"Whisper to the Blood" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stabenow Dana)

THREE

Johnny sat very straight behind the wheel of his pickup as he made his first solo journey into Niniltna the next morning. He drove with sobriety and caution, and pulled into Annie Mike's driveway with nary a nourish.

This sedate impression of middle age disintegrated when the front door opened and Van stepped out onto the porch.

Vanessa Cox's posture was so good that she would always seem taller than she was. Her dark hair was thick, fine, and straight, cut bluntly to brush her shoulders, with a spiky fringe to frame her dark eyes. She had a slim, straight nose, a full, firm mouth, and a delicately pointed chin.

For years her attire had consisted of bibbed denim overalls with a marsupial front pocket and buckled shoulder straps, worn over a T-shirt in summer and a turtleneck in winter, usually accessorized with Xtra Tuffs and a down jacket. Recently, her wardrobe had expanded to include low-rider jeans, cropped T-shirts, and Uggs. She wore thin gold hoops in her ears and her lips shone with gloss.

Johnny didn't notice any of this in detail, of course. All he knew was that his best buddy Van had suddenly and inexplicably turned into a girl. "You look good," he said.

Her answering smile revealed a surprising set of dimples, a crooked left incisor, and a sparkle in her eyes that was as unsettling as it was exhilarating. "Thank you," she said demurely.

"Want a ride?"

She hopped in without answering. He may have put little more English on his departure than he had on his arrival, and who can blame him?

It was a beautiful day, barely a wisp of cloud to obstruct the view of the Quilak Mountains scratching a harsh line into the eastern sky. The Kanuyaq was as yet ice-free, and running low after a dry spring and a warm summer had pushed all the snowmelt down to the Gulf. The days were crisp, the nights cool but not yet cold. Canada geese practiced their V formations overhead, browsing moose cows were waiting for the siren call of moose bulls in rut, and two yearling grizzly cubs shot across the road inches in front of the blue pickup's bumper. Johnny took his foot off the gas but retained enough wit not to stamp on the brakes, and the cubs' hindquarters disappeared into the brush on the other side of the road. A second later and he would have clipped their hindquarters.

Johnny pulled to a halt at the corner, where Annie's driveway met the road to the Niniltna School, and paused. He looked at Van and suddenly driving up to school in his very own vehicle in front of all the kids seemed less appealing. On impulse, he turned left.

"This isn't the way to school," Van said. She had her window down and the cab was filled with the sound of dry leaves and fallen spruce needles crinkling beneath the truck's tires.

"I was thinking we could skip."

"Skip school?" she said.

"Just once," he said. He patted the steering wheel and gave her a sidelong grin. "We don't have to make a habit out of it, but today's kind of a special day."

She considered. "Where do you want to go?"

There weren't a lot of places to hang out in the Park, and that was a fact. "We could go watch the bears at the dump," he said.

She smiled. "Been there, done that."

"It's a nice day. We could hike up to the Lost Wife Mine."

She shook her head. "I don't feel like sweating."

"Riverside Cafe and the espresso drink of your choice?"

She raised one shoulder and let it fall. She turned her head and opened her eyes. One eyebrow might have raised, ever so slightly.

"Want to go to Ahtna?" he said.

Technically, he had his driver's license. He had his own truck in his own name, bought and paid for with his own money, earned in a dozen odd jobs. He had deckhanded with Kate for Old Sam Dementieff the previous summer. He'd hauled, cut, and stacked wood for Auntie Balasha, Auntie Joy, Auntie Vi, and Annie Mike. He'd swabbed floors at the Roadhouse and canned salmon for Demetri Totemoff. He'd even helped Matt Grosdidier smoke silver salmon the month before, although for that job he'd gotten paid in fish, not that he was complaining. Neither was Kate. He'd even filed paperwork for Ranger Dan and Chopper Jim.

And it wasn't like Kate had told him he couldn't go to Ahtna if he wanted to. Of course, he hadn't asked her. Mostly because he had had a pretty good idea of what her answer would be, especially if he was cutting school the second week of the year, and using his brand-new truck to do it. And then of course there was the little matter of his license being provisional until he was eighteen. He could drive himself but he wasn't supposed to drive anyone else underage. But who bothered with that in the Bush?

He had a niggling feeling that Kate and Jim both might have an answer for that. What they would like even less was their destination. Ahtna was a big town, over three thousand in the town proper. Every student in Park schools had been weaned on stories about the kids at Peratrovich High.

