Page 68 of The Hitchhikers
“Too late now.” Simon yanked the phone out of the wall, ripping the pretty wallpaper and leaving a hole. He smashed the phone against the edge of the counter until it split open, then he dropped it onto the floor. Wires and phone innards scattered across the linoleum.
Bones was at Ruth’s feet under the table, a confused whine coming from his throat. Jenny had a jolt of fear that he might try to bite Simon, but the dog stayed by Ruth.
“You can have our money,” William said. “Guns, food. We don’t want any trouble.”
“Nah, I think we’re going to stick around for a bit.”
“We have to talk.” Jenny got to her feet, standing between her chair and the table. Her hands were so tight her fingernails were biting into the palm. Simon barely glanced at her.
“Later.” He turned to Ruth. “Stop staring at me or I’ll snap your neck.”
Ruth dropped her gaze and slowly linked her fingers on top of the table. She had small hands, with blue veins marbling the freckled skin. Her wedding ring was tarnished and worn.
“Jenny,” he hissed. “Get the guns.”
This time she turned and stumbled down the hall. She opened and closed the first door on the left, a hall closet, barely noticing the contents. The door on the right was a bathroom.
The rifle was behind the third door of what looked to be the main bedroom, with a neatly made bed, a blue flowered coverlet, and an antique dresser and mirror. When she opened the closet, she found the shotgun and, beside it, white and green boxes of ammunition, some larger and heavier. She grabbed two boxes of each, then slung the guns around her shoulders by their straps.
Simon’s dad had owned guns. Simon said it was because the marina had been robbed and his dad was paranoid. He’d taken his dad’s rifle a couple of times without his dad knowing, and they’d gone target shooting on one of the islands. Simon had said it would be good for her to learn how to use one, which she’d thought silly. Why would she ever need a rifle? She’d hated the noise, the sudden burst of power, the gun recoiling into her shoulder, and had been terrified she’d make a mistake and hurt herself or Simon, but now she was glad she knew some basic things, like how to check that the safety was on, and to always point the muzzle down.
“You find them?” he yelled.
She walked back to the kitchen.
“Nice.” Simon’s eyes gleamed as he took the boxes of ammo and placed them on the counter. She passed him the rifle. He looked it over and set it against a cabinet. When he took the shotgun, he paused, ran his hand down the glossy wood stock. “My dad had one like this.”
He looked at William. “Where’s your rope?”
“Not sure if I have any.”
“Don’t lie to me, old man.” Simon put his foot on the edge of the table and gave it a shove, so it rammed into William’s chest. “You’re a goddamn farmer.”
“I’m not lying. I haven’t had an occasion to need rope,” he said. “Other than the towrope, but I am guessing that’s not what you have in mind. There’s binding twine in the barn.”
“Where?”
“On the wall above the workbench.”
Simon nodded his head at Jenny. “Go get it, I’ll keep them here.”
Jenny hesitated, looking at Alice, Ruth, and William. Only Alice was staring back at her, and Jenny could see the rebuke in her eyes, the unspoken words.Ruth and William are old and he’s going to tie them up. He’s going to hurt them. Why are you letting him do this?
Jenny hurried toward the front door, pushing it open. The screen door rattled shut behind her. The barn was straight ahead. She crossed the dusty driveway, sandals flapping. Chickens clucked and scratched at the dirt. One advanced toward her with its head bobbing. Jenny picked up the pace until she reached the barn.
The interior was cool and shadowed, with the only light coming through a few dirty windows. It smelled like hay and animals. Empty stalls lined each side of the barn. It was bigger than it had appeared on the outside, with a wide-open area down the center. Once her eyes had adjusted to the gloom, she walked over to the workbench and scanned the wall for twine.
She spotted the roll and was reaching for it when the sudden sound of a phone ringing had her dropping her hand and jerking around to the noise. Where was it coming from?
She took a few steps and spotted the phone on the far corner of the workbench. Guilt and shame washed over her, as if the person on the other end could see her there, hiding in the dark.
The house was quiet now. Her mother had knocked the record player over in the fight. Or maybe it had been Robert. It all happened so fast.
Jenny huddled on the floor, her back against the couch, and her arms wrapped around her knees. She could see the phone receiver dangling off the side table.
She closed her eyes. She willed herself away, willed her breath to stop. Her lungs ached. Her head felt light. She found the black space between her thoughts.
The void. She floated into it.
