Perihelion
What Lena relished most was working up in the loftiest reaches to a red oak. A mid-April morning such as this one made it glorious. She was almost there, too. A winter spent working with weights had strengthened her upper body to facilitate tree-scaling. In a crotch of the trunk, she paused to catch her breath. An antsy hand patted down pockets. Her cigarettes were in the plaid shirt pocket.
“Nuts. I need these like another hole in the head.” She refused the temptation to take them out. Instead slim fingers slipped the cell phone from her pants pocket. Her long-distance signal beamed over the airwaves to her native hogback ridges in PawPaw, West Virginia. “Hey,” she said in greeting.
Her boyfriend Kermit responded, “Hey, right back at you. You with a patient? Your voice comes through extra crisp.”
“Righto. I’m up, oh say, forty feet in one,” she said. “From my catbird seat, it’s a beautiful day, too.”
“I wouldn’t know,” said Kermit. “My nose has been buried inside a truck engine all morning replacing a blown head gasket. Did you think about our talk?”
“Kermit, I’m not bagging my job,” said Lena. Instant irritation heated her next words. “I’m not staying home to cook, clean, and make babies for you.”
“We belong together. Not you putzing down in the city every week.”
“This tired argument bores me to tears,” she said. “This is a family-run business. It’s simple. If we stop delivering quality service, then our phone stops ringing. Besides, my brother and sister depend on me.”
Kermit took a different tack. “Lena, you look ridiculous swinging in a tree.”
Rolling her eyes gritty from blown pollen, Lena said, “Guess what? My break time is up.”
In disgust, Kermit snorted. “Yeah, go pamper some bigshot’s trees.”
“Kermit, ridiculous or not, I swing in trees to earn my keep,” said Lena before she thumbed off their connection. “Man-oh-man, I’m so overdue for a boyfriend change.”
Lena resumed her ascent through burgeoning jade buds. Smiling, she targeted a stout limb ten feet above her. After flipping up the rope with practiced ease, she fed out enough slack to lower the other end. The doubled over rope then hoisted her to the next level.
The synthetic, no-rot rope had a trustworthy feel to it. Lank cider-brown hair stirred by a vagrant breeze, she sailed up here alone with her thoughts. Her late dad weighed heavy in her mind. He’d told her war stories like when tree surgeons had burned their rotten ropes. That forced the company to buy newer, safer ones. That particular yarn stuck by her. You did what you had to do. Some called her father stubborn. She viewed it as professional pride which she also prized. Their family business had three but this morning Lena had insisted on working alone.
“If you slip and break your fool neck,” Joshua had said, “don’t say I didn’t tell you.”
“I tend to agree, sis,” said Bo-Peep.
Scowling fiercer, Lena squaring around to confront her older sister issued a warning. “I don’t recall Joshua or me asking for your expert opinion, Bo-Peep. Butt out, hear?”
“If I wasn’t your big brother,” Joshua said, “I’d fire you on the spot.”
“But you can’t,” said Lena. “I own a third. We all have equal say, big bro.”
Joshua gave her a dismissive wrist wave. “We’ll be up four blocks on the Henderson site. Bricked-in trunks get a coat of jolly tar this morning.”
“Count on seeing me before lunchtime,” Lena had said.
Now the tree limb beyond here could sustain Lena’s 90-pounds on a wiry five-two frame. From a separate rope trailing behind her, she dragged up the pole saw. Its two halves fitted together. Leaning into the main trunk for a brace, she applied the parrot-bill blade to saw off smaller dead branches.
Lena’s mind fell in rhythm with the back-and-forth sawing motions. Memories settled on her dad. On a similar spring day at least this height he’d also trimmed off dead wood. All at once, his knobby knuckles had risen knocking off his mesh cap. His raw groan startled her. As a ground-based gopher who belayed up tools and hauled away debris, the most Lena could do was holler up at him, “Are you okay, Dad?”
Contorted face ashy gray in color, he never responded.
Like in some cliffhanger, he teetered on buckling knees. His bowed legs wobbled. Lena screamed. His elbow crooked around a branch fell away limp. Stricken with a brain aneurysm, he lost control. Gravity overtook him. Again, she screamed. He tumbled headlong through space until impacting—whomp!—the hard-packed lawn. Later at the ER, she wept in a restroom stall. Joining Lena, the young lady doctor told her he’d died before striking the ground.