Ahtna was the biggest town closest to the Park, bigger even than Cordova, and you had to fly or take a boat to Cordova. Ahtna had a movie theater, a courthouse, a DMV, a Safeway, and a Costco, making it the market town for the Park. It had bars, and two liquor stores. The Park had Bernie's Roadhouse, where owner, proprietor, and bartender Bernie Koslowski by virtue of also being the Niniltna basketball coach knew the birthday of every kid in the Park. There was no buying a drink at the Roadhouse if you were underage.

Ahtna was a different story. It was easy, so they said, to get lost in the crowd in Ahtna. It was easy to pass for legal. All you needed was a fake ID, and sometimes you didn't even need that. The very mention of Ahtna's name brought an intoxicating whiff of sin to any Niniltnan in his or her teens, and a corresponding shiver of fear to their parents.

But "Sure," Van said, before he could think better of his invitation, and smiled at him again. They went to Ahtna forthwith.

It wasn't an easy drive, a battered gravel road that had begun life as a remnant of the railroad roadbed for the Kanuyaq River amp; Northern Railroad, built to haul copper ore from the Kanuyaq copper mine to the seaport in Cordova, there to be loaded onto bulk carriers and shipped to foundries Outside. The copper ran out after thirty years and the mining company left, pulling up the railroad tracks behind it. Unfortunately, they weren't quite as conscientious about the railroad spikes that had held the tracks together.

The road had not improved in the interim. Maintained by a state grader twice a year, once in the spring after breakup and once in the fall before the first snow, it was ridged and potholed, with shoulders crumbling to narrow a road that was barely wide enough for one car to begin with. Overgrown in some places with alder and stands of rusty brown spruce killed from the spruce bark beetle, and with cottonwoods where it crossed creeks, the road of necessity to its original purpose followed the most level possible ground, which meant it followed the twisting, winding course of one river and creek after another, which did not make for good visibility. Head-on collisions were frequent occurrences, as were sideswipes and rollovers, as the only places to pull over were the trailheads into cabins, homesteads, mining claims, and fish camps.

Johnny negotiated all these hazards more or less successfully, and even managed to cross the bridge at Lost Chance Creek without incident. It was a relief when they hit pavement just outside of Ahtna. When he'd driven that road the last time, he'd had Kate with him. Kate was the grown-up, his legal guardian, and as such responsible for him. This time, he was with Vanessa. It was his truck, and it had been his idea to go to Ahtna. Plus, she had that whole girl thing going on.

Not that he ever thought of women as the weaker sex, in need of protection from the big strong he-man. Not with Kate Shugak an in-his-face example every day, he didn't. It was just… well, he wasn't sure what just it was. All he knew was that this trip was his responsibility and he didn't want it ending in a ditch somewhere between Ahtna and Niniltna.

Van gave a little wriggle of delight when the ride smoothed out and all seven thousand parts of the pickup stopped banging against each other, which noise was replaced by the hiss of vulcanized rubber on asphalt. "I love paved roads," she said.

He grinned at her. "Me, too. So, where do you want to go first?"

"Costco," she said instantly.

He pretended to groan. "Shopping. I shoulda known. Do you have a card?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "I'm on Annie's family card."

So they spent a solid hour in the hangar-sized big box, Van trying on every item of clothing, male and female, there was on offer, Johnny mooning up and down the tools and auto parts aisles, and both of them drifting inexorably to the book table.

"That was fun," she said as they were leaving.

He gave her a quizzical look. "We didn't buy anything."

She gave him a sunny smile. "So what? Someday we will."

He laughed. "Okay. Where next? You hungry?"

"Starving!"

He could have taken her to McDonald's-Ahtna had one of those, too-but Johnny was determined to be cooler than that. "Can we afford this?" she said, wide-eyed, as they pulled into the parking lot of the Ahtna Lodge.

He grinned at her. "I didn't spend all my money on Old Blue, here," he said, patting the dashboard. He opened the door and said over his shoulder, "Most of it, but not all of it." His grin widened when he heard her laugh behind him. She'd had the same laugh since he'd first met her, a loud, brash blare of no-holds-barred amusement that sounded like it came right out of one of the songs of those old blues singers Kate listened to sometimes, raunchy, rough-edged, knowing, sad. He'd seen adults startled and sometimes alarmed by that laugh, as if they hadn't expected it to come out of the mouth of someone so quiet, or so young.

