Archer's Voice

Archer's Voice Page 4

CHAPTER 4

Bree

I started work at Norm's Diner early the next morning. Norm himself worked the kitchen and was mostly grumpy and grumbly, and he didn't talk to me much, but I saw him shoot Maggie looks that could only be described as adoring. I suspected that he was really just a big softie–he didn't scare me. I also knew I was a good waitress and that Maggie's stress-level had dropped significantly an hour after I started, and so I figured I had an in with Norm right off the bat.

The diner was bustling, the work straightforward, and the locals who ate there pleasant. I couldn't complain, and the first couple of days went by quickly and smoothly.

On Wednesday after I got off work, I drove home, showered, changed and pulled on my swimsuit and a pair of jean shorts and a white tank top, intending on going down to the lake and doing a little exploring. I put Phoebe's leash on her and locked up behind me.

As I was leaving my house, Anne called to me from her yard where she was watering the rosebushes. I walked over to her smiling.

"How are you settling in?" she asked me, setting her watering can down and walking over to her fence where I was standing.

"Good! I've been meaning to come over and thank you for letting me know about the position at the diner. I got it and I'm waitressing there."

"Oh that's great! Maggie's a gem. Don't let Norm scare you off–he's all bark and no bite."

I laughed. "I figured that out pretty quickly." I winked. "No, it's been good. I was just going to drive down the road and check out the lake a little bit."

"Oh, good. The docks don't make for a very good walk right here–of course, you probably figured that out. If you go down to Briar Road, you can follow the signs to the small beach." She gave me brief directions and then added, "If you want it, I have a bike that I don't use anymore. With my arthritis, I just can't grip the handlebars so that I feel safe. But it's practically new and it even has a basket for your dog." She looked down at the little dog in question. "Hi there. What's your name?" She smiled down at Phoebe and Phoebe chuffed happily, dancing around a bit.

"Say hi, Phoebe." I smiled.

"What a cute girl you are," Anne said, bending down slightly to let Phoebe lick her hand.

She stood up and said, "The bike is in my spare bedroom. Would you like to see it?"

I paused. "Are you sure? I mean, I would love to ride a bike down to the lake rather than take my car."

"Yes, yes," she waved me toward her as she started to walk to her house. "I would love to see it put to use. I used to pick blueberries up that way. They grow wild. Bring a couple bags and you can put them in the bike basket when you're done. Do you bake?"

"Um," I said, following her in to her cottage, "I used to. I haven't in a while."

She glanced back at me. "Well, maybe the blueberries will inspire you to pick up an apron again." She smiled as she opened a door right off the main room.

Her cottage was casually decorated with well-used, slipcovered furniture and lots of knick knacks and framed photos. The smell of dried eucalyptus hung in the air. It immediately felt comforting and happy.

"Here we go," Anne said, wheeling a bike out of the room she had entered seconds before. I couldn't help grinning. It was one of those old-fashioned bikes with a big basket on the front.

"Oh my goodness! It's fabulous. Are you sure you want me using this?"

"Nothing would make me happier, dear. In fact, if it works for you, you keep it."

I smiled at her, wheeling it out onto her porch. "Thank you so much. This is so kind of you. I really… thank you."

She came out behind me and helped me lift it down the stairs. "My pleasure. It makes me happy to know it's being used and enjoyed."

I smiled again, admiring it, when something occurred to me. "Oh! Can I ask you a question? I ran into someone in town, and someone else I met mentioned that he lives at the end of Briar Road. Archer Hale? Do you know him?"

Anne frowned, looking thoughtful at the same time. "Yes, I know of him anyway. You'll actually be passing right by his land on your way to the small beach. You can't miss it–it's really the only property on that stretch of road." She looked thoughtful for a second. "Yes, Archer Hale… I remember him as a sweet little boy. Doesn't talk now though. Suppose it's because he doesn't hear."

I tilted my head. "Do you know what happened to him exactly?"

She paused. "There was a big car crash outside of town right about the time my Bill got his diagnosis. Suppose I didn't pay quite as much attention to the details as the rest of the town did–just grieved along with them. But what I do know, is that Archer's parents and his uncle, Connor Hale, the owner of the town and the Chief of Police, died that day, and that whatever afflicts Archer happened in that accident. Hmm, now let me think…" She paused. "He went to live with his other uncle, Nathan Hale. But he died three or four years ago–some kind of cancer from what I recall." She looked past me, staring into space for a couple seconds. "Some in town say he isn't right in the head, Archer, I mean. But I don't know about that. Might just be them passing off his uncle's personality onto him. My younger sister went to school with Nathan Hale and he never was quite right. Wicked smart, but always slightly strange. And when he came home from the army, he was even more… different."

I frowned up at her. "And they still sent a little boy to live with him?"

