Free Borderland by S. K. Epperson Page A

spied
Nolan on the porch swing. "Daddy, Uncle Nolan promised to play another
song for us later. It's later, Uncle Nolan. Will you please play a song?"
    Vic
lifted his eyebrows. "Play?"
    "Uncle
Nolan plays the piano," Christa explained.
    Nolan
groaned under his breath at Vic's sudden smile.
    "I
didn't know you played, Wulf. How can you know a man ten years and not know he
plays piano?"
    "I
can't," Nolan said. His hands were aching from the day’s activities. And
the bandages needed changing.
    "Yes
you can," Christa said. "Today he played rag something and then some
Jerry Lewis."
    "Ragtime,
huh?" Vic said, still smiling. "I'll be damned. I suppose you dance
too?"
    "Lay
off," Nolan growled, but Andy was already pulling at his arm. "Just
one song," she pleaded. "Just one before we have to take a bath and
go to bed. Please?"
    Nolan
realized he'd screwed up by ever playing for them in the first place. He wasn't
going to get out of this one. He glanced over and saw Cal watching him from the
foot of the porch steps. He couldn't read the kid's expression. Reluctantly, he
let Andy pull him off the swing and into the house. He sat down on the bench
and tried to think of a short song. When he glanced over his shoulder he saw
Cal standing on the porch and peering in at them through the screen door. He
lifted his chin to beckon the boy in, but Cal ignored him.
    "Okay,"
Nolan said. He took a deep breath and launched into a dirty ditty about a group
of drunken sailors on a visit to a whorehouse reputed to have the most
beautiful women in the world. The whores were indeed beautiful, but the men
passed out before their choices could be made. The girls, longing for a night
off, seized the opportunity and dressed each sailor in a wig and gown and put a
sign in the window touting a "rear end special" for the evening. He
skipped the verse about the customers' delight and went directly to the last
line, where each befuddled sailor volunteered for stand-up duty the next day.
    He was
rewarded with the sound of muffled laughter at the screen door, but when he
turned Cal was gone.
    "I
don't get it," Andy said.
    "Never
mind," Vic told her with a scowl in Nolan’s direction. "Come on. Bath
time."
    “Uncle Nolan
sings good, doesn't he?" Andy said as she clasped her father's hand.
    "I
still want to know if he can dance."
    Nolan
gave Vic the finger and got up from the bench. After that song, he doubted he'd
be asked to sing again. His hands were aching seriously now. He went into the
kitchen and filled up the sink with cool water. The water pressure was
terrible, but he credited it to the bath filling at the same time. After
stripping the gauze bandages off and soaking his hands for a soothing few
minutes, he climbed wearily up the stairs and fell into the bed in the first
bedroom at the top of the stairs. He left his hands uncovered. He didn't know
where the hell his new first aid stuff was. He guessed he'd find it in the
morning.
    The
moment his eyes closed he heard a small voice calling to him from the bottom of
the stairs. It was Christa. "You didn't say goodnight, Uncle Nolan. Daddy,
he didn't say…I will…I'm just telling him goodnight."
    "Goodnight,"
Nolan said loudly.
    "If
you get scared up there you can come and sleep with me and…Daddy, I am.
Goodnight, Uncle Nolan."
    Nolan
smiled to himself and closed his eyes again. After what seemed like five
minutes, he woke up to find himself drenched in sweat. He held up his arm to
look at his watch and the luminous hands told him he'd been asleep for almost
four hours. It was just after two o'clock. He dropped his arm and used the
chenille cover on the bed to wipe off his face. His lids drifted shut again,
but they shot open a second later when he experienced what felt like a draft on
his feet. Cool. He moaned to himself then switched positions on the bed,
putting his head where his feet had been.
    Before
his lids could close again, the window in the west wall slid shut with a bang.
    "Goddammit."
He