He didn't see the man in the parking lot turn his head at the sound of that laugh, gaze at Van for a moment, and then look at Johnny. He didn't see the man's eyes widen. Johnny held out his hand and Van came around the front of the pickup and took it as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as if they'd been holding hands for years.

They walked up the steps and through the restaurant doors. A slender, dark-haired man with a gold hoop earring in one ear and a white apron wrapped twice around his slim waist spotted Johnny at once. "Hey, kid," he said, shifting the tray of dirty dishes he was holding from one shoulder to the other so he could shake Johnny's hand. "How you been? How's Kate?"

Mercifully, he did not comment on its being a school day, which Johnny was belatedly realizing could be a question raised by everyone who knew who he was and who he lived with. "Good," Johnny said, "we're both good. Tony, this is my friend Vanessa."

Vanessa looked startled. It was the first time Johnny had called her anything but Van. Johnny pretended not to notice, too busy pretending to be a grown-up.

"Hey, Vanessa," Tony said, giving her an appraising look as he shook her hand. He winked at Johnny. "You hungry?"

"Stan cooking?" Stan being Tony's partner in life and in the Ahtna Lodge and the genius behind the steak sandwiches that were a magnet for everyone within a hundred miles.

"That he is."

"Then we're starving. Can we get a table by the window?" Tony looked over his shoulder. "Give me five minutes, and it's yours."

"Thanks, Tony."

They were seated and they both ordered the specialty of the house. In the interval, two virgin daiquiris arrived, ice and syrup and strawberries whipped to a froth and swirled into glasses the size of hubcaps.

A delighted smile spread across Van's face.

"Uh," Johnny said, loath to see the smile go away. "We didn't order these, Tony."

Tony nodded at the bar. "Courtesy of your friend."

Uh-oh. Johnny turned his head, hoping against hope it wasn't anybody like Ahtna police chief Kenny Hazen, who would be sure to mention that he'd seen Johnny in Ahtna on a school day the next time he saw Jim.

It wasn't Chief Hazen. It was instead someone almost as tall, but with a rangier build and a broad face that smiled at Johnny from beneath the bill of a Colorado Rockies ball cap.

"Who is that?" Vanessa said.

"I don't-" Johnny stopped. "Doyle?" He half rose from his chair, his voice uncertain. "Doyle Greenbaugh?"

Greenbaugh's laugh was hearty. He walked to their table and smacked Johnny's hand in an enthusiastic grip. "For a minute I thought you didn't recognize me. How you doing, Johnny?"

"For a minute I didn't," Johnny said, returning Greenbaugh's handshake. "What are you doing in Alaska, Doyle?"

Greenbaugh shrugged, still grinning. "It's your fault. You made it sound pretty good. I figured I'd come up and see how much you were bullshitting me." He nodded over Johnny's shoulder. "Who's your friend?"

Johnny, on his first date with his first-he was pretty sure-his first real girlfriend, could not resist the urge to show off a little. "Doyle," he said proudly, "this is Vanessa Cox." He'd even remembered to introduce the girl first. "Van, this is Doyle Greenbaugh." He hesitated, and then said, "I know him from Outside."

"How do, ma'am," Greenbaugh said. He actually removed his cap and even gave a nod that was halfway to a bow.

Vanessa, as yet unaccustomed to male deference to the fairer sex, tried for a regal inclination of the head in reply. Her pinkened cheeks gave her away, though.

"We drove in for lunch," Johnny said, adding manfully, "Would you like to join us?"

Greenbaugh waved a hand. "No, no, I don't want to intrude." He turned his head so Vanessa couldn't see and winked. I won't horn in on your action.

Johnny felt his ears get hot, and mumbled something in reply.

"We should get together and catch up, though," Greenbaugh said. "You live in Ahtna? I thought it was another town, can't remember the name of it. Ninilchik?" He mispronounced it "NIN-il-chik." You could always tell when someone was new to the state by how badly they mangled the place names.

"Actually, it was Anchorage," Johnny said, "but it's Niniltna now."

"How's that?"

"Nuh-NILT-nuh."

"Niniltna," Greenbaugh said. "That close to here?"

"East, up a gravel road a hundred miles or so."

"It the size of this place?"

Johnny laughed. "Not hardly. Only a couple hundred people." Greenbaugh made a face. "That small, probably no jobs."

"You looking for work?" Greenbaugh shrugged. "Gotta eat."