“Working in pairs guarantees nothing,” Lena reminded herself. “Shit still happens.”
Even if family, Joshua and she had been at each others throat since the day after their father’s demise. Lena gave a sharp sigh. As the oldest sibling, Joshua assumed running the business went to him by rights. His grandiose ideas to expand it frightened her. “Joshua is getting too big for his britches again,” their father would remark. Lena saw no advantage to hire on a second crew and rebuffed his suggestions. Poor Bo-Peep, stuck in the middle by more than just her age, played the peacemaker. Bo-Peep resented it, Lena reflected. But their roles were too ingrained to change.
Years before in Paw-Paw, Joshua and Lena as kids had been nailed for shoplifting. It wasn’t like they tried to lift an expensive wristwatch or a CD to smuggle from the store. Just the same, the merchant caught them red-handed secreting sourballs into their small pockets. Indignant, he raised a noisy fuss, held them prisoner in the back room, and telephoned the sheriff. A paunchy, jowly man who’d never see sixty again, the sheriff screamed up, his cruiser’s roof bar strobing red and blue, the colors of big trouble.Their father arrived. He huddled with the other two men before paying for the damages. The two kids were made to apologize. Lena went first but burst out crying before she’d uttered two words. Later at home in her bedroom, she had to think taking her chances with the local law might’ve gone easier on her. It was the only time she got a whipping from her father. It also was the last time she took a shine to anything not hers.
Not true for Joshua although Lena didn’t discover he hadn’t learned his lesson until the previous Friday. They’d stopped at a Grab & Go on the way home. Bo-Peep picked up a bag of peanuts, a grape soda, and a Powerball lottery ticket. While she settled up at the counter, Joshua at a casual turn brushed by a wire rack displaying tobacco products. His sly hand snatched up a box of the cigarillos to stash into a coat pocket.
Pausing at the end of the aisle, Lena out of the corner of her eye had detected him. At first disbelieving it, she continued searching the shelves while recalling years before when Joshua had goaded her into stealing sour balls. Still willing to give Joshua the benefit of a doubt, she surveyed him over the tops of store racks. The instant he angled toward the door, she hurried to cut off his exit.
“Josh, you’re not leaving this store,” she told him in a rough voice.
“Huh?”
Planting her work boots apart in a defiant stance, Lena blocked him. “No, you’re marching up to that counter and pay for those smokes.”
“What smokes?” he asked, dealing her a sheepish half-grin. It only further infuriated her.
“The ones I saw you swipe,” said Lena. “If you don’t have money, I’ll spring for them. Then grow up, Josh. We pay our own way.”
“Oh, you mean these?” Keeping a deadpan expression, Joshua fished out the package still its cellophane wrap. “I intended to buy them. Just carrying them is all.”
“Bullshit,” said Lena, tension edging her words.
Worry lines creasing her forehead, Bo-Peep joined them. “What are you guys bickering about now?” she asked. “Folks are staring. Let’s scram.”
“Not quite yet. Slick Josh figured he’d buy his smokes,” said Lena. “At five finger discount, no less.”
“Why, Josh? Lena or I can buy them.”
Joshua scoffed. “Hell, I was set to pay when our vigilante sister waylaid me.”
“Go do it,” said Lena. “We’ll watch.”
While Joshua strolled up to the counter while tugging on a chain to his wallet, Bo-Peep whispered. “Was he really stealing?”
“It’s insulting, isn’t it?” said Lena. “Our big brother is a big crook.”
On the twisty road again, they sat tight-lipped in the truck cab clear to Paw-Paw’s town limits. Climbing out at her stop, Lena didn’t return their stares. Since then, no further words of the near theft had been exchanged. Just this week, Lena announced that she’d keep the company books in relief of Joshua.
For once Bo-Peep didn’t try to intervene.
