Michael Thomas Ford

What We Remember


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opened his eyes. He seemed to be looking at his sister through a haze. She was blurry, indistinct, a ghost. Her voice was coming from far away. He blinked, and the fog lifted like a curtain going up on a play. Celeste’s face came into focus, and he stared at her mouth.

      “What else can there be?” his mother asked. “You’ve already told me he’s dead. Seems to me that’s the end of it.”

      Billy saw his sister look at her husband. Nate leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and folding his hands. “Ada, we didn’t just find Dan in those woods. We found him in a box.”

      “A box?” Ada repeated. “What do you mean, a box?”

      “Dan was buried inside a trunk,” said Nate.

      Billy sat up. “What?” he said.

      Nate ignored him, speaking directly to Ada.

      “Somebody put Dan into a box—a trunk, actually—and buried him on the land where Nicky Turner is building his cabin,” he said.

      “How would he get inside a trunk?” asked Ada. She gave a short laugh, as if she’d just realized that someone had played a joke on her.

      “Dad killed himself,” Billy said. “We all know that.”

      This time Nate and Celeste did look at him. Celeste in particular looked angry. By speaking about his father’s death he’d broken the agreement that had existed between the members of the family since that day seven years ago. But he didn’t care. Celeste could go fuck herself. Nate too. Especially Nate.

      “He killed himself,” Billy repeated. “How the fuck would he get inside a trunk and bury himself in Nicky Turner’s lot?”

      “He didn’t kill himself,” said Nate. “Someone else killed him.”

      Stunned, Billy looked to his mother. She held her coffee mug in her hands, and she was looking out the window. “That squirrel has been at the suet again,” she said.

      “Mom,” said Celeste. “Did you hear what Nate—”

      “I heard him,” Ada interrupted. “But he’s wrong. I have the letter.”

      “I wish I was wrong, Mom,” said Nate. “But I’m not. Dan didn’t kill himself.”

      Ada shook her head. “No one would kill Dan,” she said. “No one could. He would never let them.”

      Billy coughed. He felt sick, as if he might throw up the coffee and eggs in his stomach. His chest hurt. He felt another cough coming on and tried to suppress it. But it was too strong for him, and he began hacking. His sister and his brother-in-law shot him annoyed looks but said nothing.

      “No,” his mother said decisively. “You’re wrong. That must not be Dan in that…box.” She said the last word softly, letting it die in the still air. “It must be someone else.”

      Celeste got up and walked over to Ada. Putting her hand on her mother’s shoulder, she said, “It’s Dad, Mom. He’s wearing his uniform.”

      “How do you know what he’s wearing?” Ada snapped.

      Celeste looked across the table at Nate. Billy saw Nate nod curtly.

      “I’ve seen him,” said Celeste.

      “You’ve seen him?” Billy repeated.

      Celeste continued speaking to their mother. “I wanted to be sure before we told you. At first I didn’t want to believe Nate, either. But it’s him, Mom. It really is.”

      Ada’s face crumpled. She began to cry. That’s the first time I’ve seen her cry since he died, Billy thought. He wished he could go and put his arms around his mother. But Celeste had already claimed her.

      “Why did you have to tell me?” Ada said. She looked up. “It was all over,” she said. “I let him go. Now…”

      She lowered her eyes once more. Billy saw her shoulders buckle as more tears came. Say something! he telegraphed at Celeste, who remained motionless with her hands on their mother’s shoulders.

      “What about the letter?” he said, looking at Nate.

      “That’s one of the questions we’re going to have to answer,” Nate answered. “It will all be part of the investigation.”

      Ada looked up. Her eyes were wet. “Investigation?” she said weakly.

      Nate nodded. “There will have to be an investigation,” he said. “Now that this is a murder case.”

      Ada slammed her hand on the table. “No!” she said. She pointed a finger at her son-in-law. “You leave this alone! Do you hear me?”

      “Mom—” Celeste began.

      “I said no,” Ada interrupted. “There’s no need to bring all of that up again. It won’t change anything.”

      “But Mom,” Celeste said, “if Dad was murdered, then Nate has to find out who did it.”

      “I don’t care who did it!” Ada cried. She looked at Billy. “I don’t care,” she said, more softly.

      It’s all right, Billy thought, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring look. The fog had descended again, and it was difficult to concentrate.

      “It’s my job, Mom,” he heard Nate say. “It’s my responsibility to find out what happened to Dan.”

      “I know this is hard,” Celeste told her mother. “It’s hard for all of us.”

      Celeste looked at Billy. He realized that she wanted him to say something to back her up. But he was so tired. All he wanted to do now was go lie down and sleep. Just for a little while. Until his head cleared.

      Shaking her head in obvious irritation, Celeste pulled out the chair between Billy and Ada and sat down. She took one of Ada’s hands in hers and held it, her back to Billy.

      “Mom, you have to be prepared for the attention this is going to get. Once people find out that Dad was murdered, it’s going to get crazy.”

      “Don’t tell them,” Ada said. “They don’t need to know our business.”

      “You know I can’t do that, Ada,” said Nate.

      The room fell silent. Billy knew that his mother had accepted the situation, although something still didn’t feel right. He searched his fluttering thoughts, trying to pin one down as if trying to catch a moth in a jar. Something bothered him, but he couldn’t get his mind to stop tumbling headlong through space to figure out what it was.

      “James is coming, Mom,” Celeste said, breaking the quiet. “He should be here soon.”

      Billy heard himself laugh. James, he thought. Of course James is coming. It’s always James to the rescue. He had the sudden image of his older brother galloping across the prairie on a horse, his white hat shining in the sun. He laughed again.

      “What’s wrong with you?” Celeste asked.

      Billy looked at her. “Nothing,” he said. “Nothing at all. I’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine. James will be here and everything will be fine.” He emphasized the last word, and saw his sister’s jaw tighten.

      “Billy, why don’t you go get some rest,” Nate suggested. “You look beat.”

      “Do I?” asked Billy. “Do I look beat, Nate? That’s weird, because like I told my sister, I feel just fine.”

      “Billy,” Nate said. His voice was heavy with warning.

      “Fuck you,” said Billy. “I’m not married to you. And if anyone doesn’t belong here it’s you. You’re not family.”

      “I’m the sheriff,” Nate replied. “And in case you’ve forgotten, your father and my father were best friends.”