"Oh well, I suppose he presented okay to the county. And anyway, far as I know, he was the only family that boy had left." She went quiet again for a minute. "Haven't talked about the original Hale boys in years now. But they sure did always cause a stir. Hmm." She was quiet again for a few beats. "Now that I think about it, it really is a sad situation with the younger Hale boy. Sometimes in small towns, people who have been around forever sort of… become part of the backdrop, I guess. In the town's attempt to move past the tragedy, Archer might have just gotten lost in the mix. Such a shame."

Anne lapsed into silence again, seeming to be lost in the past and I thought I'd better be off.

"Hmm, well," I smiled, "thanks again for the directions. I'll stop by later."

Anne brightened and seemed to snap back to the present. "Yes, that would be nice. Have a lovely day!" She smiled and turned back around and grabbed the watering can she had sat down on her porch as I wheeled the bike through her front gate.

I put Phoebe in the basket and as I got on the bike and pedaled slowly toward the entrance of Briar Road, I thought about what Anne had told me about the Hale brothers, and about Archer Hale. It didn't seem like anyone knew the exact story of what had happened to Archer–or they had forgotten the details? I knew what it was like to lose both your parents, not in one fell swoop though. How would you even begin to deal with something like that? Did your mind allow you to process one loss at a time–wouldn't you go crazy with grief if that much of it inundated your heart at once? Some days I felt like I was barely holding on to my emotions from moment to moment. I supposed that we all coped in our different ways–pain and healing as individual as the people who experienced them.

The sight of what must be his property snapped me out of my own thoughts. There was a high fence surrounding it, the tops of trees too numerous and too thick to see anything beyond the high structure. I craned my neck to see how far the fence went, but it was hard to tell from the road, and there were woods on either side. My eyes returned to the front of the fence where I could see a latch, but it was closed.

I wasn't sure why I stood there, just looking at it and listening to the mosquitos buzz. But after a few minutes, Phoebe barked softly, and I continued to head down the road to the beach access where Anne had directed me.

I spent a few hours down at the lakeshore, swimming and sunning myself. Phoebe lay on a corner of my towel in the shade, sleeping contentedly. It was a hot August day, but the breeze off of the lake and the shade of the trees behind the shore made it comfortable. There were a few people further down the small beach area, but it was mostly deserted. I figured that that was because this side of the lake was only used by locals. I lay back on the towel I had brought and looked up at the tips of the swaying trees and the patches of bright blue sky, listening to the lapping water. After a few minutes, I closed my eyes, just intending to rest, but instead fell asleep.

I dreamed of my dad. Only this time, he hadn't died right away. He crawled into the kitchen just in time to see the man dart out the back door.

"You're alive!" I said, beginning to sit up off the floor where the man had left me.

He nodded, a gentle smile on his face.

"You're okay?" I asked haltingly, fearful.

"Yes," he said and I startled for my dad had never used his voice, only his hands.

"You can speak," I whispered.

"Yes," he said again, laughing slightly. "Of course." But it was then that I noticed that his lips weren't moving.

"I want you back, dad," I said, my eyes tearing up. "I miss you so much."

His face went serious and it looked like the distance between us was increasing even though neither of us had moved. "I'm so sorry you can't have us both, Little Bee," he said, using my nickname.

"Both?" I whispered, confused, watching the distance between us grow even more.

Suddenly, he was gone and I was alone. I was crying, and my eyes were closed, but I could feel a presence standing over me.

I startled awake, warm tears coursing down my cheeks, the very edges of the dream fading into mist. As I lay there trying to gather my emotions, I swore I heard the sound of someone moving away, through the woods behind me.

I got into the diner early the next morning. Despite sleeping well, I had had a particularly bad flashback that morning, and I was having trouble shaking the melancholy that still clung to me.

I dove into the morning rush, keeping my head down and my mind occupied with the business of taking orders, delivering food, and refilling coffee. By nine when the diner started to empty out, I was feeling better, lighter.

I was re-stocking the condiments at the counter when the door to the diner opened and a young man in a police uniform walked in. He removed his hat and ran his hand through his short, wavy brown hair before he nodded over at Maggie, who smiled back at him and called out, "Trav."

His gaze moved to me as he walked toward the counter and our eyes locked for a portion of a second. His face lit up with a smile, his straight, white teeth flashing as he took a seat in front of me. "Well, you must be the reason that Maggie's got a smile on her face this morning," he said, extending his hand. "I'm Travis Hale."

Oh, another Hale. I smiled back, taking his hand. "Hi Travis. Bree Prescott."

He sat down, bringing his long legs under the counter. "Good to meet you, Bree. What brings you to Pelion?"

