Part 3
Chapter 13
October 1984
It was chilly, with constant snow flurries, a month later when Ennis followed the now-smoothly running blue car toward Casper and then down Interstate 25 toward Denver, but had become sunny by the time they were driving through the suburbs in the late afternoon. Both Ennis and Alma had been disappointed, though not surprised, when Jenny had come home full of plans for her move. "There’s plenty of places I can get a job, work in a store if I have to. But I might be able ta get some singin’ jobs! Luanne knows a lot of people in the churches around there, I can do some singin’ in churches and they pay, too. And there’s lots a people my age, more stores, more ta do, more everything than Riverton, just in that one little corner of Denver…." She’d chattered to Junior and Alma about the apartment, the stores where she’d window-shopped, the restaurant Luanne and her friends had taken her to as she rooted through her closet and chest of drawers, sorting out the clothes she was taking with her to her new life. Ennis still felt apprehensive as Jenny loaded possessions in the back seat of the survival jalopy and he secured larger objects in the truck bed with bungee cords, but he wondered if a big city might be the best place for her after all.
Jenny seemed to have changed more in the process of growing up than Junior had. She’d bought a used sewing machine and had designed many of her own clothes, saving basic purchased patterns and combining them into a look that was uniquely hers, with flowing lines, vibrant colors and styles that were simple but feminine. Neither of her parents knew, although Junior did, that in the last few years Jenny had spent considerable time in serious rehearsal in front of the full-length mirror on her bedroom door; practicing facial expressions, sitting and standing, smiles, gestures, just the right tilt of the head, how to flatten her nose when giving someone a special smile so that her upper lip didn’t curl under. The result so far was a young woman who was not beautiful, but who had a hard-won presence that tended to attract and hold attention.
The trip from the outskirts of town to Luanne’s neighborhood seemed to take longer than the rest of the drive down from Riverton. As was now typical in large cities, the suburbs seemed indistinguishable from each other: mile after mile after mile of shopping centers, stores that looked like huge warehouses with acres of parking lots, restaurants, convenience stores; subdivisions with beige and pale gray houses that all looked alike and sat so close together their roofs almost touched. Lines of idling cars stretched out behind each stoplight, of which there seemed to be four or five for every mile. And here and there, pathetic remnants of nature allowed to exist on the fringes: strips and patches of grass and struggling, mostly doomed shrubs and slender young trees.
They finally stopped in a narrow parking lot in front of a half-dozen buildings, as much alike to Ennis’ eyes as all the others in the neighborhood. "Hey, Jenny! I’ll give you a hand with this stuff," he heard a young woman’s voice say as he pulled down the truck’s tailgate. He looked up to see Curt’s sister, whom he remembered from the wedding only vaguely: a girl a little older than Jenny, somewhat unkempt strawberry-blond hair incongruously light brown at the roots but tidily dressed in dark blue slacks and a white sweater, a heavy silver cross conspicuously around her neck. She was, as Junior told him later, the kind of woman that those fond of euphemism tended to describe as "feisty"; a term that was useful as a warning for more discerning observers.
Ennis felt an obligation to say something to her. " ‘Preciate your inviting Jenny ta stay here," he managed as they carried boxes and armloads of clothes into the nearest building, which apparently had four apartments like the rest. "She’s been wantin ta live in a bigger town for awhile, I know." "I’ve been looking forward to it," she answered briskly. "It’ll be good to have somebody from a good Christian background living here. No problems finding the place?"
"We found it okay. Took awhile ta get through town."
"Oh, you might’ve took the long way in. I’ll give you other directions before you start home tomorrow." She had a managing though good-natured air about her that suddenly reminded Ennis of David’s aunt whom he’d met so briefly at the wedding. He wondered if it was a family trait.
To Ennis, the apartment had a flat, claustrophobic atmosphere with low ceilings, small windows and rooms that seemed not much bigger than the sleeping area of his trailer. Junior’ll have some work brightening this up, he thought but Jenny seemed to find no flaw in it. "Think I’ll move the bed over near that window," she said, stacking up boxes in one corner. Luanne shook her head. "Wouldn’t if I were you. The sun’ll wake you up early whether you want to or not." "Well, I’ll let Junior deal with that," Jenny replied deftly. "We can pick out some curtains."Junior invited him to stay with them overnight. "You can sleep on the sofa, Daddy," but Ennis shook his head. "You need your privacy, darlin’, you just got here an’ haven’t even moved in yet. I’m just gonna get some sleep and head back first thing in the morning."
