50
GAFFER'S RIDGE
EAGLE'S NEST
FRIDAY, NOON
Rafer Bodine faced his mother across the dining room table, his roast beef sandwich between them. His wrist was in a cast, but it still hurt in spite of the three aspirin. The doctor had said he didn’t need anything stronger, even for the headaches, the idiot.
Normally he loved the horseradish his mother smeared on the roast beef, but today he didn’t notice. He was too scared and too angry at himself for being such a screwup. Without thought, he took another bite, chewed, wishing there were something he could do to stop the madness, to stop that FBI agent, Hammersmith, but he couldn’t think of anything.
Cyndia said, “Rafer, tell me you believe me, tell me you understand I had no choice but to hurt that FBI agent, to teach them all a lesson.”
Rafer stared at his mother. She was concerned about what he thought, about anything? “Pa said you shouldn’t have attacked her like that, with your gift. He said showing off your powers, and to the FBI, wasn’t smart.” He put down his sandwich, wondering if he’d said too much, looked at the cast on his wrist, winced.
Cyndia sighed, tapped her fingertips on the table. “I suppose your father is right. I should have showed some restraint. But, Rafer, they made me really mad, with all their poking and prodding, and their ridiculous arrogance—their disrespect.” She shrugged, then added, her voice as indifferent as her shrug, “Well, no matter, it’s over and done with.”
He wished he could dismiss the things he’d done like she could. Over and done and forget it. It was only an afterthought. Instead, Rafer felt so guilty, he couldn’t hold it in. “I’m sorry, Ma, look what I’ve brought down on you. But that journalist, she scared me so bad, I panicked.”
Cyndia laid her hand lightly on Rafer’s cast, pressed in just a bit until he winced. He didn’t pull away, didn’t say a word. He understood her need to correct him, and he accepted it. She said, her voice gentle and as cold as the mountains in winter, “I’ve told you and told you, never panic, Rafer. But you did, even though there was no reason to. You should have asked yourself what could DeSilva do?”
“She could have gone to see Uncle Booker.”
She began tapping her fingers again and arched an eyebrow. “Yes. Now picture that. What would she tell him? That she dumpster-dived into your brain and heard you thinking about those girls? Rafer, can you imagine DeSilva claiming she heard your thoughts? Yes, I see you realize how ridiculous she’d sound. Now, Mr. Jobs assured your father and me there won’t be any charges since there’s no evidence. Your word against hers, that’s it.” She took his hand. “You know your uncle Booker called me right away and explained everything. We made certain to clear out all the evidence from your cottage that could possibly tie you to that woman. So everything is all right. The FBI forensic team didn’t find a thing. I don’t want you to worry about this—incident—anymore, Rafer. But you must learn to stay calm and think rationally before you act. Better yet, if something unexpected happens in the future, call me before you act.”
Rafer looked down at his half-eaten sandwich, looked quickly away. No matter what she said, there was no getting around the fact he could have ruined things for them, put them all in danger. The worst was he’d upset his mother. Bad things happened when he upset his mother. His stomach cramped, viciously, then settled again. He looked back at her, wondered why she hadn’t punished him. Because he’d been hurt? She was beautiful, his ma, but now she didn’t look angry, she looked so disappointed, so sad. He knew he wasn’t what she wanted, never had been. He wasn’t much of anything. He tried to justify himself, but knew he sounded lame. “It would have been all right if not for Hammersmith showing up like that, out of the blue.”
“Hammersmith. Yes, he’s worrisome, isn’t he?” Her voice was absent, as if she was focusing on something else entirely.
Rafer said nothing, nor did Cyndia expect him to. She sat back in her chair and studied her son. Rafer was handsome, the picture of her own father at his age. He looked like a man’s man, like her own father had, but her father had been gifted and he’d passed his gift down to her. And she to her daughter, Camilla. She shook her head, to focus on the here and now. There was nothing she could do to change the past. But change the future, she was committed to that. And Rafer was vital. No matter what he was or wasn’t, he was still her son, his father’s son, and he was all they had.
He still looked scared and ashamed, like a little boy who’d peed his pants and had to own it. She lightly patted his arm, well above the cast. “Do you want to make this up to me, Rafer? And to your father?”
His eyes lit up, but even so, she still saw fear lurking. Of what she was going to ask of him? His mind had always been so clear to her, but now she couldn’t be certain.
He said, “Yes, Ma, yes. Anything. I’ll do anything for you. For Pa.”
“You’re a good boy, Rafer, and I love you. Now, there is something you can do for me, something you do very well. You’re recovered enough to act for me, past time, really. In fact, it must be done today. It’s important to me, Rafer, so you can’t fail, you understand? You need to be strong, and brave. I’m going to tell you exactly what to do and you will do it.”
He felt his insides turn to ice. He knew, oh yes, he knew what she was going to tell him to do. Even thinking about it made him sick to his stomach, but she was looking at him with such naked hope. And something more, something he’d felt from her forever, a sort of pressure bearing down on him, a feeling he couldn’t escape, couldn’t begin to fight. Even as his brain screamed at him, he slowly nodded, his eyes frozen on her face. She still looked at him with her own special kind of focus. He nodded again, licked his dry lips, whispered, “Yes, Ma, whatever you say. But what about this?” He waved his cast at her.
“I’ve taken the cast into account. It won’t get in your way.” She rose and he stood with her. She hugged him. “You’re my good son, Rafer. Make me proud of you.”
When Rafer left Eagle’s Nest thirty minutes later, he drove slowly down the narrow road with all its switchbacks. He thought about his life, the plans and dreams he’d had when he was a young man just graduated from high school, the future spread in front of him. Maybe he’d go to college.
Rafer laughed at himself.
None of it mattered now. This was what his mother wanted. He wouldn’t screw up this time.