If the river could tick it was ticking. There was a smell I recognized in the air, a smell like wet paper and fire, and a deeper smell that was not good, deeper than the dry leaves falling, deeper than the barrow pits. I sat in my car and listened for incoming calls. But there was nothing but static, a hundred miles of it.

Louise BLIND SPOT

She had agreed to meet Harvey Stoner secretly. She sat in the tall weeds, waiting for the sound of his car. It reminded her of the times she had hidden from Charlie, only this time she would get to punch the radio keys in Harvey’s car, drink an ice-cold beer.

Harvey Stoner smiled at her as he opened the car door and leaned far over to her. “You’re a sight,” he said.

She had seen the men at the Dixon Bar glance away from their stares when she looked at them. Some of the men in Thompson Falls had looked in her eyes for a moment too long when they counted back change to her. Baptiste only smirked at her. But no man had looked at her like Harvey Stoner. He eyed her like a waterfall. Harvey drove her up behind Dixon, far up a road she had only walked with her grandmother and sister when they searched for huckleberries. She could smell the sweet light of autumn.

They sat in the car and listened to the radio. She drank her beer fast to feel the quick sleepiness settle in her chest, the drift of a good time. They rolled down the windows and watched the sky. It was dark as an Easter shroud but it did not rain. They sat for a while not talking. Louise liked the afternoon, the slow lazy sun hovering. She liked the purple belly of the clouds over their heads. Harvey Stoner drove her home, telling her next time he would surprise her. Next time. She was surprised by him this time, surprised he had not tried to kiss her or touch her. He seemed to enjoy her company. He lit her cigarettes and uncapped her beers. She was happy he wanted to see her again. Happy to have a man drive her home and pull right up next to her grandmother’s house like she was a lady.