he could barely tell it, describing the teacher’s reactions as she wondered what was going on. He told her about chanting “Ohh-eee-ah! Ee ohh — ah!” from The Wizard of Oz. You could do it with your mouth closed, looking right at the teacher, and he’d freak ’cause he didn’t know where it was coming from. He told her about Lauren, his first real girlfriend, admitting he liked her a lot and thought about her all the time and wondered if that was normal. They talked about music and movies and sports: tennis and the Detroit Tigers.
“Mr. Keane said his dad died when he was my age,” Luke said. “At first I thought he was crazy, but what he said makes sense.”
She glanced at him. “What did he say?”
They were passing Woolsey on the left, the world’s smallest airport. Luke was turned toward her in his seat.
“I should talk to Dad. Go out in the woods and tell him what I think, what’s on my mind.”
Hearing it bothered her a little. This old coot with his backwoods psychology got through to Luke, made a positive impression with one conversation. Something a trained psychiatrist hadn’t been able to do in almost seven months of sessions. Something she hadn’t been able to do either. But if Del Keane’s advice could help Luke, she was all for it.
When they pulled up in front of the lodge, Jack was there, leaning against the trunk of his car, a toothpick sticking out of his mouth. Luke looked over at her but didn’t say anything. She couldn’t read him, couldn’t tell if Jack showing up bothered him or not. “I didn’t invite him,” Kate said. “If that’s what you’re thinking.”
“It’s okay, Mom,” Luke said. He sounded normal, out of his funk for the first time in months. He got out of the Land Rover and went in the lodge.
“I decided I’d come up, take my chances,” Jack said. “I got a motel room down the road in case you’re worried.”
Kate said, “How’d you know I was up here?”
“I called Maureen.”
“That’s right, she gave you a card, didn’t she? She gives everyone her card. You want to come in and see the place?”
He followed her inside, standing in the main room that had to be fifty by fifty, varnished log walls, and a wood-plank floor partially covered by a large Oriental rug. There was a furniture grouping-couches and chairs and end tables and lamps-in front of a huge fieldstone fireplace you could walk into. There was a staircase that led up to the second level-and above that, a thirty-foot beamed cathedral ceiling supported by log trusses.
“The kitchen and breakfast room are over there,” Kate said, pointing to the opposite side of the room.
He looked past the table and chairs into the kitchen. There was a stainless-steel industrial stove and Sub-Zero refrigerator-freezer. He liked it, big open floor plan.
Jack said, “How many bedrooms?”
“Four. All upstairs.”
Kate took a check out of her purse and handed it to him. “I was going to give this to you earlier, but it slipped my mind. For your real estate deal.”
Jack held it in his hand. Stared at it-fifty thousand.
“I couldn’t remember the name of your company,” Kate said.
“Eldorado Estates,” Jack said.
“You can fill it in,” Kate said. “I’m sure there will be some papers to sign, huh? You have them with you?”
Jack couldn’t believe it. “Why’d you change your mind?”
“I didn’t. You obviously think it’s a good deal. So I’d like to take advantage of it and help you out.”
Jack shook his head.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” Jack said. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
Surprised didn’t begin to say it. He was floored. He was thinking of the things he could do with fifty thousand dollars-cash the check, be on his way. He saw himself on the beach in Cabo, living like a king for years in Mexico. But, on the flip side, he saw the money running out, and then what? Fifty grand sounded like a lot to him at the moment, but wasn’t enough to even make it interesting.
Jack handed the check back to her. “You’re too late. Deal closed yesterday at five o’clock.”
“You sure?”
No, not completely, but he said, “Yeah, positive.”
The way Jack looked at it, all he had to do was win her back and there’d be a whole lot more than fifty grand.
Teddy got a tree stand-gun hunter’s special, plus climbing spurs and T-pads and seven-by-fifty Bushnell binoculars-at an outfitter in Northport. The owner was an old guy with a long gray beard, reminded Teddy of the bass player in ZZ Top. Man smelled like dead meat his dad used to hang in the cellar. Jesus, he was ripe. It was a strange place, filled with animal heads.
Old guy said, “You’re a little early for deer season.”
Teddy-thinking, you can’t even buy a goddamn tree stand without somebody getting in your business-said, “Am I too early to see grosbeaks and warblers?”
The old guy perked up and said, “Ever see a Kirtland’s warbler?”
“Kirtland’s warbler?” Teddy said, pretending to be interested. “No, I don’t believe I have.”
“And you’re not going to unless you go downstate between Grayling and Mio,” he said, pointing at Teddy with the mouthpiece of his pipe.
Old graybeard was a real sexual intellectual, a fucking know-it-all. Teddy said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Only eight hundred pairs still in existence,” he said, wanting to tell Teddy every goddamn thing he knew about them.
That had all happened earlier. Now he was forty feet off the ground, setting in the tree lounge, drinking an MGD, watching Jack’s rich lady’s place that was about thirty yards away, just inside the tree line, and it was some place. Neither DeJuan nor Celeste knew from tree stands, so Teddy was elected.
Got up before dawn, drove over, walked a couple miles through the woods and found the tree.