Whistling, Lena made excellent progress trimming up the red oak. The knack, she knew, was to get into a groove. Within spitting distance of her loomed a two million-dollar mansion. Disdaining its fancy, ungainly architecture, Lena had given it her back all morning. The turrets and vaulted windows reminded her of Christopher Lee’s castle in a vampire flick.While rappelling down, Lena’s cursory glance skimmed over its windows. Looking through expansive glass, she recognized the master bedroom. The king-size bed sat unmade. Just then a curt movement drew her focus to a pair of adults. The angle of the sun’s glare off the glass showed only struggling silhouettes.Straining to see better, Lena gasped. A shadowy arm hoisted a pointy instrument. A savage downward strike slashed below the window’s ledge out of view. She flinched. The assailant, who? The victim, who? Her heart pulse revved up fierce enough to hammer out the slats to her ribs.
“Hey, stop that!” she inhaled to holler out. Her mouth was too dry.
Kicking her work boots against the gnarly trunk, Lean swung about. By now the glass only gave to an empty, cavernous room. Both shadows had vanished. By the next instant, Lena heard the front door slam shut, then a car engine growl to life. Rubber tires screeched on pavement. Recovering her wits, Lena wiggled down to reach the lawn. Her cramped legs gimped around the mansion’s corner to the front door. She grabbed the brass knob to push. It was locked.
“Damn.” Lena’s tremulous finger keyed in 911 on her cell phone.
A lady’s professional greeting answered.
“Somebody stabbed someone,” Lena said. “Send the cops.”
“Street address, please?”
“10820 Orchard,” said Lena, flabbergasted by the other lady’s calmness.
“A police unit has been dispatched. Standby to aid officers.”
A few tense minutes ahead of the authorities, Joshua and Bo-Peep scuttled up in the truck. After her 911 call, Lena had summoned them.
“Where’s your murder victim?” were the first words out of Joshua’s mouth. His brows knitted into a long hash. His accusatory hazel eyes landed on her. No work was getting done. No money was being made. Joshua had a one-track mind.
“Inside the mansion.” Lena’s thumb indicated over her shoulder. “In a bedroom. Somebody got it with what looked like a hunting knife to me.”
Bo-Peep said, “Mother of Christ.”
“Where are the cops?” asked Joshua.
As if on cue, an ear-piercing siren shrilled to make the turn at Orchard Street and hustle down the block. With the red-blue roof bar left ablaze, two young, clean-shaven police officers, both men, jumped out. Jogging in tandem, they traversed the lawn, brandishing batons and stern faces. As they drew up to the porch, Lena decided she didn’t like them.
“Just who here called in the homicide?” asked the bulkier partner.
Lena lifted a grimy index finger. “That would be me, officer.”
The compact cop circled his hand to gesture. “You folks, fall back. Give us some room to operate here.”
“No problem,” said Lena. “Can we leave now?”
“Absolutely not,” said the beefier cop. “Roger will take down your statements while I secure the crime scene.”
“The door is locked,” Lena pointed out.
Joshua said, “Somebody left a set of lock picks in the truck.”
“Jed, let him try it,” said Roger, the smaller cop. “It beats ramming in the door.”
Biting down on both lips, Jed considered it. “Fine. Have at it. Hurry.”
After Joshua worked his magic, Jed and Roger darted inside and boogied up the carpeted staircase. Palms on her knees, Lena in the foyer stooped as did Joshua and Bo-Peep to watch their blue uniforms disappear down the upstairs corridor.
Lena said, “I’ve had the heebie-jeebies about this place all morning.”
“Me too,” Bo-Peep chimed in.
Snappish, Lena asked, “Why you, Bo-Peep?”
Bo-Peep shrugged. “Didn’t Dad die today?”
Joshua nodded. “Yep, sure enough. Two years ago.”
“Better make that three years,” Lena said to correct him.
The homicide victim was the elderly widow owning the mansion, a Mrs. Maxy Spangler. Lean-jawed detectives unfurled yellow crime scene tape to mark off their boundaries. Leaning against their truck, Lena and her siblings ogled the almost surreal moment. Roger approached them, a clipboard jammed against his thigh.”A few more questions,” he said. “Lena, did you get a look at the attacker’s face?”"The bright sun made it tough to see much.” Turning thoughtful, Lena flicked ash off the cigarette’s ember tip. “The door whapped shut. I’d say no more than ten seconds later a car engine started up. The car peeled off.”
“You guys aren’t from around here.” Spitting, Roger sized up Joshua.
“No, we hail from PawPaw,” said Joshua. “That’s in the West Virginia panhandle but the tree work is down here in the city.”
