Road to Nowhere (33 page)

“I know,” Steve said. “I’m getting real familiar with that twenty miles.”

“So I’d just say we won’t worry about the bridge washing out. Then we wouldn’t have to bring up Gold River Highway at all.”

“Come on, Randy,” Steve said. “If it wasn’t for all the business about Mountain View and Hemlock, wouldn’t you say the road was important for the county?”

“You can’t break it apart like that. That’s why the Board of Supervisors has the last word, so they can look at everything, not just maps and plans. And that brings up a point about the Planning Commission.”

“What?”

“Well, the rule is that there’s supposed to be one member of the Board of Supervisors who’s also on the Planning Commission, to help them work together. But the other four planning commissioners are supposed to be independent.”

“Right,” Steve said. “I remember how that was commented on. So one of us has to quit one of our boards.”

“And I’d like to suggest that you stay on the commission, and I’d step down.”

“Uh—sure. Is that what you want? I remember you weren’t real keen on me being on the commission.”

“Well . . . I think we’ve all seen that you know the business a lot better than the rest of us.”

“Whatever. That’s fine.”

“And while we’re talking about that, let me tell you about one zoning request that’s just come up, and that’s from Roland Coates.”

“I’ve heard of him . . .”

“He wants to get his zoning changed on his factory.”

“That’s a special-use permit for light industrial.”

“I think that’s what it is. But he’s filling in forms now to hand in for the next commission meeting.”

“What zoning does he want?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t expect that he does, either.”

“Uh . . . so what are we supposed to do?”

“That’ll be up to you.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll look at his forms.”

“They might not tell you much.”

“I’ll go see him. Um—I might have a guess. I heard about a grocery store.”

“Oh no!” That was completely unexpected, as Steve wasn’t likely to be hearing rumors from the likes of Luke Goddard. “Where has that idea come from? Because I’ve heard it, too.”

“A developer called me. But he wanted to kill it. Don’t ask me, Randy. I don’t have a clue what he was talking about. But I have another question. When I was reading about the 1977 flood, it mentioned the mayor a lot. What happened to Wardsville’s mayor?”

“You might say the whole town was canceled due to lack of interest. It was, let’s see, about 1983 when the people in town decided there wasn’t any point in paying taxes for two governments, town and county, so they just sent their charter back to Raleigh and dissolved the municipal council and mayor.”

“And the county just took over.”

“That’s right. And that was about the time the town started fading, you might say, and there were the first empty windows on Main Street, and they stopped putting up any new houses in Mountain View, and since then we’ve been holding on at best, or maybe slipping a little.”

Good leaves. Heavy, thick, good smell to them. Joe got down on his hands and knees to look under them, to look for worms, for beetles, anything. Not a one.

He stood up. Not as easy to stand up as it was even last year.

He got back down so he could stand up again.

Walk back to the house. Rose was in the garden weeding, on her own knees.

“I’ll do some of that,” he said, and he knelt next to her, over a row, in the beans and tomatoes. She’d planted those two together since he’d known her, a stake of one, then of the other, back and forth. They’d always been beside each other.

“Thank you, Joe,” she said. Then they were quiet. They worked down the row together, side by side. Pulling the weeds, pinching off the weak branches, straightening the stakes.

They came to the end of the row. Once again Joe stood up. He took Rose’s hand and lifted, to bring her up beside him.

“Thank you,” she said again. “I think that’s enough for today.”

“We could do a walk,” he said.

“We could.”

He took her hand again. Her step was stiff at first and he went slow, but when they’d passed the chicken coop and come to the lane, she had her usual stride, and he did, too.

He kept her hand and walked the dirt of the road together, past the field and down. Past the line of trees at the creek and up beyond it, past the pasture. The neighbors had their cows in it. Joe had sold his own cattle when it had got to where he wasn’t strong enough to handle them. That had been four years ago.

Then they were to where the creek bent around again and the pond was, where they’d skate in the winter if there was enough ice. He’d done it as a boy, and the children had, and the grandchildren.

