Affliction by Russell Banks Page B

way he knew everyone who spent much time in Lawford, even the summer people, which this man was. His name was Evan Twombley, some kind of Massachusetts union official or something, and he owned a fancy house out on Lake Agaway that he used maybe a month at the most in the summer and, since it was winterized, week-ends and holidays over the rest of the year. In recent years the place had been used more by Twombley’s daughter and her husband and kids than by Twombley himself, but Wade remembered the man nonetheless and believed he was rich andthought Jack was lucky to have the chance to work as a guide for him.
    â€œOh, I don’t know about lucky,” Jack said. “The guy’s a full-blown asshole. I’d just as soon be out there for myself tomorrow as work for some clown in a red suit who shoots at shadows with a gun he’s never used before. Pay’s good, though. Hundred dollars a day. I got to guarantee a kill, of course. Which I can do. There’s some monster bucks hiding out up there.”
    â€œHow’d you get the job?” Wade asked.
    â€œLaRiviere,” Jack said. He inhaled, held his breath and passed the joint back and kept talking. “You know Gordon, he’s always got some kind of angle working,” he said. “Right now looks like he’s keeping Twombley happy, and I suppose I’m his boy.”
    Hettie said, “Do you mind?” and reached forward, flipped the tape over and turned the volume up enough to make the men shout to one another to be heard. They had reached the Route 29 turnoff, and Jack tooled the truck down the ramp onto the narrow road to Lawford.
    â€œYou should get close to Twombley!” Wade yelled.
    â€œHow come?”
    â€œThe fucker’s loaded,” he said. “That’s why. If you want to get ahead, my boy, you got to learn to make a guy like that need you. Get irreplaceable.”
    Jack laughed, flashing white teeth, and Hettie laughed too, and Wade watched her place her left hand on Jack’s thigh.
    â€œFollow your example, eh?” Jack said.
    â€œYou bet. Look at LaRiviere,” he said. “The sonofabitch couldn’t get along without me.”
    Jack laughed again. “Yeah, he’d go broke tomorrow if you quit him, right? And you, you’d be sitting in the catbird seat, right?”
    â€œRight!” Wade said, and he grinned like a lizard, when he noticed in the side mirror next to him the glare from the high beams of a car coming up behind them fast.
    Jack said, “Bastard’s got his lights on high.”
    The driver hit his horn once sharply, and as the car passed them on the left, Wade looked over and recognized it—the silver Audi owned by Lillian’s husband.
    â€œShit,” he said.
    â€œWhat?” Hettie said.
    â€œMy ex-wife. Lillian and her new husband,” he said. “That was them in the Audi that just passed us.”
    Jack said, “Audi’s a good car.”
    â€œLillian?” Hettie said. “What’s she doing up here? Lillian, jeez, I haven’t seen her since—what?—years. Since I used to baby-sit Jill for you guys, remember?” she said, and she smiled warmly into Wade’s face.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œWhat’s she up for?” Jack asked.
    â€œAw, shit, she’s here to get Jill. Pain in the ass,” Wade said. “Me and Jill had a little argument. Listen, Jack, I got to get back, I got to get back to town. Move this thing, will you? See if you can get back to the town hall before they get there, okay?”
    â€œPiece of fucking cake, man.” He hit the accelerator, and the truck leapt ahead, the exhausts suddenly roaring, like a steady high-pitched wind sweeping through pine trees.
    Wade was jumpy again; the effect of the marijuana was instantly and wholly gone. He was inside his own time now, and running late, as usual. Staring over the flat hood of the truck at the curving narrow road