The Caretaker of Lorne Field

Durkin’s eyes and mouth weakened with disappointment. “You will eventually, son. Sometimes it takes practice. My pa told me it took him over a year before he started hearing it. Me, I started hearing it from the very first Aukowie I killed.”

“I dunno. I didn’t hear nuthin’.”

“It will just take some time.” Durkin straightened up and grimaced painfully as he worked a few kinks from his back. “We’re going to go over to that large one over there,” he said. “They’re longer than they look, so be careful.” He paused, smiling wistfully. “Can you see the face on it?” he asked.

“Nope.”

Durkin pointed out its eyes and mouth and horns. “You can’t see all that?”

“All I see are a bunch of leaves and vines.” Lester narrowed his eyes. “Maybe some thorns, too, but that’s all I see.”

“Sometimes it just takes a while, that’s all,” Durkin said with a heavy sigh. “You keep looking and you’ll see it.”

“Dad,” Lester said, “do you really believe all this?”

“What?”

“That these aren’t just weeds?”

“What have I been saying?”

Lester scratched his jaw, then scratched behind his ear. “I dunno. That’s all part of the act, right?”

“Son, you’ll be finding out soon this is no act.” Jack Durkin emptied out a lungful of air and sighed heavily. “Hand me that spade. And get ready with the camera.”

Lydia called Paul Minter’s office at nine o’clock and was told by his receptionist that he was in court and wouldn’t be back until after one. From that point on she sat at the kitchen table chain-smoking through half a dozen packs of cigarettes, all the while keeping one eye on the clock over the oven. At one o’clock she thought about calling again but held back. When the phone eventually rang it jolted her.

“Dorothy told me you called?” Paul Minter said.

“It’s one thirty-five. She told me you’d be back by one.”

“Things took longer than expected. What’s up?”

Lydia told him about her husband planning to make a videotape of the weeds. How he was planning to show it to the town.

Minter took the news quietly and finally asked, “Why does he want to do that?”

“Because he wants to prove to everyone that these things ain’t weeds.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was.”

Another long silence from Minter’s end, then, “I don’t think this would be the best thing for us.”

“I didn’t think so either.”

“Who is your husband planning to show his videotape to?”

“Probably the local news station.”

Minter digested that and said, “No, that definitely would not be good for us.” Lydia could hear him coughing at his end, then spit something into a trashcan. When he came back, he asked, “Your husband doesn’t actually believe what’s in the book you showed me?”

“I think that damn fool believes every word of it.”

“This really isn’t good at all,” he said softly. He cleared his throat some more. “It’s one thing to have this quaint little fairy tale that everybody knows is only a fairy tale, it’s quite another to rub everybody’s nose in that fact…” He hesitated for a long moment. When he continued his voice was more controlled. “Did you tell your husband about our plans?”

“Of course not. You told me you’d talk to him after your plans were worked out.”

“That’s right, I did. How about if I meet with him later today. Do you think you can bring him over to the office this afternoon?”

“He’ll be at that field until eight tonight.”

“Can you get him to leave early?”

“Not a snowball’s chance.”

“How about if I stop by your house tonight?”

“Fine with me.”

“What time does your family have dinner?”

“When my husband comes home. Eight o’clock usually. We should be done by nine.”

“Expect me there at nine. I’ll have a talk with your husband then, and I’m sure he’ll be as excited about our plans as we are.”

“We’ll see,” Lydia said, without much enthusiasm.

“And, Mrs. Durkin, it’s not just us. I’ve had preliminary talks with several members of the town council. There’s a lot of excitement brewing over these plans. I’ll be meeting with potential business partners tomorrow. But it would be best if you can keep him from showing videotapes he may have made to anyone, especially to the media, at least until I have a chance to talk with him.”

“He won’t be showing anyone videotapes,” Lydia promised. “At least not today.”