Chapter 27. Alice
ALICE
It was cooler in the basement, but windowless, and it smelled stale and musty.
The ceiling was low and unfinished, with exposed beams. Pink fiberglass insulation was coming apart in sections, plastic sheets torn and hanging down.
Cobwebs caught in Alice’s hair, and she swatted them away.
They had light, but it wasn’t much, just one lightbulb with a pull cord.
Alice helped William and Ruth dig through their storage. Pieces of furniture. Old clothes, Christmas decorations, magazines, mismatched dishes, toys, and boxes of books. Ruth’s cheeks pinkened and her eyes glittered mischievously when she said, “I love my romances.”
William chuckled.
Among it all, they found some winter clothing and sleeping bags that had belonged to their children. They used everything to form two beds. Tom and Alice against one wall, and Ruth and William against another. They could see each other but it gave a sense of privacy.
William’s distillery was near the bottom of the stairs, where Alice located several galvanized buckets that they could use for their personal needs. She set them in a discreet corner.
If they got hungry, they could break into Ruth’s preserves. Alice hoped they didn’t have to. The truck would be fixed soon. She didn’t let herself consider the fact that Simon and Jenny could just drive away and leave them locked in the basement. Surely, Jenny wouldn’t do that.
Their makeshift beds weren’t large by any means, but Alice and Tom could fit if she stayed on her side and avoided bumping his arm.
She desperately wished they had water—for drinking and washing.
The best she could do was brush the tangles out of her hair and rub toothpaste around in her mouth.
She helped Tom put on a shirt and combed his hair.
There was nothing to do after that but settle on the bed.
They talked a little with the other couple, about their families, what their lives were like before all of this.
One of William and Ruth’s sons was in the navy, and the other a foreman on an oil rig in Alberta.
Their daughter had married a lawyer and now had three children of her own.
Ruth rummaged through the boxes to pull out some of their old school crafts, her hands touching them gently as she and William looked over them together.
Alice fought back tears. She couldn’t imagine how much they must miss their children, how scared they must be that they might not see them again.
William, the only one wearing a watch, announced each hour as it slowly passed by. After a while, they drifted into silence. William fell asleep. Alice couldn’t see much of Ruth, who was tucked into the shadow behind William. She was quiet. Alice hoped she was sleeping too.
Tom’s eyes were closed, but she knew he was only resting because he was holding her hand with his good arm, and every so often he’d give it a squeeze. Bones was curled on a blanket on the concrete floor by Ruth and William’s mattress, his snout under his tail.
Tom turned his head to look at Alice. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Everything you’ve been doing. You’re holding all of us together.”
“You would do the same.”
“I got knocked out in the first quarter.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“I’m just really proud. I thought I knew everything about you, but then you’re dealing with these lunatics, driving the RV like it’s a race car.”
“Does that mean you’re going to let me drive our car more?” She smiled at him, sure that he would say no. He hated sitting in the passenger’s seat. But he gave her a serious look.
“Yeah. I should.”
“Pardon?”
“What do you want to do after this?”
“I don’t understand what we’re talking about.”
“You said you could get a job, and I dismissed you, because I didn’t want you to feel like you had to work, but I’ve had days to think now. Do you want a job?”
Alice was confused by the prickle at the back of her eyes, the thickness in her throat. She didn’t understand why Tom’s words were having such an effect on her. She took a few breaths and thought about what he was saying. What did she want?
“It might be nice to work with children.” She was surprised by her answer.
She’d thought it would be too painful to care for other people’s children, but maybe she was wrong, because for the first time, she could see it.
A daycare or classroom, the smell of paints, crayons, and glue.
Decorating for each holiday. Little kids running in and greeting her, calling her Mrs. Bell.
“You’d be great at that,” Tom said.
“I think I would be too,” she said, feeling almost hopeful, until she looked around and remembered where they were. Her smile disappeared. Tom squeezed her hand.