Woods on the other side of the lane. They stopped and he let go of Rose’s hand, and she pulled a few of the weeds from around an old thorny bush, one of a line along the roadside. There’d been her grandmother’s house where the trees were now, and a yard and garden along the roses. It was where he’d known her as a girl. Just the bushes now and they didn’t bloom.

There was that telephone ringing. Louise had just that moment put the last plates back up in the cupboard, and she hadn’t even had a chance to breathe and there was the telephone.

“Byron? Could you get that?” It was right beside his elbow.

“It’ll be for you.”

It always was. She got her apron off and ran across the hall.

“Hello?”

There wasn’t anybody there, just some scratchy sounds. “Hello?” she said again.

“Hello?” It was man, talking loud. “Anybody there?”

“This is Louise. Who are you?”

“Louise Brown?”

“Yes. This is Louise.”

“Good.” There was a loud clank and then the voice sounded a little bit better. “Getting off that speaker phone. The Louise Brown on the Board of Supervisors?”

“Yes!” It was starting to get just too silly.

“Good. Finally. That last one wasn’t. Can’t tell a thing from those addresses. I’m Charlie Ryder. I want to talk to you.”

Louise had finally settled down in her chair. It was silly, but it was a little bit fun, too. “Well, then talk, Mr. Ryder.” Who in the world was Charlie Ryder?

“It’s about this road. Gold River Highway. Now, look, I want to know what it’s going to take to get you to vote for it.”

Charlie Ryder. She just couldn’t remember knowing a single Charlie. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t know you. You are supposed to vote on the road, right?”

“Of course I am.”

“Good. That’s why I’m calling. I want to get that road built, so I’m calling to see what it’s going to take.”

“Well, it’s going to take us voting for it,” she said. She couldn’t help but giggle.

“Great. Great. That’s what I wanted to hear. We’re communicating. Now, we’re two against two, and you’re in the middle. You get my point?”

“I think so.”

“So that’s why I’m calling, to see what it’ll take.”

“What it will take?” What in the world was he talking about? “I don’t understand.”

“What it would be worth to you. There’s a lot involved here, and I can be generous.”

“That’s very nice, Mr. Ryder, but I still don’t really understand.”

“Okay, I see. You don’t know me, and you’re being cautious. That’s good. You’re smarter than some people I deal with. Just think about it and I’ll get back to you. Now, here’s another thing. About some new grocery store. Do you all have to approve that, too?”

“What?” Louise was enjoying herself, but she was starting to get dizzy. It was like talking to Eliza. “What new grocery store?”

“A guy told me they were going to tear down some factory. Somebody was buying an old factory in Wardsville and they were going to use the land for a shopping center.”

“Who told you that?”

Pause. “A guy who used to work for me.”

“Mr. Ryder, that couldn’t be right. In Wardsville?”

“Yeah. Where the road was coming in.”

“I think you’re mixed up,” she said. “There’s only one factory in town, and that’s the furniture factory.”

Byron looked up from his television program.

“Right, that’s it,” Charlie Ryder said.

“No! I don’t believe it.”

“You don’t want it, believe me. You’ve got to make sure that thing doesn’t get approved.”

“That won’t ever happen.”

“Good, good, we’re communicating on that, too. That can be part of the deal, and like I said, I can afford to be generous.”

Louise was not enjoying the conversation anymore. At all.

“Mr. Ryder, I’m starting to wish you had never called.”

“Then I never did. I like working with you, Louise. And that’s just right, I never called. And I’ll be in touch.”

The telephone went dead, and Louise wasn’t feeling much better herself.

“What’s all that about the furniture factory?”

“I don’t know, Byron,” she said. “I have to think. That man must have thought he was talking to someone else.”

And then the telephone rang again.

“Hello? This is Louise.”

“Hi—this is Steve Carter.”

“Oh good! That’s so much better! How are you, dear?”

“Oh, um, fine. Do you have a minute for a question?”

“Go right ahead, Steve. I’m just sitting here answering the phone.”

“Okay. Um, it’s about the factory in town? The furniture factory?”

For goodness’ sakes. “Not you, too?” she said.

“Me, too?”

“Go ahead.”

“Okay. This isn’t really official, but maybe you can help me figure this out. I’ve got these forms that Mr. Coates has just submitted to the Planning Commission. He wants to rezone his land.”

