Orbis by Scott Mackay

Author:Scott Mackay [Mackay, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-625673-51-0
Publisher: Jabberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.
Published: 2019-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

June didn’t have the money to pay for a bus or a taxi out to West Shelby, so she rode her bike. The Nordstrums’ white bungalow came into view. Compared to the Manse, it was a hovel. She headed up the muddy drive, her legs trembling from the long ride. Ingrid came out onto the front porch, looking pale and tired.

June got off her bicycle and leaned it against the willow tree.

“You look hot and thirsty, dear,” said Ingrid. “Why don’t you come in and have some lemonade? I’ve just made a fresh batch. With real lemons.”

“Thanks, Ingrid,” she said.

She climbed the porch steps and followed Ingrid inside. The house smelled musty. “So I take it you’ve heard?” asked June.

They entered the kitchen. “Heard what?” said Ingrid.

“Henrik Rydberg says he saw Eric traveling in a barge into the Restricted Zone with the Cardinal and two other men.”

Ingrid’s face settled. “I heard,” she said, obviously annoyed by Henrik’s blabbermouth ways.

She took the lemonade out of the fridge, put it on the table, and got some glasses from the cupboard. The corners of her mouth sank. She looked old, as if the last couple of months had aged her. As she poured lemonade into the glasses, June couldn’t help noticing that the backs of her hands were sunburned.

“Sit down, June” said Ingrid.

June sat down. “I just want you to know that I’m sorry about Neil, Ingrid,” she said. “I couldn’t go ahead with it. I hope we can still be friends.”

Ingrid’s face softened. “We’ll always be friends, dear,” she said. Her blue eyes were focused, and it was as if she were searching for something inside June, a special understanding, a certain willingness. “Neil’s not Neil anymore, is he, June?” she said. “I think you have a right to know that more than anybody.”

June wasn’t sure what she meant. “He’s changed a good deal,” she said.

“That’s not what I meant, dear,” she said. “He’s really not Neil.” Ingrid sketched it in for her, the whole harrowing story. “So when I say Neil isn’t Neil anymore, I really mean it.”

June sat still for a long time. Grief settled around her like a black fog.

Ingrid said, “I would sometimes smell that electrical smell whenever he was around,” and June now remembered that time out at the buoy, that same smell coming out of nowhere, without a Benefactor in sight. “What Eric’s doing is a brave thing, and I wish Henrik Rydberg would just keep his big mouth shut about it.”

June was only half listening. She was distraught. She didn’t want to believe that Neil wasn’t Neil anymore, or that he was actually gone for good. She loved the old Neil so much.

“Henrik Rydberg’s reported it to the police,” she said.

“Oh, dear,” said Ingrid.

When June finally left, tears filled her eyes. She waved as she rode down the drive, but turned quickly away because she didn’t want Ingrid to see her cry. She pedaled—in anger, and in heartbreak—faster and faster, as if by riding at break-neck speed she might escape the awful desolation that filled her soul.

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