“We’re going to get out of here, okay? Then we’ll figure this all out.”
She gave his hand a grateful squeeze back.
Alice wasn’t sure what time it was now. She guessed maybe early evening.
Tom’s stomach was gurgling, and despite her constant anxiety, her own stomach felt hollow and aching.
She stared up at the ceiling and traced the highway of pipes that crisscrossed through the wood beams. Alice startled at the scraping sound of the hatch lifting. She looked toward the stairs.
Simon shouted, “Alice, we need dinner.”
She assumed that Simon didn’t want to come down the steps in case they’d set up an ambush, which maybe they should consider. She’d talk to Tom about it later. She glanced at him.
He frowned. “Why can’t they make their own meals?”
“Don’t know, but this way I can make sure we get food and water.” She got to her feet.
“There’s the fixings for a casserole,” Ruth said. “Cooked a chicken up yesterday.”
“Can you ask about the animals?” William said, awake now. “Raccoons will kill the chickens if they’re out all night.”
“I’ll try my best.”
“Bones needs to go outside, and he’s got to be fed too,” Ruth said.
“What’s taking so damn long?” Simon shouted again. “I can hear you talking.”
“I’m coming,” Alice yelled back. Bones lifted his head, watching her. “Do you want dinner?” With that, he got to his feet, stretched with a long groan, and followed her up the stairs.
Alice thought Simon might complain about the dog, but when she and Bones reached the top, Simon greeted him like an old friend, scratching around his neck, and rubbing his ears.
Jenny was curled up on the sofa in the living room, reading a book, a glass of iced tea in front of her. She shot Alice a quick glare, then shifted so that Alice could no longer see her face. A basket of folded clothes rested by her feet. They’d done laundry. How nice.
Alice didn’t think Jenny had told Simon about their earlier conversation. Simon would be a lot angrier. Simon dropped the hatch and pushed back the table and chairs.
He walked toward the back porch, patting the side of his hip. “Come on, boy.” Bones trotted after him and Simon opened the door. Bones disappeared into the soft evening light.
“I like that dog.” Simon stared into the backyard. “We should take him with us.” He yelled out, “What do you say, Bones? Want to go on a road trip?” Simon laughed and looked at Alice like he expected her to join in. She turned away.
The kitchen was tidy, their plates and glasses from earlier drying in the rack. She assumed Jenny had cleaned up. After being in the cool basement, the kitchen felt even hotter. The floor fan was running at top speed, but it was only blowing warm air around.
Simon dropped into one of the chairs and kicked his sneakers up onto the table.
“Hand me a beer.”
Alice got one out of the fridge and passed it to him. He took a bottle opener out of his pocket and easily popped the cap off, spinning it from his fingers across the kitchen. It landed somewhere in the corner. She wondered how many he’d had that afternoon.
“How are the repairs going?”
“They’re going.” He held her gaze and took a long slug of beer.
“What does that mean?”
“That means none of your business. Now get cooking.”
Alice sighed and opened the fridge, spying the roast chicken. A casserole would be easy, but she didn’t relish the idea of working around a hot oven. She glanced over at Simon. Then again, he’d have to suffer in the heat too. Maybe he’d drink himself into a stupor.
Alice found a casserole dish in the cupboard and gathered ingredients. She felt strange, like a trespasser, moving around in Ruth’s kitchen, with Ruth’s tidy handwriting on recipe cards, her red checkered apron on a hook, all the while the woman was trapped in her own basement.
A Tupperware container of blackberry oatmeal cookies was on the counter, the clear lid resting loosely on top. Alice pressed around the edges to seal it.
She pulled open drawers until she found the one with cutlery, and noticed immediately that there were no knives. She checked the drawer next to it and found ladles, whisks, spatulas.
She looked over her shoulder at Simon, who smirked at her.
“They’re all gone,” he said.
Alice turned back around. If he choked on a large piece of chicken, it would serve him right.