"There's an outfit starting up a gold mine in the Park," Johnny said impulsively. Van, sitting with her eyes downcast, looked at Johnny briefly and then down again. "They say there are going to be a lot of jobs in it."

Greenbaugh brightened. "A gold mine?"

"I could maybe talk to somebody for you."

"Man, I'd appreciate that."

"Well, it's not like I don't owe you," Johnny said. Van looked up again, dark eyes on his face. "You staying here in Ahtna?"

"Yeah, I got a room here."

"Got transportation?"

"Got a little Nissan pickup, packed with all my worldly belongings. Which ain't much."

"What happened to your rig?"

Greenbaugh grimaced. "One deadhead too many. Bank repossessed her."

"Damn. I'm sorry, Doyle."

"Luck of the draw. Why I came north, start over."

" Lot of people do that," Johnny said. " Lot of people drop their past life at the Beaver Creek border crossing."

Greenbaugh grinned. "You seen a lot of that in your long life, have you?"

Johnny felt his ears get red again. "It's just something Kate says."

"Who's Kate? Vanessa's competition?" He grinned at Vanessa, who didn't grin back.

For a moment Johnny was stumped for a reply. "Kate's who I live with. She's my legal guardian. You probably forgot, but my dad's dead, and my mom's… well, my mom's out of the picture."

Greenbaugh gave a thoughtful nod. "I remember now. Your mom's the one stuck you with your grandparents in Arizona. You didn't like it, so you left. This Kate was who you were headed for when we met?"

"Yeah."

"What's she do?"

Johnny shrugged. "Whatever she can do to make a buck." Greenbaugh raised an eyebrow.

Johnny flushed beet red. "Not that!" he said. "Jeez! What I mean is she's like any other Park rat, she hunts, fishes, traps sometimes." Johnny felt Vanessa look at him again, and avoided looking back. He didn't know why he didn't tell Greenbaugh what Kate did for a living. It wasn't like Greenbaugh wouldn't know five minutes after he stepped into the Park. Or even if he stuck around Ahtna long enough.

"Park rat?" Greenbaugh said.

Johnny laughed a little too loudly, relieved at the change of subject. "It's what we call ourselves."

"'Ourselves'?"

"I'm a Park rat now, too," Johnny said, betraying his youth with his pride.

Greenbaugh shrugged. "Okay. Any place decent for a man to stay in Niniltna?"

"Nuh-NILT-nuh," Johnny said again. Again, he hesitated, and then said, "Sure, just ask the way to Auntie Vi's, she runs a B and B in town. I'll tell her you're coming."

"Sounds good. Thanks, kid."

"Thanks for the drinks."

"Be seeing you." Greenbaugh sketched a wave and was gone. Johnny sat back down.

"How do you know him?" Vanessa said.

At that moment Stanislav himself brought out their steak sandwiches, a platter upon which red meat sizzled with a heavenly aroma, and everything else was put on hold.

But Vanessa hadn't forgotten, and on their way home and safely past the Lost Chance Creek Bridge she said, "How do you know that Greenbaugh guy?"

Johnny negotiated a turn with care. "It's just somebody I met on the way home from Arizona. You heard him."

"Hey, look, another moose," Vanessa said. "What's that make, the tenth or twelfth one we've seen today? Annie says when they come down out of the mountains this early it means a long cold winter." She turned to him again. "Come on, Johnny. Who is that guy?"

Johnny sighed. "Okay. Remember I told you my mom sent me to Arizona when my dad died?"

"Yes. You told me the two of you didn't get along."

That was an understatement. "No. We don't." In a burst of candor he added, "I don't think she even liked me that much. Mostly she just used me to piss off Dad."

Van said nothing, and Johnny appreciated her tact. "So when he died, she didn't need me around anymore, so she sent me to her folks in Arizona."

"And you didn't like it there."

"No," he said, very definitely. "So I hitchhiked home. Doyle Greenbaugh was one of the guys who picked me up. He was driving a semi. He picked me up outside Phoenix and took me all the way to Seattle."

"Oh." She digested this in silence for a moment. "So he followed you up here? That's kinda creepy."

Johnny shrugged. "It was a long drive. We talked a lot. He asked me where I was going, and I told him I was going home. He'd never been to Alaska, and he wanted to know what it was like." And he hadn't asked Johnny any uncomfortable questions, like why somebody Johnny's age was standing with his thumb out on an interstate in the middle of the night. "He was a good guy, and he didn't try anything."