Louise put her hand up to her cheek. Goodness, goodness, goodness!

It was true! Byron was back to watching the television.

“It’s Steve Carter,” she said to him, “and he’s asking about the factory.” She talked into the telephone. “Does it say what he wants to do?”

“That’s the thing. He hardly filled anything in. It just says to zone it for general use.”

“What does that mean?”

“It doesn’t mean anything. There isn’t any general use category. I’ll go talk to him. But do you have any clue, Louise?”

“Oh, Steve. I think I do, and I hate the thought!” She was watching Byron, and he had his eyes right on her. “I just talked to a man who said they want to tear down the factory and build a shopping center.”

“A shopping center!” Steve said. “I still can’t believe it.”

“You’ve heard that, too? Mr. Coates said he was selling the factory, but we all thought that meant someone else would be running it.”

Byron was just staring at her.

“Maybe the new owners just want the land,” Steve said.

“It’s terrible, Steve! We can’t let that happen.”

“Well, I really don’t know anything. Let’s just wait, Louise, and I’ll talk to Roland Coates.”

“You won’t be the only one!”

Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! Goodness, goodness! Oh dear!

“What’s this?” Byron said as soon as she had the telephone put down.

“I don’t know!” She was almost crying. “Would they do that?”

“Do what?”

“Just tear it down?”

“Tear down the factory?” Byron’s mouth was hanging open. “What? Why?”

“To build a shopping center with a grocery store!”

“That’s crazy!”

“Oh, Byron! Would Mr. Coates do such a thing?”

“Maybe it’s the people buying the factory.”

“But he’s the one who wants the zoning changed.”

“Let me talk to the man,” Byron said. “Don’t go and have a fit, Louise.”

“I will if I want to.”

“Then do it in the kitchen so I can think.”

And then the silly telephone rang again!

“This is Louise.” She was almost crying.

There was a little pause and a click or two.

“Hello?” said a voice, and it sounded far away.

“Hello. This is Louise!” Now she might get mad. Everyone calling her was saying terrible things.

“Grandma? It’s Matt.” She could hardly think what that meant. “Are you okay?”

“Matt? Matt!” Matt! It was Matt! “It’s Matt, Byron. Go get on the other telephone, quick. It’s Matt!”

“Grandma?”

“Yes, dear. Oh, where are you? Are you all right?”

“I’m okay,” he said, but he sounded worried. “Everything’s okay. Are you okay, Grandma?”

“Oh, Matt, I’m just fine. It’s so wonderful to hear you! Where are you?”

“At the base. In Baghdad. Mom said I should call you to say hi. I’ll be home the last week of August, and I’ll be right up to see you.”

It was dark when they ate. That didn’t happen often in the summer. He and Rose both were early to bed most nights. But their walk had brought them back late.

The phone rang, loud and harsh.

“Joe Esterhouse.”

“Joe. Marty Brannin here. Just checking on you.”

“That’s thoughtful of you, Marty.”

“It’s been a few weeks since we talked. I was sort of expecting to see something happen pretty quick. Have you talked to the State Police?”

“Not yet.”

“But what about the road?”

“It’s not looking real likely that the board will vote it in.”

“What do you mean? Does that make a difference?”

“If somebody’s trying to stop the road, they might have done it. So there might not be a reason for them to do anything else.”

Long pause. “So you aren’t pushing it because you don’t think anyone’s in danger?”

“Something like that.”

“Joe! What about two murders?”

“I know, Marty.”

“We have to do something.”

“I know.”

Another pause. “I can call the State Police.”

“I can, too. But I’m not sure that’s the best thing just now.”

“There might be a murderer on the loose. Now. In Jefferson County. And whatever you think, he could kill someone else any day.”

“He might. I don’t know as much as I thought I did, Marty. Bringing the police in from outside might even be worse.”

“Okay. Who on the board is the next most likely to vote for the road?”

“Hard to tell. I’m not sure there are many votes for the road.”

“The new person, from Gold Valley?”

“He’s doing more to shoot it down than anyone.”

“Louise Brown?”