Page 71 of Call Off the Dark

“No” was all Isaac said, without looking at her, and it felt like both a denial and a gift.

“Okay, then I’m going out to find the coyote.”

That caught his attention. He turned his head toward her, and his lips parted slightly in surprise. After a moment, he nodded, as if what she’d said was perfectly reasonable.

Helen walked out of the farmhouse, pulling Wade’s work coat from the back of the kitchen chair as she passed by the table.

It wasn’t until she was halfway across the meadow that she realized she was wearing Isaac’s coat, not Wade’s.

Dusk changed to the early impressions of night. It had been stupid to walk into the woods without a lantern, but Helen didn’t turn back because the moon was bright, and her eyes were adjusting as the dark closed in degree by degree. She heard the single howl only once more, and she doubted she’d find the coyote or any night creatures, but still she wandered the trees at the perimeter of the forest not too far from the meadow. A sweet yet sharp, earthy aroma filled her nose. Some of the fresh foliage was already falling to the ground and decomposing. October was a battle month: new beginnings versus the rot.

She wrapped Isaac’s coat tighter around her. His sleeves went past the tips of her fingers, and the fleece lining felt soft against her neck.

Then she heard an unfamiliar sound: first a crackle, followed by a ripping noise. Something pulling, stretching, breaking. Something wet. It took a moment before she could make sense of the shadowy image only ten yards in front of her.

By a thick fir tree, a lone coyote, shifty eyes and bloody mouth, stood over the rabbit it was devouring, staring her down, like it was simultaneously daring her to step closer while warning her to stay back.

Woman and coyote looked at each other, unblinking. It wasn’t a large coyote. If needed, she could probably kick it hard enough to break its ribs. She wondered when the animal sized her up what conclusions it drew about her. Legs thin enough to rip a chunk out of, maybe.

She smiled at it, because it was wild and free and even a little bit pretty, bloody mouth and all.

Helen backed away slowly, and the coyote went back to tearing apart the rabbit.

As Helen approached the farmhouse, she slipped off Isaac’s coat, hoping he wouldn’t notice she’d taken it. When she entered, the sweet smell of garlic and mushrooms filled her senses.

Isaac looked up from the stove and saw his coat folded over her arm. The deliberate way he watched her return it to the kitchen chair told her that he very much wanted her to know that he had indeed noticed.

“Food’s almost ready” is all he said though.

He’d prepared noodles in a creamy white sauce. Helen hadn’t told him that she kept her canned and jarred food in the cellar, but he’d obviously found the preserved mushrooms down there.

She went to the hall closet to get fresh cloth napkins and the third matching blue and gray place mat. When she passed through the living room, Wade didn’t stir on the couch. He was still in the same position she had left him.

Minutes later, when she called him in to eat dinner, she was surprised that he came.

Helen ate in silence with Wade and Isaac on either side of her, each man sitting at opposite heads of the table. Wade kept his eyes down, but he ate the dish hungrily. He loved creamy pastas, and she wondered if Isaac knew that. Probably. They were brothers, after all. It was strange they were all eating together in silence, but it would have been even stranger if Helen and Isaac had been chatting amicably while Wade said nothing, and she knew that’s what would have happened if she’d tried to strike up a conversation.

The only thing Helen said, several bites into the meal, was “This is really good, Isaac. Thank you.”

Isaac simply nodded.

He didn’t say any words himself until her plate was almost empty and he asked, “Did you find your coyote?”

Wade looked up then, chewing slowly, watching Helen with a circumspect expression.

She nodded. She wanted to tell him about it but not with Wade sitting there.

Isaac smiled softly at her and then looked at Wade. For the briefest moment, Helen questioned if he was somehow provoking Wade, but then Isaac twisted the last of his noodles around his fork and resumed eating. The moment was gone before it was anything. She was probably just being paranoid.

No one said anything more, and then Wade stood and strode out of the kitchen. She heard a door open and shut down the hall.

After she finished her meal, Helen washed the dishes, and Isaac dried them with a towel. When she passed the last plate to him, their fingers brushed lightly. She wasn’t sure if it had been her hand, or his, that had reached across the invisible line.

Helen found Wade lying on top of their bed, still in his filthy work clothes with his boots on. His mouth was set in a grim line, and he stared at the ceiling like he was fixated on the cracks in the wood. She stood in the doorway, her hands still slightly damp from doing the dinner dishes, and tried not to scream. The bedding would have to be washed tomorrow.

She cleared her throat. “You didn’t take a bath?”

“You didn’t run one for me.”