The Unloved by John Saul

had changed since he was a boy. The ancient range still stood against the far wall, opposite the immense built-in iceboxes that had been electrified long before he was born. An array of enormous pots and pans, their copper still kept immaculate by Ruby, hung on the rack above the long counter, but he was certain they weren’t used anymore, for next to the sink, stacked neatly in a draining rack, was the cook ware Ruby had used for that evening’s dinner—small pans, of a size to serve six instead of sixteen or twenty-six.
    At last he opened the refrigerator, pulled out the remains of the roast, found some bread, and made himself a sandwich. He sat down at the table next to the window and listened for a while to the sounds of the house.
    A light breeze had come up, and limbs brushed against the house’s siding. Everywhere there were faint creaks as the old wood adjusted to the slightly cooler temperature of the night.
    And then, slowly, he began to feel a creeping sensation on the back of his neck. The hairs stood on end and a faint chill passed over him.
    A plank of the floor creaked loudly, and he started, turning quickly, not certain what to expect.
    Ruby stood at the door to her room, her old eyes fixed on him, her expression strangely blank. She smiled faintly and moved toward him.
    “Can’t sleep, can you, Mr. Kevin,” she said softly. “Just like when you were a boy. Well, I reckon you’re gonna have to get used to more nights like that, now that you’ve come home.”
    Kevin frowned and shook his head. “Not many, Ruby,” he replied. “And I haven’t come home. My home is in Connecticut. I’m just here for a couple of weeks’ vacation.”
    Ruby settled her weight into the chair opposite him, grunting slightly with the effort. “Not a couple of weeks,” she said. “You’re back, and you’ll stay back. No Devereaux has ever left Sea Oaks yet.”
    Kevin cocked his head, his brows rising. “I did. I’ve been gone a long time, Ruby. I’m not coming back.”
    “That’s not what Miz Helena says,” Ruby countered. “She says you done come back and you going to stay. And you ask me, if that’s what she says, that’s what she mean. You’ll stay.”
    Kevin’s voice hardened slightly. “I didn’t ask you, Ruby,” he said. “But since you’ve taken it upon yourself to tell me, let me answer you. I don’t give a damn what my mother wants, and haven’t since I was eight years old. No more than she’s given a damn what I want. So why would I stay? I love my family, and I love my life, and I have no intention of changing it. Certainly,” he added, glancing meaningfully around the ancient kitchen, “not to live in this relic and try to pretend there’s anything left in Devereaux for any of us. The town’s dead, Ruby, and so is the house. When Mother’s gone—if Mother’s gone—I’ll be gone too. But even if she lives awhile longer, I won’t be staying.”
    Ruby said nothing, only watching him with her nearly black eyes. At last she heaved herself slowly to her feet and started back toward her room. She had nearly reached the door when she stopped and turned back.
    “I understand what you’re saying, Mr. Kevin,” she said. “But I know what Miz Helena means. You
are
a Devereaux, Mr. Kevin, and you
will
stay at Sea Oaks. That’s just the way things are. Don’t try to fight it, Mr. Kevin. It won’t do you no good at all. None.” Before he could reply, she disappearedinto her own room and silently closed the door behind her.
    Kevin sat alone for a long time after Ruby left, then finally bit into his sandwich. It tasted dry, and the bread seemed to stick in his throat. Throwing the rest of it into the trash basket beneath the sink, he switched off the lights and went back upstairs.
    But even after he was back in bed and had heard the clock in the hall softly strike the hour of two A.M ., he was still awake.
    Ruby’s words had driven the last possibility of sleep from him, and now the