“I see. You a licensed arborist in this state?”
“Yes, officer.” Joshua nodded. “Bonded and insured, too. We’re professionals, not fly-by-nighters.”
The officer’s flinty eyes switched back to Lena. “You worked here alone?”
Lena also nodded. “I was up in the big red oak out back the morning through.”
“H’m. You folks stick around town for a couple days.” The ink pen Roger held jabbed to designate each of them. “My cop nose tells me something’s awful fishy about this homicide.”
“You figure one of us had a hand in it?” Lena’s incredulous question spoke for all.
“I figure nobody’s ruled out,” said Jed. “My best advice? Cooperate and keep it friendly. Maybe call a lawyer even.”
Their onerous four-hour commute back to PawPaw limited the tree surgeons to make the trip home only on the weekends. From Monday through Thursday, they split the expense to camp in two rooms at the near-seedy Red Newt Inn near Camp Washington. After wolfing down a fast food dinner, they split off to their respective berths. Bo-Peep and Lena shared an end unit.The afternoon’s lurid events dampened any chatter. Uneasy with her thoughts, Lena stretched out on the swayback mattress. Bo-Peep lay on the other twin bed, her stony stare on an M*A*S*H rerun. The TV was color faded. Lena drifted her eyes over to a flyblown hot plate. She wondered if the dead lady’s estate would pay their tree work bill. The red oak’s topmost limbs still begged for pruning. She still needed to fertilize it. She didn’t cherish any thought of returning to the mansion.”You know, it’s funny—” Bo-Peep left the sentence dangling.
“What’s funny?” asked Lena. “The TV show?”
“No. Mrs. Spangler’s death comes on the day of Dad’s passing. Coincidence or bad karma? I don’t know.”
“So?”
“So, both times, you saw it.” Bo-Peep put an odd emphasis on the next word. “Weird.”
Lena began to see a flash of red. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing except why is it folks die around you?” asked Bo-Peep. “I’ve never seen a person die. And I’m two years older than you, too.”
“It ain’t pretty.” Lena switched off the ginger jar lamp on the bed table. “Now, do me a huge favor. Shut off the TV and your yap, then let’s grab some sleep.”
With the stuffy room’s semi-darkness enveloping her, Lena writhed under the sheets to lay on her back, then on her side. With a start, she realized Bo-Peep might suspect her as the murderer. A cold fear seized her chest. That’s plain crazy, she reassured herself. Next she wondered about Joshua’s lock picking skills. Soon she entered a fitful sleep punctuated with nightmarish sensations of plunging pell-mell through inky deep space…
“Lena! You’d better shake a leg, little sis.” Bo-Peep called out from inside the small bathroom speaking over the rattling fan. “Joshua wants to get an early start to close out that Henderson job.”
Kicking to untwist the sheets, Lena said, “Joshua is always in a big hurry.”
“Don’t get angry,” said Bo-Peep. “Please hurry so we can eat. You know yesterday Joshua had to run out to a deli and pick up our lunch. He’d just gotten back when you called us.”
That admission earned Lena’s ill-tempered scowl. “But why? We agreed to eat store-bought grub for breakfast. Also lunch. It’s cheaper than any damn deli.”
Combing her cropped blonde hair, Bo-Peep stepped from the bathroom. “You know Joshua’s stubborn moods. I go along to get along. It’s easier for us to let him think he’s boss.”
“Yeah, maybe for you it is. Anyway Bo-Peep, do you really think I killed that Spangler lady?” asked Lena pointblank.
Bo-Peep’s fine-featured face paled to an unhealthy hue. She bit one corner of her lip, then said, “You better talk to Joshua. He carries around some weird ideas.”
“Well I aim to set him straight on that score,” said Lena.
“Aren’t you phoning Kermit?” asked Bo-Peep.
“No. He’s advertising for a wife to be his live-in maid, plus sex on demand,” said Lena. “I withdrew my application. Understand?”
“Even if, he’s awfully cute,” said Bo-Peep.
“So is a polecat.” Lena made a funny face, closing one eye and sticking out her tongue. “But you wouldn’t want to kiss it.”
They both laughed. “This morning I’ll pitch in with you,” said Bo-Peep. “Together we can finish up your job fast.”
