Vera Bethel left work early. She had to skip lunch and agree to switch shifts for a night to do it, but she felt it might be worth it in order to spend a little more time with her brother, who was apparently seeking to make amends. She went to the grocery store first, already planning out the perfect dinner--one she'd had in mind for three months now, just in case a special occasion presented itself. She always made advance plans for special occasions, but very seldom did she have the opportunity to use them. This time was different, though. This time she had actual guests. She realized how desperate and lonely that sort of thinking seemed but refused to let it damper her spirit this day.
Her cart was full. The original main course was to be chicken parmesan, but she wondered whether Vitus had become a vegetarian in the years he was away. She decided on eggplant instead. She should have been a chef, she thought to herself, suddenly jealous of Vitus without even knowing where he'd been or what he did for a living. She had practically had been preparing for it her entire adult life, starting with the dinner parties she organized in her younger days. When the opportunity to attend a culinary school presented itself, she very seriously considered it. After all, the New Bakersfield Baking Academy was one of the leading pie-based educational institutions in the entire world. The founder, one Hieronymous Apple--whose claim to fame was his discovery of a new kind of dumpling-- personally visited Vera's home when she was twenty years old. It seems another of Apple's students had spoken of Vera's famed dinner parties and the spectacular chess pies she often prepared for them, but Vera declined the invitation. She had become a part of Tristesse, and though she had no one there to care for, she could not bear to leave it just yet.
Before her shopping was done, Vera rolled her cart down the baking aisle and stared at the pre-made pie crusts. Tonight would be a good night for a chess pie, she thought to herself, though she had not made one in several years. Maybe Vitus' visit was exactly the push she needed to get out on her own and finally leave Tristesse behind. She wondered whether Apple's invitation was packaged with an expiration date.
Vera left the market with several large and loaded paper bags in her hands. As she rounded the corner of Elm and Maple Streets, she saw a familiar figure up the road. Vitus was out for a walk with Jenn and a strange man in a brown suit.
"Vitus!" she yelled. "Vitus over here!" She was thrilled to have some help with her bags.
Distantly, she saw Vitus shake his head and apparently argue with the man in the brown suit, who slipped something into his suit pocket and whispered in Vitus' ear as she approached.
"Here, you can take this one," she said, handing one of the larger bags to Vitus. "Be careful, it has eggs."
Vitus stumbled for words. "Um, okay," he finally said.
Vera smiled at the man in the brown suit, and he politely grinned back. "Hello," she said. "I'm Vera, Vitus' sister."
"Of course you are," said the man in the brown suit. "What a nice surprise. I'm an old acquaintance of your brother's."
"Well, then, let's get these groceries to the house."
Neither Vitus, Jenn, nor the man in the brown suit spoke as they marched in a single file line to Vera's house. She fumbled for her keys and then let them all inside.
"Well, now," said the man in the brown suit. He pulled a handgun from his coat pocket and pointed it back and forth between the three others. When Vera saw it, her eyes opened wide, and she felt the sudden urge to scream bloody murder. Her cooler head prevailed and simply stared at the man in the gun, memorizing every feature of his body in order to give the police a more accurate description. She at least hoped she'd have the chance to tell the police, anyway.
"I was going to let one of you go," he said to Vitus and Jenn, "but this is even better. Looks like I get to keep you both. You." He pointed the gun at Vera. She fought the urge to faint. The gunman then slipped a folded piece of paper into the one grocery bag Vera still carried in her hands. "There's a boat at the dock. I want you to go there and deliver a message to the men on it. One is young and blond. The other old and gray. Can you do this for me?"
Vera nodded slowly.
"Good," said the man in the brown suit. "And one more thing..." He bent in close and whispered something in her ear. She nodded again. "Good girl. Now go."
As Vera left the house that she and Vitus had shared for the one brief year they both lived with their grandmother, she flashed Vitus a look. It wasn't one of hatred or disdain, like the ones she had previously been practicing and saving in case she ever did run into him again. No, this was a questioning look--one of fear and confusion, though with just the slightest touch of anger. It was a look that said, "Vitus, what have you done?"