She knew a faint chill. "Did someone else? Johnny?"

He shifted in his seat. "Maybe. Yeah." He risked a look at her. "Don't worry, I figured out what was going on in time and I bailed before anything happened."

She swallowed. "That's… that's awful, Johnny."

"Woulda been," he said. "Wasn't. I was careful."

"And lucky."

"And lucky," he said, nodding. He hadn't thought about it at the time, but he'd thought about it after, or he had when Kate had finally stopped yelling at him. He had been very lucky.

Van said, "How come your mom lets you live with Kate?"

"I'm sixteen now, so it's my choice. But before, when I got here? I think Kate blackmailed her."

Van turned her head to stare at him, eyes wide, and grabbed for the dash when the truck jounced through a pothole. "You're kidding."

"Nope."

"What did she blackmail her with?"

"I don't know. I don't want to know. All I cared about was staying with Kate, and Kate made it happen. She made Jane give her custody." He smiled at her. "And here I am."

She drew a deep breath. "Yeah. Yes, you are. Did I say thank you for today? It's been fun."

"Yeah," he said, happily. "It has, hasn't it?"

"Pull over," she said impulsively.

"Huh?"

"Pull over. There, at that trailhead."

"How come?" Johnny said, obediently pulling over and putting the pickup into park.

"So I can do this." She slid across the bench seat and put her arms around his neck. She smiled at him, a little shyly, and kissed him. Her lips were warm and soft, and she smelled faintly of flowers, and maybe a little bit of wood smoke.

"Wow," he said, dazed, when she raised her head.

Her cheeks were pink. "There," she said. "Our first kiss. Now we don't have to fumble around worrying about if you want to, or if I want you to."

"I want to," he said fervently. "I've wanted to for a long time."

"I know," she said. "I wasn't ready."

"It's okay," he said, anxious that she wouldn't take his comment as a rebuke.

"Yes, it is," she said smartly, and he had to laugh.

They drove home in a glow of delicious contentment. They got back to Niniltna at about three thirty, safely past the hour school let out, and they stopped by Auntie Vi's. They found her in her net loft, a length of salmon net draped in front of her, thin green monofilament in a spool at her feet, the needle a blur as she mended the holes put in it by last summer's salmon catch. "Hey, girl," she said as they came up the stairs. "You want job?"

"I've never mended nets before, Auntie," Vanessa said.

Auntie Vi waved a hand. "No problem, I teach. Tomorrow morning, you come." She eyed Johnny. "What you want?"

Wise in the ways of Auntie Vi, Johnny was not put off by this brusque inquiry, and told her she might have a paying guest shortly.

She grunted. "Maybe I got room, maybe I don't."

"Maybe he'll come and maybe he won't," Johnny said promptly.

"You watch that mouth before your elders!" Auntie Vi said, but he saw the corners of her mouth twitch irrepressibly upward as they left.

When he drew up outside Annie Mike's, he made as if to kiss her. She warded him off. "Not where people can see us," she said. "That kind of thing should be private, and personal. Besides, we'd have to answer a bunch of questions, and then Annie'd want to have the talk again, and she'd tell Kate-"

He held up a hand in pretend despair. "Got the picture. I am convinced." He smiled at her. "But you want to."

She laughed, and hesitated. "Listen, Johnny. This Greenbaugh guy?"

"Yeah?"

Her brow creased, and she looked down at her clasped hands. He waited. She looked up and said simply, "He has eyes like a calculator."

There was a brief, startled silence.

"I don't know what that means," Johnny said tentatively. "I'm guessing you don't like him?"

She chose not to answer him, or to answer only obliquely. "He gave you a ride when you needed one, and he didn't try to mess with you. Those are good things."

"But?"

She looked up to give him a grave smile. "I don't know, exactly. I just get the feeling there is a lot more going on there than he lets on."

It was one thing for him to second-guess Greenbaugh's sudden appearance. It was another to fall in with Van's doubts. Johnny snorted. "Him and every second Park rat we know."

"Yeah." She slid out of the pickup. "Thanks again for today. I had a good time."

"Me, too. Tomorrow?"

She shook her head. "I'd love to, but I'm working for Auntie Vi tomorrow."

"Oh yeah, that's right."

"What do we say if they find out we skipped school?"

"Don't lie," he said. "Will Kate ground you?"

He grinned and patted the steering wheel, chock-full of sixteen years' worth of bravado. "She can try."