Page 9 of Wall

Heavy guffaws. “Story of my life, man.”

We set off in silence for the tree line, my eyes on the ground, Heavy’s on his phone. I see more crushed beer cans than I’d like. When we get back, prospects are gonna have a chore.

About three years back, I got put in charge of facilities and prospects. Mostly by default. Heavy’s more a C.E.O. now that Steel Bones Construction has taken off, and the other brothers with reliable sobriety and high school educations have other positions.

We pass Shirlene and Twitch’s tree. She’s got a folded lawn chair leanin’ against it. Guess she’s getting a little too old for sittin’ on the ground, and Twitch ain’t around to help her up no more. I shoot off a quick prayer. Twitch was a great man, gone too soon. When we come back, I need to remember to bring her chair in so it don’t rust.

Once we’re in the woods, the trees grow fairly far apart, so we cover a great deal of ground quickly. I don’t see turds of any kind. Heavy ain’t no help. Still got his nose in his phone.

I give up lookin’ for signs, and I start taking in my surroundings. Honestly, it’s more likely I’ll see or hear the dog. It’s real quiet out here. The only sounds are the crunch of sticks under our boots, and the occasional caw of a crow.

A half hour or so in, the snow starts fallin’. Big, wet flakes. Weatherman’s calling for three to six inches, and my gut says it’ll be closer to three. Good news. About a year ago, Mona bought herself a little tin can. It’s a piece of crap. No ground clearance. No weight to it. And she rides her tires bald.

Once, I had to slash her front right tire—I smashed a bottle in the road so she’d think she ran over glass—to get her to go buy a new one before she ended up hydroplaning and killin’ herself.

My gut aches like it always does when I think about Mona. She’s soft. Soft-hearted. Getting a little soft around the middle these days, too, but it looks good on her.

She looks out for other people, but she don’t take care of herself. At least that’s what it seems like from a distance.

She hasn’t spoken to me since she said, “Get out.” Four years ago now. A few days after that night, she sent me an email about how it hurt too bad to look at me, my stuff’s on the porch, and she’d find herself an apartment and clear out.

I told her stay in the house, we’re underwater on the mortgage, selling don’t make sense.

The part about the mortgage was a lie. We had plenty of equity in the house, but Mona didn’t do the bills. She didn’t know.

She cuts me a check for six hundred bucks each month. She writesrentin the memo line. It’s the only contact she’ll have with me. She still don’t know that the mortgage is nearly two thousand. I deposit the check straight into a savings account.

She’d probably be pissed if she knew. She’s real self-sufficient. She was a CNA when we were together, but she went to night school on the nursing home’s dime, and now she’s an LPN. The wife of an old buddy from Smoke and Steel works with Mona, and I hear about her through the grapevine.

Suddenly, Heavy stops in his tracks and raises his fist. He gestures due north with two fingers. It takes a minute, but I make out the movement in the underbrush that caught his eye. Damn, if his phone ain’t still in his hand.

We hold our breaths and stalk closer. There’s a rustling of leaves, and then a gray streak skitters off.

“Squirrel.” I exhale.

“Squirrel,” Heavy agrees. “How long we been out here?”

“Hour or so.”

He sighs. “I should get back. Work’s stacking up.”

I don’t know how he does it. The man owns none of his own time. “Go on. I’m gonna keep lookin’.”

He nods, but he hangs with me for a spell in a small clearing, our necks craned up. Tall pines sway above us, the snow catching on the needles. It’s like the sky’s a snow globe, fat flakes falling down but not reaching where we stand.

“I could live out here,” he says. “’The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.’”

“Amen.” Our brothers think it’s a quirk that Heavy has, quoting the Good Book. His faith is as large as the man, though. You watch what he does, you’ll see it.He is truly his brother’s keeper and the finder of lost children.

After Mona cut me loose, I went on a six-month bender. Drink, drugs, women. I was blacking out. I had to delete Mona’s number from my phone so I didn’t call her up, say something to hurt her worse. Then one day, Heavy finds me passed out in clubhouse yard after a party. He offers me a job. Says quit the firehouse and patch in to Steel Bones. He saved my life that day. I got sober, and I haven’t had a woman or a toke since.

“I’d build a cabin up there.” Heavy tilts his head toward the low mountains in the far distance. “You ever think about walking away from it all?”

I shake my head. “Nope. What I want ain’t out there.”

He slides me a knowing look. “You know, a man makes a mistake, he shouldn’t have to pay for it all the days of his life.”

“Yeah. All the same, I’ll wait on Mona.”

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