Page 10 of Rafe: Sins of the Father

How many nights had I lain up here in this room listening to the sound of the trucks on the highway and the lonesome train whistle from the tracks that ran alongside the it?

I remembered lying awake once when I was ten, the night of my birthday. That was the night my parents had the fight that ended their marriage. The next morning, mother had packed me up, and we’d driven down the long drive. At the time, I never knew I’d be taken all the way to the other side of the continent and wouldn’t see my father again until the following summer.

Stepping to the window seat, I scan the view. The sun has set behind the mountains and lights shine brightly through the pines from the buildings down at the mill. I hear the distant roar of a motorcycle and see one pull out onto the highway, heading in the direction of San Jose.

It must be that boy, Rafe… though, nothing about him indicated he was aboy. Everything screamed he was a man, and not one to be messed with.

The roaring engine fades, and I drop the curtain.

“Dinner will be in an hour,” Ruth calls up the stairs.

An hour later, I’m sitting at the dining table with my father at one end and Ruth at the other.

Forking up a bite of my meatloaf, I study my father. When I came down the stairs, they were already seated and arguing.

“You stopped at the mill?” Ruth accuses, flinging a hand in its direction. “You should have brought her directly to the house the minute you arrived. You have a responsibility to her and to her mother.”

“I’m fully aware of my responsibility to my daughter.”

“Then you should fire that man.”

“Ruth, enough. It’s my decision.”

“Charlie says he’s nothing but trouble.”

“Since when do you converse with my foreman?”

She rolls her eyes. “I give him a sandwich now and then. We eat on the porch. Is that so wrong?”

“He’s got no business telling you what happens at the mill.”

“Why not? I can’t talk to people?”

My father serves himself a helping of mashed potatoes and tosses the spoon in the bowl with a clatter. “Look, I’m not firing Rafe. He does good work. None of the other employees have been able to keep that old loader running except him. He’s saved me a fortune in mechanic’s bills.”

“He’s in a gang. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? And with your daughter here? I thought you’d have come to your senses before she got home.” She sips her water, then continues. “Why were the police here?”

“You mean Charlie didn’t tell you?”

“I haven’t talked to him today.”

“He said someone stole money from the office cash box. He accused Rafe, but Bubba vouched for him.”

“Bubba. He’s another one. Nothing but trouble, and you believe him?”

“Yes.”

“What if Rafe is a thief?”

“Rafe is too smart for that. He wanted this job, or he wouldn’t have shown up the very next day. He deserves the benefit of the doubt.”

“You’re too trusting. It makes people think they can slip things past you.”

My father tosses his napkin down and stands. “I’m not hungry and I have work to do.”

He exits the room and heads to his study.

“I’m sorry, Tori. I ruined your first night back with your father. I should learn to keep my mouth shut.” Ruth stares at the uneaten food left on her brother’s plate.

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