Rapture

Getting out of the car, he walked slowly toward the house, went up the half-flight of stairs to the back porch, and knocked on the door. The kitchen, he saw through the window, was completely bare. Not a sin gle appliance or piece of furniture had been left. But someone was inside; he could hear a power tool in use. He knocked again when the loud buzzing stopped for a couple of seconds, but it started again. He tried the door, which was unlocked.

He went through the kitchen, which seemed too small, then the dining room, which also appeared to be cramped, and finally came into the living room, which was larger and closer to what he remembered. The place was empty, even the built-in bookshelves on one wall. The good feeling he had experienced only a few minutes ago now seemed to be leaking out of him, and he thought about turning around and leaving. But the power tool upstairs went silent again.

"Hello!" Jeff called out quickly.

"Yeah," a voice answered. A young man, perhaps in his late twenties, clumped down the stairs in a rush. His face, arms, and hair were covered with a fine dust. "Yeah, what can I do for you?"

"Uh ... is this your house?" Jeff asked. There was a very slight chance this person was one of Georgianne's younger brothers.

"Yeah, the sale's gone through now, but the agent hasn't taken his sign away yet. Sorry, if you were interested."

"No, it's not that. I used to know the Slatons years ago," Jeff explained. "I wondered if they were still around."

"Oh. No, the Slatons are gone."

The young man made it sound as if the entire family had been wiped out.

"Gone?"

"Yeah. To Florida, I think."

"Did you know them?"

"No, not me. They moved out before the house was sold. It was a while ago now"

"Okay." Jeff gave the room a last quick glance and started to go. "Thanks anyhow"

"If you want to get in touch with them, you could ask Mrs. Brewer," the young man said. "I think she knows where the Slatons can be reached."

"Mrs. Brewer?"

"First house up the road on this side."

"Going toward town?"

"That's it."

"Okay, thanks. Maybe I will."

Jeff turned the car around in the back-in with the netless basketball hoop and drove down to the road. He shifted into neutral and sat there for a moment, trying to make up his mind. Did he really want to take this thing any further? What was the point? She wasn't even your girlfriend, he reminded himself unhappily. He had gone through Kathy, Joanne, and Betsy, and a couple of minor flirtations, during the years in which he had doubled with Mike and Georgians. But of all those he'd known, friends and classmates, Georgianne was the only one who still interested him. He had thought about her m1py times. In fact, he realized, he'd never quite stopped thinking about her. Georgianne had always been there, somewhere, in his mind. And this could well be the last chance he would ever have to do anything about it.

He put the car in gear and began driving slowly to ward the center of Millville. As soon as he saw the house, Jeff smiled. A woman was weeding a flower bed along the front walk. He took it as a good omen: he was meant to know what had happened to Georgians. He pulled the car over to the side of the road and left the engine idling.

The woman stood up to face him. She wore a checkered bandana on her head, slacks, sneakers, and a print blouse of hideous design. She was pudgy and sixtyish, but, with a three-pronged garden tool in her hand, she looked ready for anything. Jeff put on his best smile.

"Mrs. Brewer?"

"Yes."

"My name is Jeff Lisker, and I grew up here in Millville. I used to know the Slatons real well. Georgians was a good friend and classmate of mine, but we lost touch as the years went by. I live out in California now and I'm just back on a visit to see my family. I thought I'd catch up with the Slatons, but they've moved, and I was wondering if you could tell me where they are now."

The elderly woman had listened to this little spiel carefully, and now she considered it for a few seconds before deciding that it sounded reasonable enough.

"Oh, the Slatons. They're a wonderful family," Mrs. Brewer said. "You know that Jack died five, no, six years ago."

"No, I didn't. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yes. He had the cancer, but it come on him real sudden and it didn't take long. So he didn't suffer the way some do."

"Well, that's something."

"Now, Donnie, he went to college down in Florida, and then he got a job teaching there, in Tampa. And little Jack went to UConn, and got himself a good job at Anaconda, right up here in Waterbury. But the whole company moved to Chicago about four years ago, and he went with it. Both the boys are married now and have kids of their own."

Jeff nodded with every sentence, trying to keep the woman moving along. Apparently she was going to tell him the whole tedious story.