I chose my words carefully, not wanting to come off as some kind of weird nomad. Although, I supposed that was sort of what I was at the moment if I had decided to be completely truthful. "Well, Travis, I recently graduated college and decided to take sort of a freedom road-trip." I smiled. "Ended up here in your pretty little town."

He grinned. "Exploring while you can." He said. "I like it. Wish I had done more of that myself."

I smiled back, handing him a menu just as Maggie came up behind me. She grabbed the menu and tossed it under the counter. "Travis Hale must have that thing memorized by now," she said, winking at me. "Been coming in here since his mother had to sit him in a booster seat to reach the table. Speaking of your mother, how is she?"

He smiled. "Oh, she's fine. You know, she keeps busy, never lacking for a social circle. Plus, she's extra busy with all the town expansion plans."

Maggie's lips pursed, but she said, "Well, you tell her I said hi," and smiled kindly.

"Will do," Travis said, turning back to me.

"So your last name is Hale," I said. "You must be related to Archer Hale."

Travis's brows furrowed slightly and he looked confused for a small beat. "Archer? Yeah, he's my cousin. You know him?"

"Oh, no," I said, shaking my head. "I ran into him in town a few days ago and I asked about him… he was a little…"

"Weird?" Travis finished.

"Different," I corrected, considering. I waved my hand. "I've only met a few people and he was one of them so… I mean, not that I actually met him per se, but…" I grabbed the coffee pot off the machine and held it up to him questioningly. He nodded and I started to pour him a cup.

"Hard to meet someone who doesn't speak," Travis said. He looked thoughtful for a second. "I've tried with him over the years, but he just doesn't respond to niceties. He's in a world of his own. Sorry he was part of your welcome wagon. Anyway, good to have you here." He smiled, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Thanks," I said. "So you're a Pelion police officer?" I asked, stating the obvious, but just making conversation.

"Yup," he said.

"On track to become the Chief of Police," Maggie interrupted, "just like his daddy before him." She winked, walking by on her way back to the table next to the counter that we used for breaks.

Travis raised his eyebrows and smiled. "We'll see," he said, but he didn't look doubtful.

I just smiled at him, and he smiled up at me. I didn't mention that Anne had told me about his father, whom I assumed was Connor Hale. I thought it might sound weird if he knew that I had already asked about his family. Or at least, about the gist of the tragedy that had happened to them.

"Where are you staying?" he asked.

"Oh, right on the lake," I answered. "Rockwell Lane."

"In one of George Connick's rentals?"

I nodded.

"Well, Bree, I'd love to show you around sometime if you're available." His whiskey-colored eyes moved over me.

I smiled, studying him. He was handsome, there was no doubt about that. I was pretty sure he was asking me out, not just being friendly. Dating just wasn't the most brilliant idea for me at the moment though. "I'm sorry, Travis, things are kind of… complicated with me right now."

He studied me for a couple beats, and I flushed under his stare. "I’m a pretty simple kind of guy, Bree." He winked.

I laughed, thankful that he broke the tension. We chatted easily enough while he finished his coffee and as I continued to fill the condiments at the counter and tidy up.

Norm came out of the kitchen just as Travis was getting up to leave. "You flirting with my new waitress?" Norm grumped.

"I have to," Travis answered. "For some unknown reason, Maggie still won't leave your sour ass for me." Travis winked at Maggie who was wiping down a table next to the counter. "She'll come around one of these days though. I hold out hope."

Norm snorted, wiping his hands down the grease-stained apron covering his pot belly. "She comes home to this at night," he said. "What would she want with you?"

Travis chuckled, turning to leave, but calling to Maggie, "You come find me when you get tired of this ill-tempered lug."

Maggie laughed, patting her short, salt and pepper curls, and Norm grumbled his way back into the kitchen. At the door, Travis turned back around to me, saying, "My offer stands, Bree."

I smiled as he closed the door behind him.

"You watch out," Maggie said to me, "That boy will charm the pants right off of you." But she smiled as she said it.

I laughed, shaking my head and watching out the window as Travis Hale got in his police cruiser and pulled away from the curb.

That evening, I took my bike down Briar Road again and picked blueberries along the side of the road. When my bag was half full and my fingertips were stained dark purple, I started for home. On my way back, I sat on my bike on the side of the dusty road in front of Archer's property and looked at the fence in front of me for no particular reason–at least not one that I could explain to myself. After a few minutes, I started peddling home.

That night I dreamed that I was lying on the shore of the lake. I could feel sand beneath my bare skin, the granules biting into my flesh as I rocked against it, a man's welcome weight above me. There was no fear, no distress–I wanted him there. The water came up over my legs like smooth, cool silk caressing my skin and soothing the sting of the abrasive sand.

I woke up gasping, my nipples pebbled painfully against my t-shirt and my pulse beating rhythmically between my legs. I tossed and turned until I finally fell asleep, somewhere close to dawn.