Hayes was sitting at the picnic table aboard the boat named Bess when the girl approached. He'd left Philip alone inside with the comics to give him time to be drawn in, no matter how briefly, to a fantasy world that wasn't as bleak as the real one. Philip had been in for awhile, Hayes thought, long enough to finish that Silver Surfer he'd given him and long enough to read a few others if he was so inclined.
"Damn," he muttered to himself. "Wish I'd brought me something to read."
He heard the sound of footsteps against the wooden plank that led from the dock to the deck of the ship. He turned to see a girl climbing aboard. She was tall and wore a pair of glasses with a thin black frame. She also looked familiar, but Hayes had definitely never seen her before. It was more of a family resemblance. She carried a bag of groceries in her hands, which Hayes found particularly peculiar.
"Excuse me," he called out. "I believe you got the wrong boat."
She didn't say anything until she walked up to him, and then she looked at him with bloodshot eyes. Hayes knew she had been crying.
"Where's the other one?" she asked. "The one with the blond hair?"
Hayes stood up slowly and shuffled to the cabin. "Phil," he called inside, "you better get out here."
Philip put away the copy of Ghost Rider he'd just started on and peeked out onto the deck to see the girl with the groceries and Hayes staring at him with a more-confused-than-usual look on his face.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"This girl wants to see ya."
"I have something for you," she said. "A note--it's in the bag."
She approached Philip cautiously and held the bag out for him to see. Philip thought a moment and then plunged his hand into the sack, searching for the supposed note, but he could find nothing.
The girl leaned in. "It might be under the pie crust," she whispered, as if it was a dark, terrible secret.
Philip shrugged and checked under the pie crust, and sure enough, there was a folded piece of paper. He pulled it out and began to read.
"What is it?" Hayes asked.
Philip looked up at him but said nothing. There was a certain intensity in his eyes that Hayes could only describe as very, very angry.
"Are you Hayes?" the girl asked the old captain.
"Yeah. How do you know me, kiddo?"
"I have a message for you, too. I'm sorry, but he said to do this," said the girl, and she very slowly held up her hand and extended her middle finger.
"Son of a bitch," said Hayes. "Hemingway."
"He's got them," said Philip as he passed the note to Hayes. "He wants to arrange a trade--Vitus and Jenn for the settee."
"Wait," said the girl. "What's going on? What does my brother have to do with any of this?"
Philip and Hayes exchanged glances.
"Vitus is your brother?" asked Philip.
"Yes, and if he's in trouble, I want to know about it."
"What's your name?" asked Hayes.
"Vera."
"Vera, your brother's fine. Don't worry about him. Just head on home and forget any of this ever happened. That'd be best for you," said Hayes.
"I'm not going anywhere until I know what's going on."
"Excuse us for just a second," said Philip, pulling Hayes into the cabin for a short talk. "What do you think?" he asked. "Should we tell her?"
"What the hell do I care? Might not be too good for her health if she knows any more," said Hayes. "But Hemingway already knows what she looks like and probably who she is."
Philip nodded and pulled Hayes back out onto the deck.
"I'm going to be honest with you, Vera," he said. "Your brother is on the run from a Russian antique collector."
"That doesn't sound very honest," she replied.
"It is the complete, utter truth, and I'm only telling you this because you're already too far involved. We've been helping him, and he's been helping us. Just believe me when I say that we know what we're doing, and we're going to get him back in one piece. He's been in much, much worse than this. The best thing you can do is go back home, go to bed early tonight, and pretend this was all a dream."
"More like a nightmare," she said. "What's your name?"
"Philip."
"How do I know I can believe a word you say, Philip?"
"Because I'm not pointing a gun at you," he said.
"That's a good start. How will I know when Vitus is okay?"
"He'll call you. I'll make sure of it."
