his own. At the time he’d thought it quite the caper, and had marveled that his father had never caught him. It wasn’t until years later that he realized the men sitting around him, as well as the bartender, had known exactly who he was, likely sharing the knowledge of his presence to his father. He came to see that George had allowed him these small victories, and had counted on Ronny and the others to keep an eye on him.
When he’d walked in tonight, no one recognized him. With Ronny long retired, and the establishment passed to his son, Rick, the place seemed different, even with CJ’s warm memories. Rick had poured him a Labatt and left CJ alone, and the prodigal writer had remained that way until someone at the end of the bar outed him. After that, he’d spent about thirty minutes as a celebrity— with several commenting on the golden arm that would have taken him to either the Yankees or the Red Sox, depending on the personal preference of the speaker—before interest had waned and he was once again left in peace. And that was fine with him, because he was in no mood to be the center of attention.
His visit with his mother had left him with a jumble of thoughts that, except when he wrote, remained relegated to the attic-like portions of his brain. And even during those times, when they were pulled out and dusted off, held up to whatever light enabled him to transfer them to the screen via the blinking cursor, the more life-defining moments remained snugly in their places. Tonight, though, things were different, rawer. It was impossible to be in this town without considering the weightier things.
CJ was ten when Graham killed Eddie.
His back is numb against the thick lines of bark running along the massive maple tree when the voices wake him. The first thing he feels when he hears them, after the guilt associated with having fallen asleep, is annoyance that Graham and Eddie have scared off any deer within a mile. It’s been at least an hour since he picked his spot and settled onto a cushion of brown leaves, shotgun resting across his lap, and now that time is wasted.
The only cold he feels is on his nose, and he rubs it with a gloved hand, unconcerned now about giving his position away to any lurking deer. He’d left Graham in a tree stand about thirty yards to the north, and Eddie was supposed to have picked a spot southeast of there, which would have allowed them to box in anything that came over the ridge and started down into the depression over which CJ has been sitting watch. But it sounds like Graham is out of the stand and, the morning now wasted, CJ rises on stiff legs, brushes the leaves and dirt from his pants, and starts toward the voices.
Leaves crunch beneath his boots as he walks. He keeps the gun pointed up and over his left shoulder, but even at only ten years old, his eyes scan the forest as if he were a veteran. The joke is that you never know when you will run into a deaf deer.
CJ is still too far away to hear clearly what his brother and Eddie are shouting at each other, but he catches bits and pieces and isn’t surprised to hear the name Jennifer mentioned more than once. Graham and Eddie’s long friendship has been suffering for the last month with the introduction of this new element, and while even CJ suspects that Jennifer Caldwell is all right as far as girls go, he can’t understand how she could come between two best friends on a morning like this.And now she has—albeit unknowingly—insinuated herself into what is to CJ almost as holy an activity as any of the duties he performs as an altar boy at St. Anthony’s. CJ thinks that if Graham is going to get him up at four in the morning, he could at least stay quiet until they get a deer.
He follows the sound of the boys’ voices, the path of his boots arcing slightly as he adjusts his course in response to the noise they are making.It seems to take a while to get there, and at some point the voices give way to silence—only it isn’t silence, but maybe the half sounds people make when they’re giving and receiving punches.
CJ sighs and considers turning around and heading