The Newcomer. Робин КаррЧитать онлайн книгу.
phone calls?”
“He’s between classes, calling from the men’s room—I heard flushing. They’re not supposed to make calls during school hours. So, he wants to go over to Eve’s house. And I’ll be more than happy if he does.”
“Sounds fine to me. Jeez, I have to get a better system around here. I’d buy Rawley a cell phone, but he probably wouldn’t use it.”
“What’s the matter with Rawley?”
“He doesn’t talk to me unless he has to. He didn’t show up today. He pretty much makes his own hours, which is fine. Everything we have to do gets done. But if he’s not coming at all, he should let me know. That way when he doesn’t let me know, like today, I know he’s all right.”
“Do you think he’s not all right?” she asked.
“No telling. I’ve been thinking about driving over to Elmore to check on him, but there’s no one to watch the store.”
“Cooper, I’ll keep an eye on things. How long could it take?”
He shrugged. “Almost a half hour each way, then seeing if he’s around. He takes care of his father, who is an invalid. When Rawley works, a neighbor lady who’s a nurse’s aid in a nursing home looks in on him. If I can’t find Rawley anywhere, I’ll need to call hospitals or something. Rawley is strange, but he’s pretty reliable.”
“Then just go. Will you make me dinner for me tonight?”
“Sure,” he said, pulling her in for a kiss. “I’d rather lock the doors and take you upstairs for a while. You were less than romantic last night.” He kissed her again. “But I should make sure Rawley is okay. I don’t know how old he is, but older than dirt, I suspect.”
“Just go. Ease your mind. Then if there aren’t a lot of people around later, we can make out awhile.”
“Can we make out naked?”
“No,” she said with a laugh. “What if my brother popped in for some reason?”
“Your brother. You know, I like Landon, but is it too late to put him up for adoption? We could get visitation a couple of days a week....”
“And the rest of the week?”
He nuzzled her neck. “I think you know....”
“Go,” she said. “I’ll check out the freezer and decide what I want for dinner.”
* * *
Cooper found Rawley’s red truck in the driveway at his house, indicating he was at home, but there was a for sale sign in the back window of the truck. Maybe he’d decided to work on restoring Ben’s old truck and drive it at the same time. When Cooper found all the stuff in Ben’s old storage shed—truck, Razor, tools, etc.—he’d given Ben’s truck to Rawley and invited him to use any tools he needed to work on it. He gave the Razor to Sarah and Landon since he had a Rhino for himself.
Cooper parked on the street, walked up the brick steps and knocked on the door. He knocked again before Rawley opened the door. Rawley was wearing a white dress shirt with his jeans—a new look for him. There was no bandana tied around his head, either. And his hair—extremely thin on top and usually long—had been trimmed.
“What’s up, Rawley?” Cooper asked. And Rawley just held open the door so Cooper could step inside. “You’re selling the truck?” he asked as he entered. And then he saw the empty wheelchair sitting in front of the fireplace. “Rawley...”
“He passed real quiet,” Rawley said. “In his sleep. I found him this morning.”
“Aw, Rawley. I’m sorry, man. You should have called me.”
Rawley just shook his head. “I knew what to do.”
Cooper reached out and put a strong hand on his shoulder. “I could’ve helped.”
“You got a business to run.”
“I also have commitments to friends,” he said. “I would’ve put the big thermos on the porch, some doughnuts on a plate under the glass so the birds wouldn’t get in ’em. There’s just the two of us out there on the beach. There’s gonna be times we have to be somewhere else.”
Rawley, so unexpressive, looked surprised by that. “Just figured I’d get ’er done.”
“You’re selling the truck?”
He shrugged. “My dad, he had himself a plot, paid for, but that’s about it. It’s either sell the house or the truck.”
“To pay for the funeral?”
“Won’t be no funeral, there’s just us. But he needs a box.”
Cooper stood uncertainly for a moment. “Could we sit down in the kitchen and have a cup of coffee?”
Without answering, Rawley turned and headed toward the kitchen. Once there he brought a fresh cup out of the cupboard and filled it for Cooper. Then he filled his own cup. Then, to Cooper’s surprise, he put cream and sugar on the table, along with a spoon. And he sat down.
Cooper didn’t really know where to begin. “Mac said you’ve been hanging around the bait shop for a few years now.”
Rawley nodded.
“Where did you work before that, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Odd jobs. Here and there.”
“And lived here with your dad?”
He shook his head. “I just got reconnected with my dad four years ago. Ben forced that issue,” he said, naming their late friend.
“Where were you living before that?” Cooper asked.
“Here and there.” Cooper decided to wait him out. He sipped his coffee, excellent coffee, and just didn’t speak for a couple of the longest minutes of his life. “I didn’t get on with people so much after the war,” Rawley said. “It wasn’t like now—folks didn’t celebrate Vietnam soldiers too much. Made a person want to disappear. That, and bombs going off while you sleep—makes a man just want to be alone.”
PTSD issues, Mac had said. “Understandable,” Cooper said.
“I stopped by to see my dad sometimes. Just for a day or so, every few years or so, but not for long. I had burdens. You know.”
“I know,” Cooper said. And he thought, there are so many of us. Men without strong attachments who just wander. Cooper didn’t have PTSD issues that he was aware of, but he still felt like a loner often enough. And, like Rawley, after leaving the service he hadn’t gone home to his family. He’d kept moving.
“My dad used to fish off Ben’s dock,” Rawley said. “He’d have a shot of Wild Turkey sometimes before heading home. Ben found me. I hung out with a couple of vets around Eureka, not too far from the VA. Sometimes if we needed something, like food or money to eat, the VA was as good a place as any. Used clothes, too. Then Ben said my dad was doing poorly. He hadn’t been fishing in so long, Ben checked on him and my dad couldn’t get himself upstairs to go to bed most nights so he slept in the chair. Ben said my dad needed help. He said he’d give me a part-time job if it could be worked out.”
“So you came home to help your dad,” Cooper said.
“It’s different coming home because you’re needed than coming home because you’re needy,” Rawley said.
Cooper lifted his coffee cup to his lips. “Exactly right,” he agreed.
They drank their coffee in silence for a while.
“So, you have a house here,” Cooper said. “Place to live and a job. I guess that means you’ll be staying.”
“It’s almost habit now,” Rawley said.
“You