“Too much of Josh yesterday, huh?”
With a slight nod, Bo-Peep replied, “Almost an overdose of Josh.” Lena didn’t miss seeing the tears well up in her sister’s eyes. Joshua made everybody’s life that miserable, she thought.
A little later, Lena and Bo-Peep hopped out of the truck cab. Lena grabbed her tool satchel out of its bed. Only Bo-Peep waved goodbye to a dour Joshua. Noting the yellow tape still sealing the Spangler’s doorway, the sisters headed around back to the red oak. Sidling through the moongate, Lena realized the canvas satchel she hefted in her hand felt too heavy.It wasn’t until they arrived at the base of the red oak that the reason became apparent to Lena. By mistake, she’d snatched up Joshua’s tool satchel. She groaned. The morning had already started on a sour enough note. A determined Lena had flushed her last pack of cigarettes down the commode at the Red Newt Inn. This time she was quitting for keeps, too.”Damn,” Lena muttered.
“W-w-what’s wrong?” asked Bo-Peep, noticing Lena’s satchel for the first time.
“This is Joshua’s bag.”
“Tramping four blocks to exchange it makes no sense.” Bo-Peep knelt beside Lena. “I can set out the tools for you.”
“First let me grab a new saw blade.” Lena yanked open the satchel. They each wore out one pruning saw blade a week. Her fingers probed through hooligan bars, rolls of electrician tape, a lump hammer, and assorted junk. Like their dad, Joshua was a big believer in lugging along everything. You never knew when you needed the odd tool to finish the odd job.
“Where did I leave my pole saw?” Lena’s hand shielded her eyes. It lay by a spout where she’d dropped it on the run the previous morning. A shiver wiggled down her back. “This place creeps me out.”
Hovering near, Bo-Peep agreed. “Amen. Need any help with that?”
“No thanks.” At the bottom of Joshua’s satchel, Lena unearthed red shop rags secured around a bundle with bailer twine. She took out a pocketknife to snip apart the twine on what she assumed were new saw blades.
When Lena unraveled the bundle, a shock jumped out at her. A hunting knife streaked with dry, crusty blood sat in her palm. She gingerly set it down. Her lungs threatened to hyperventilate. Hearing Bo-Peep gasp, she went on exploring. Next a cigar box rattled when she shook it. Inside, she gawked at gleaming jewelry—emerald earrings, tennis bracelets, and loops of herringbone gold chain.
“What’s all that?” Bo-Peep’s question broke into a nervous quail. Lena didn’t reply.
It didn’t take a leap of imagination to discern the gory story behind the hunting knife and jewelry. It didn’t freak Lena. Rather, the stress cleared her mind. After thumbing the speed dial on her cell phone, she tensed, half-fearful that this spot was a dead zone.
“What are you doing?” asked Bo-Peep.
“Exposing our brother the thief,” Lena replied, her words numb. “And killer.”
Lips now a blue slash, Bo-Peep wagged her head. “Even if, you can’t turn in your own family. Fink on your brother.”
Lena held up a hand. “What else can I do? Pretend it isn’t true?”
“But…”
“Josh,” Lena cut in talking on the cell phone. “I mixed up our tool satchels. Sorry. Hey, do you mind hustling mine back and we’ll swap around?”
As she expected, Joshua was enthusiastic to do so.
“Good. See you in a few,” said Lena. Punching in 911 again for the cops, she felt a mounting despair.
Tearful, the shuddering Bo-Peep spoke in a dull, grave inflection. “But Joshua didn’t rob and kill that old lady. I did. I hid the jewelry in his tool satchel. He never uses it.”
“Bo-Peep! No! You drove over here? But why?”
Bo-Peep choked back sobs. Her face grew haggard. “At lunch, yes, I drove over in the Hendersons’ car. They’d left the keys in the ignition. For just once in my life, I wanted to feel important. Have something. Money. Doesn’t that make sense to you of all people?”
“What on earth happened here?” asked Lena.
“Mrs. Spangler caught me flatfooted in her bedroom during the robbery,” said Bo-Peep. “She sprang at me with that dreadful knife. We struggled. She died. What now?”
Lena had a reply ready for that question. “Like that know-it-all cop said, we get a lawyer in our corner.”