Relocated

Visitors

Photo by Philipp Reiner on Unsplash

Author’s Note: All this week Roulette Weal is sponsored by my friends at Detroit History Tours.

***

No way.

No way was Jacqueline Seward going to drive Riley all the way back to the city to see a therapist. 

They had planned the move to Kirby County well, planned for years, they were determined to live in a population density that didn’t resemble roaches attacking a Twinkie.

It would be a defeat to go back to the city for any reason besides the occasional concert or play.

There was nobody in Shaneville.

Someone at The Caboose diner said the guy in Durrigan had gotten arrested for questionable pictures on his computer.

Maybe someone across the border in Canada, but Jacqueline didn’t know how that worked and did know that the ferry only ran three times a day.

She made an appointment at the little salon in town,Curlies, mostly older women. 

She was embarrassed she had cut her own bangs and embarrassed to ask for help. But some of these women had to have grandchildren. 

Jacqueline wondered if Riley would get labeled, just from her asking.

The stylist was nice, talkative.

“Jeanine, do you have any kids?”

She tapped her mirror. 

‘That handsome fella is Scott.”

“Handsome for sure. He have kids?”

“Ohhh…welll…I don’t think that’s in the cards. He’s not really…”

Jacqueline looked at Scott’s picture, figured he was gay, skipped the “well he could adopt,” conversation and got to her point.

“My daughter needs a therapist. We just moved here and she’s not adjusting well.”

Jeanine stopped trimming.

“Ohhh, you and your husband bought Lemek Farm. Lemeks used to let us swim in the river when we were little. Are kids being mean to your little girl? She’s blond right, white blond?”

Jacqueline laughed, a bit taken aback.

“Yep, that’s Riley. Obviously she got the blonde gene from her dad.”

“What’s she having trouble adjusting to? If it’s those Bellamy kids I will call their momma right now and-”

“No, no…everyone has been very nice. I mean…we’re not very close to anyone, but we went to the flea market and Tennys…ummm, Tennin… “

“Tennison Playground,” Jeanine finished for Jacqueline.

“Yes. Everyone was nice.”

“The Bellamy kids can be terrors,” Jeanine said. “So what’s troubling Riley?”

Jacqueline squeezed her eyes shut, tried to soak in some good juju.

“Riley wandered outside the other night. She’s ten, and in the city she couldn’t leave our building without us. We told her it was different here. She couldn’t sleep, new bed, wanted to explore…”

Jacqueline hesitated.

“Anyway, if you know of a good therapist for a kid somewhere between here and Rock Platte…anywhere, really, except the city.”

Jeanine spun Jacqueline to face her.

“I guess I’m missing what the problem is. I grew up above my Dad’s hot rod shop on Yemenak. I’d have killed to wander a farm when I was ten and couldn’t sleep.”

Jacqueline could almost smell the Xanax in her purse.

“Ummm…Riley thought she saw something out there.”

“The Kirby County Cougar? My cousin saw it when he was duck hunting. It’s not a lie, that thing is-”

“No, no, knowing Riley she’d tried to pet a big cat. Ummm, she thought she saw a ship…a flying saucer type thing. I don’t know. Kids. Imagination. But she’s having nightmares.”

“Oh,” Jeanine said.

Jacqueline felt like her stylist had already determined her kid was nuts.

“I’m sure she’ll get over it,” Jacqueline said. “But just to be on the safe side.”

“ I…I believe…we aren’t alone,” Jeanine said and Jacqueline relaxed a little.

Jeanine swung Jacqueline back toward the mirror and tucked some hair behind her left ear.

“Did she describe it?”

“Do you know of any therapists?”Jacqueline asked.

“My sister’s oldest was anorexic, went to a guy in Sahoga, but that was a while back.”

“If you could get his number, that would be-”

“I’ll text Sarah and ask.”

Jeanine grabbed her phone, worked her thumbs like a teenager, set the phone down, snatched up the scissors, took a large chunk of Jacqueline’s auburn locks.Almost too much. Jacqueline winced.

“What did little Miss Riley say about this ship she saw?”

Jacqueline knew her surprise showed on her face in the mirror.

“It scared her. She woke us up.”

“Did she say what it looked like?” Jeanine asked.

Jacqueline could feel her butt start to sweat. She regretted bringing it up.

“You know kids, they see things online, in the movies. We haven’t let her see Guardians, but some of her friends…”

“Ok,” Jeanine said.

There was a silence between the two women that was distinctly awkward.

There was only the sound of scissors, and the faint hiss of a pro handheld hair dryer a few chairs away.

Rachel Ray was talking on a TV in the corner, muted.

She rinsed what looked to be a Cornish Hen.

“My…my daughter kept trying to convince my husband that Wambaugh River was flowing uphill, Jacqueline said. “Honestly,if she didn’t have grass stains on her bare feet,  we would think it might have just been a really bad nightmare.”

“That little girl said what?” Jeanine asked it sweetly, almost too much so. 

“The river…she won’t let it go. She said there was a bright blue glow in the sky, and the river flowed uphill.”

Jeanine looked at Jacqueline in the mirror. Jacqueline could see her eyes dart side to side.

“I think…now I’m no expert now…but I think your little girl is just fine.”

Jacqueline’s eyebrows danced. It was nice to hear, but…

Jeanine grabbed her phone. 

“Alex, can you drive up to the salon? Badger’s? Walk over then sweetheart.”

Jeanine smiled at Jacqueline and picked up a comb. “My husband.”

Jacqueline smiled back, confused.

A man in a Peterbilt sweatshirt walked in less than a minute later, walked straight to Jeanine’s station.

“This is Jacqueline. Her and her husband bought Lemek Farm.”

“Nicetameecha,” Alex said, friendly, genuine smile.

“Their little girl Riley swears up and down she saw the Wambaugh River flowing uphill.”

Jacqueline wanted to jump up and break the mirror with her forehead. She knew rumors were wildfires in small towns, but this seemed to be the rudest, most obnoxious-

Alex put her hand on Jacqueline’s shoulder like they had been friends since kindergarten.

“Thank you,” he said.

His hand trembled so badly it felt like a cheap massager.

“I…I’ve been catching Steelies on the Wambaugh since almost before I could ride a bike. Been under the limit maybe four, five times. I mean…”

Jacqueline watched the man’s eyes roll up past the mirror, staring at the ceiling.

He slowly brought them back down so their eyes met in the mirror.

“Took my favorite spawn rig over there Sunday morning…nothing. I mean…nothing. I called DNR and swore to Christ the Army Corps dammed it up overnight. ‘Cept there was nothing different about the water level. Just…the fish weren’t there. Weren’t there. Like sometime during the night the river ran backward.”

***

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