Without knives, Alice was forced to be creative with other kitchen utensils, but she managed to put together a somewhat messy chicken pasta casserole.
While it baked, she fed Bones kibble she found in the pantry, then she asked Simon about the farm animals.
“They need to be taken care of.”
“I don’t trust that old man.”
“What about Ruth, then? She could do it.”
“Yeah, whatever. She can come up later.”
“The casserole will be a half hour. I’d like to wait in the basement.”
“I don’t feel like moving the table.” He pushed a chair out with his foot. “Have a seat.”
Alice looked toward Jenny. She was still focused on her book. If Jenny felt any kind of way about the fact that her boyfriend wasn’t on the couch with her, she didn’t show it.
Alice sat. Simon slid a newspaper toward her, folded open to a crossword puzzle. Some of the squares were filled in. He rolled a pen over as well.
“You can help me finish. Read the questions out.”
Simon was good at crosswords, and quick with his answers, but he mostly seemed to enjoy surprising her. Each time he got a question right, he would smirk.
“Thought I was stupid, didn’t you?”
“No. I think you make stupid decisions.”
He laughed and took a drag of his cigarette, one eye squinted. He’d already smoked so many, the air was cloudy. The haze drifted all the way into the living room and swirled in the sunbeams. From the corner of her eye, Alice saw Jenny wrinkle her nose and fan it away.
When the timer went off, Alice jumped to her feet, glad that she’d soon be done with the two of them.
She dished out servings of casserole for Jenny and Simon, then found a tray to carry plates to the basement.
She added forks and a spoon, bread, butter, a plastic pitcher of water, cups, and a quart-sized glass milk bottle from the fridge.
There were two more milk bottles that she wished she could take, but her tray was full, and Simon was beginning to look annoyed.
He dragged the table and chairs away and lifted the hatch. Alice carefully took a few steps, balancing the tray. Bones followed. She stopped and looked back up at Simon.
“The animals. They’ll need to be fed soon.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He let go of the hatch and she had to duck so that it didn’t hit her.
Tom was able to feed himself with his one hand, so Alice focused on her meal and told them what she had learned upstairs, which wasn’t much except that the truck repairs didn’t seem to be going smoothly, and Simon was getting drunk.
The thought of what might happen if he couldn’t fix the truck turned the few bites of food in her stomach to stone.
“Casserole is lovely, dear,” Ruth said, but Alice didn’t think the woman had much appetite either. She was chewing slowly, like she was forcing herself to go through the motions.
A couple of hours later, Alice began to worry that Simon had forgotten about the animals. She walked over and assessed the hatch. It was insulated like the ceiling, but it was still wood, and wood made sound. She knocked on one of the beams. No response from above.
She looked among the boxes until she found a brass lamp.
“Do you mind if I dent your lamp, Ruth?”
“Not at all, dear.”
Standing on the stairs, and aiming up over her head, Alice swung the lamp as hard as she could against the wood. She hit it a few more times, but her neck and shoulders were already aching. She was almost ready to give up when she heard scraping above. The hatch lifted.
Light poured in, Simon’s body a looming shape. He was aiming the handgun down at her. She thought about tripping him. Maybe grabbing his legs and pulling him off-balance.
He might drop the gun. But he might also pull the trigger.
“Drop it,” he said.
She let go. The lamp bounced down the stairs, then rolled away with a clatter.
“What the hell is your problem?”
“The animals.”
“Jesus, fine. Send the old lady.”
Bones left with Ruth. When they returned later, Ruth’s cheeks were pink from the fresh air, and Bones smelled of hay when he came over to greet Alice. William held Ruth’s hand and rubbed his thumb over hers.
“The animals are fine,” she said to him.
“I’m just glad you’re okay, sweetheart.”
“That boy didn’t say more than two words. And the girl? She was just sitting there reading one of my books.” Ruth paused. “There’s something very wrong with those two.”