So the antique-dealer's sister finally agreed that perhaps leaving this behind was in her best interest, and she returned to her home, where she prepared eggplant parmesan for one and a fresh chess pie that would go mostly un-eaten. She thought much differently of her brother after that. He was no longer the cruel, selfish man she'd hoped he would be. Now she could only wonder if he was all right.
Her cart was full. The original main course was to be chicken parmesan, but she wondered whether Vitus had become a vegetarian in the years he was away. She decided on eggplant instead. She should have been a chef, she thought to herself, suddenly jealous of Vitus without even knowing where he'd been or what he did for a living. She had practically had been preparing for it her entire adult life, starting with the dinner parties she organized in her younger days. When the opportunity to attend a culinary school presented itself, she very seriously considered it. After all, the New Bakersfield Baking Academy was one of the leading pie-based educational institutions in the entire world. The founder, one Hieronymous Apple--whose claim to fame was his discovery of a new kind of dumpling-- personally visited Vera's home when she was twenty years old. It seems another of Apple's students had spoken of Vera's famed dinner parties and the spectacular chess pies she often prepared for them, but Vera declined the invitation. She had become a part of Tristesse, and though she had no one there to care for, she could not bear to leave it just yet.
Before her shopping was done, Vera rolled her cart down the baking aisle and stared at the pre-made pie crusts. Tonight would be a good night for a chess pie, she thought to herself, though she had not made one in several years. Maybe Vitus' visit was exactly the push she needed to get out on her own and finally leave Tristesse behind. She wondered whether Apple's invitation was packaged with an expiration date.
Vera left the market with several large and loaded paper bags in her hands. As she rounded the corner of Elm and Maple Streets, she saw a familiar figure up the road. Vitus was out for a walk with Jenn and a strange man in a brown suit.
"Vitus!" she yelled. "Vitus over here!" She was thrilled to have some help with her bags.
Distantly, she saw Vitus shake his head and apparently argue with the man in the brown suit, who slipped something into his suit pocket and whispered in Vitus' ear as she approached.
"Here, you can take this one," she said, handing one of the larger bags to Vitus. "Be careful, it has eggs."
Vitus stumbled for words. "Um, okay," he finally said.
Vera smiled at the man in the brown suit, and he politely grinned back. "Hello," she said. "I'm Vera, Vitus' sister."
"Of course you are," said the man in the brown suit. "What a nice surprise. I'm an old acquaintance of your brother's."
"Well, then, let's get these groceries to the house."
Neither Vitus, Jenn, nor the man in the brown suit spoke as they marched in a single file line to Vera's house. She fumbled for her keys and then let them all inside.
"Well, now," said the man in the brown suit. He pulled a handgun from his coat pocket and pointed it back and forth between the three others. When Vera saw it, her eyes opened wide, and she felt the sudden urge to scream bloody murder. Her cooler head prevailed and simply stared at the man in the gun, memorizing every feature of his body in order to give the police a more accurate description. She at least hoped she'd have the chance to tell the police, anyway.
"I was going to let one of you go," he said to Vitus and Jenn, "but this is even better. Looks like I get to keep you both. You." He pointed the gun at Vera. She fought the urge to faint. The gunman then slipped a folded piece of paper into the one grocery bag Vera still carried in her hands. "There's a boat at the dock. I want you to go there and deliver a message to the men on it. One is young and blond. The other old and gray. Can you do this for me?"
Vera nodded slowly.
"Good," said the man in the brown suit. "And one more thing..." He bent in close and whispered something in her ear. She nodded again. "Good girl. Now go."
As Vera left the house that she and Vitus had shared for the one brief year they both lived with their grandmother, she flashed Vitus a look. It wasn't one of hatred or disdain, like the ones she had previously been practicing and saving in case she ever did run into him again. No, this was a questioning look--one of fear and confusion, though with just the slightest touch of anger. It was a look that said, "Vitus, what have you done?"
