Twenty-Six by Leo McKay Read Free Book Online Page A

people every time we go through it. But it’s been the effect on the girls that I’ve really been worried about. It’s just not right and we both want better than that for them
.
    I’ll call next week and give you a number where you can reach us
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    She almost wrote “Love” before her name at the bottom of the note, but realized how strange that would look to him.
    The girls had migrated to her bed and were both asleep, curled beneath the ragged quilts when she entered the room. Not wanting to disturb them by turning on the overhead light, she crawled into the corner where the desk lamp stood on the floor. She switched on the lamp, aiming the broad end of its cone-shaped shade at the nearby wall, and changed into her flannel nightgown in the subdued light. She moved Melanie to the edge of the mattress and rolled Kate gently beside her to make room for herself. She set the alarm on the clock radio for seven, switched off the light, and crawled wearily between the sheets. She lay a short time awake, her eyes open in the total darkness.
    She remembered what this house had looked like the day they’d moved in, how big it had seemed compared to the apartment they were moving out of, how hopeful she’d been of her future here, how her life had seemed to be taking a shape she’d felt positively about.
    She thought back to when she and Arvel had first started dating. There had been a dance for which they’d gotten dressedup: she in a gown of some sort, he in a dark suit with a white boutonniere in the lapel. It must have been a wedding party, what else would he have dressed up for? They had only been seeing each other a short time, and she could remember the remarkable sight of him in that suit: so large and powerful a man somehow tamed or gentled by his attire. She remembered dancing close with him that night and the soft way he spoke in her ear as he held her. That tender, beautiful side of her husband was real. It was a part of him she’d always tried to nurture.
    She’d been optimistic when he’d started working in the mine. Their financial troubles ended overnight. She saw Arvel’s self-confidence surfacing, especially since his recent work on the organization drive for the union.
    But they always found themselves shouting at each other. Drinking had been such a large part of his life for so long that he never managed to step away from it completely. Always some irresponsible action managed to further erode her faith in him.
    She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing slowly through her nose, and before long she drifted into an uneasy sleep.
    It was almost five thirty when she opened her eyes. Something seemed to have happened. A motion or a noise. She sat up in bed and listened, then put her head back to the pillow and drifted off again.
    It was the phone that woke her next, what seemed like a very short time later. She staggered to the kitchen and picked up the receiver.
    “Hello,” she said.
    “Is Arvel at home?” a woman asked. She offered no explanation of who she was.
    “No, he’s not,” Jackie said. “Who’s calling?”
    “Is he at work, today?” the voice said.
    “I’m not …” Jackie hesitated. “I’m not exactly sure, but I think he’s twelve to eight this morning. Who is this?”
    There was a click, and the line went dead.

M eta had drunk her fill of Tokyo again. She took the secret key from its hook inside the cupboard, climbed into the elevator, and pressed the button for the twelfth floor. As the ancient lift creaked its way to the top, she prayed no one else would get on. She wanted a Japanese-free zone for herself, a small space around her with only her and her own cultural expectations in it. She had to be secretive on her way to the roof anyway, as she did not want anyone to see that she had a key. She was one of the only residents of the building to have one. Yuka, her neighbour from across the hall, was the building’s unofficial superintendent, and had surreptitiously