The Red Roof Inn that Luanne had recommended was in the price range always indicated by a single dollar sign on directories; but it seemed luxurious compared with what he was used to and he was suddenly aware of how weary he was. It was an enervated feeling: not the kind induced by heavy work or lack of sleep, but rather a sensation of the blood being drained from his body drop by invisible drop; and a dull headache was forming somewhere at the base of his neck. He avoided even sitting on the bed but took a quick shower and headed to a coffee shop nearby to wait for nightfall.
Ennis drove around for over an hour, through commercial areas and then off through side streets, looking for the telltale signs David had suggested: deserted streets, neglected parking lots, boarded-up store fronts, loiterers outside liquor stores and convenience stores, an unusual number of houses and apartments with burglar bars. After dark, the area seemed even more crowded and jangling with the noise of too many people living too close together than it was in the daytime. But he saw no signs of anything dangerous, though he noted the names of streets that didn’t appear to be well lit. He was satisfied with the expedition by the time he got back to the motel, but the headache and lethargic feeling were even worse. Lying in the dark and listening to the sounds of traffic outside, weary but finding sleep surprisingly elusive, he suspected that this was how any big city would affect him and wondered how other people could stand living in such human anthills, with someone always at one’s elbow. He wasn’t having trouble breathing, but had an odd feeling of being able to take only small sips of air at a time, and stale air at that.
He slept later than he’d intended the next morning, but it didn’t matter. David had told him to check out a supermarket in the late morning or early afternoon on Saturday, when it would be the most crowded. Finding the giant box of a store wasn’t difficult; just a matter of driving back to the intersection where they’d turned off for Luanne’s apartment and continuing down the main road. It was easily four times the size of the Riverton store where Alma had worked when they were first married.
Ennis wandered down the aisles, picking up a bag of chips and a few cans of fruit juice for the trip home. Unaccustomed to looking directly at people he didn’t know, he made himself scrutinize the customers who kept getting into shopping-cart traffic jams. There were plenty of other young single people, a few elderly men and women studying the shelves as if they were making major decisions, and a host of weary-looking mothers with babies and children who all seemed to be either crying or chattering. Watching them he smiled a little inwardly, recalling when Jenny was an infant and Junior a toddler. Oddly, the struggles to deal with two children who were both at such a demanding age had never been a bad memory for him.
"Daddy! Daddy?" he heard Jenny’s startled and then worried voice behind him. "What’re you doin here? I thought you were headin home first thing this morning, something wrong with the truck?"
"No, it’s…." he sorted through his mind for a quick cover story and then decided that the truth would do no harm. "I wanted ta make sure you’re livin in a safe place," he told her, "so I drove around last night, looked at the neighborhood. And I just stopped in here to…. uh, see who’s livin around here." God, don’t let her ask how I got that idea.
"But why’d you keep it a secret?"
"I know you didn’t like your mother fussin, and I know you’re grown now, you want to live your own life. You could have a million dollars and a whole army protectin you, an both of us‘d worry. That’s part a havin’ kids. You’ve grown up, you’re goin off on your own and if you fall out of a tree, I won’t be there to catch ya." He wondered briefly if she remembered that day. He hadn’t for years until Jack had prodded his memory.
"Oh, Daddy." He was startled to hear the surprise, and slight sadness, in her voice. "That’s so sweet. Are you going to miss me?" "Sure, Jenny. Call as often as ya can, huh? I’m glad you ‘n Junior talked me into gettin that phone." He didn’t need to wonder why she’d asked.
It was late afternoon before he started back north to Wyoming, deciding to drive all night and stop for coffee often enough to stay awake. He wondered if Jenny and Luanne would get along and why he felt so much better once he’d put a good distance between himself and the megalopolis he’d just left; but these thoughts had drifted away by the time he reached the state line. He was imagining telling David about how well taking his advice had worked out.