***
Hayes was sitting at the picnic table aboard the boat named Bess when the girl approached. He'd left Philip alone inside with the comics to give him time to be drawn in, no matter how briefly, to a fantasy world that wasn't as bleak as the real one. Philip had been in for awhile, Hayes thought, long enough to finish that Silver Surfer he'd given him and long enough to read a few others if he was so inclined.
"Damn," he muttered to himself. "Wish I'd brought me something to read."
He heard the sound of footsteps against the wooden plank that led from the dock to the deck of the ship. He turned to see a girl climbing aboard. She was tall and wore a pair of glasses with a thin black frame. She also looked familiar, but Hayes had definitely never seen her before. It was more of a family resemblance. She carried a bag of groceries in her hands, which Hayes found particularly peculiar.
"Excuse me," he called out. "I believe you got the wrong boat."
She didn't say anything until she walked up to him, and then she looked at him with bloodshot eyes. Hayes knew she had been crying.
"Where's the other one?" she asked. "The one with the blond hair?"
Hayes stood up slowly and shuffled to the cabin. "Phil," he called inside, "you better get out here."
Philip put away the copy of Ghost Rider he'd just started on and peeked out onto the deck to see the girl with the groceries and Hayes staring at him with a more-confused-than-usual look on his face.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"This girl wants to see ya."
"I have something for you," she said. "A note--it's in the bag."
She approached Philip cautiously and held the bag out for him to see. Philip thought a moment and then plunged his hand into the sack, searching for the supposed note, but he could find nothing.
The girl leaned in. "It might be under the pie crust," she whispered, as if it was a dark, terrible secret.
Philip shrugged and checked under the pie crust, and sure enough, there was a folded piece of paper. He pulled it out and began to read.
"What is it?" Hayes asked.
Philip looked up at him but said nothing. There was a certain intensity in his eyes that Hayes could only describe as very, very angry.
"Are you Hayes?" the girl asked the old captain.
"Yeah. How do you know me, kiddo?"
"I have a message for you, too. I'm sorry, but he said to do this," said the girl, and she very slowly held up her hand and extended her middle finger.
"Son of a bitch," said Hayes. "Hemingway."
"He's got them," said Philip as he passed the note to Hayes. "He wants to arrange a trade--Vitus and Jenn for the settee."
"Wait," said the girl. "What's going on? What does my brother have to do with any of this?"
Philip and Hayes exchanged glances.
"Vitus is your brother?" asked Philip.
"Yes, and if he's in trouble, I want to know about it."
"What's your name?" asked Hayes.
"Vera."
"Vera, your brother's fine. Don't worry about him. Just head on home and forget any of this ever happened. That'd be best for you," said Hayes.
"I'm not going anywhere until I know what's going on."
"Excuse us for just a second," said Philip, pulling Hayes into the cabin for a short talk. "What do you think?" he asked. "Should we tell her?"
"What the hell do I care? Might not be too good for her health if she knows any more," said Hayes. "But Hemingway already knows what she looks like and probably who she is."
Philip nodded and pulled Hayes back out onto the deck.
"I'm going to be honest with you, Vera," he said. "Your brother is on the run from a Russian antique collector."
"That doesn't sound very honest," she replied.
"It is the complete, utter truth, and I'm only telling you this because you're already too far involved. We've been helping him, and he's been helping us. Just believe me when I say that we know what we're doing, and we're going to get him back in one piece. He's been in much, much worse than this. The best thing you can do is go back home, go to bed early tonight, and pretend this was all a dream."
"More like a nightmare," she said. "What's your name?"
"Philip."
"How do I know I can believe a word you say, Philip?"
"Because I'm not pointing a gun at you," he said.
"That's a good start. How will I know when Vitus is okay?"
"He'll call you. I'll make sure of it."
So the antique-dealer's sister finally agreed that perhaps leaving this behind was in her best interest, and she returned to her home, where she prepared eggplant parmesan for one and a fresh chess pie that would go mostly un-eaten. She thought much differently of her brother after that. He was no longer the cruel, selfish man she'd hoped he would be. Now she could only wonder if he was all right.
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