Free Wintertide: A Novel by Debra Doxer Page A

this place."
    It actually wasn't as bad as I had
thought. I’d imagined them planning a convenience store robbery. Like most
other year round residents, I harbored a definite desire to see the interior of
these tremendous summer homes, the likes of which I would surely never own. It
seemed to be a harmless enough activity. I looked over at Eddie. He stood with
his back to me staring out over the ocean, his white breath floating up over
his head.
    "Sure, why not," I shrugged.
    Eddie turned around and eyed me
levelly. "We'd better walk there," he said. "We don't want
anybody to spot our cars parked in front."
    I stared into his bloodshot eyes
and agreed despite the cold. He was in no condition to drive and the house was
just up the road. Up being the pivotal term. It was a steep climb, and I lagged
behind them.
    I was rounding the last curve of
the long winding driveway, when the house suddenly appeared before me looming in
the darkness. I had only seen it from a distance. I hadn't realized how truly
tremendous it was. It had three stories with large picture windows lining each
level. In the blackness, the white trellises that covered the front shimmered
softly. Jutting gables broke up the long sloping roof.
    The concept of such great wealth, a
house with so many empty rooms, overwhelmed me. How much did it cost to heat
that monstrosity? I remembered the now bankrupt owners and that Beatles song
came to mind, “The Fool On The Hill.” The fact that this had been merely a
summer house, used only three months out of the year, was astounding. It made
me angry suddenly, the thought of wasting so much money while other people, me
for instance, had nothing.
    I saw Eddie jimmying open a low
window by the left side of the house. Seth was holding a bundle of sticks in
his arms. I reached them breathlessly, a cold layer of sweat tickling my back. When
the opening was wide enough, Eddie pulled himself inside head first, landing
heavily with an audible thump. That's going to hurt like hell in the morning, I
thought. Seth handed him the pile of branches and went in after him, first
putting one foot in and then disappearing inside.
    I stepped over to the window, my
breathing still labored from the climb. It was dark inside, and I could only
see the outline of sparse furniture, a chair here, a coffee table there. I
heard Seth and Eddie moving around inside. I began to pull myself in, but my heavy
coat was causing me problems as it bunched up around me in the narrow opening,
momentarily wedging me in. Seth pointed at me and laughed, while Eddie
attempted to start a fire in the large stone hearth. I finally managed to
propel myself inward and take a look around.
    Eddie was able to ignite a
respectable flame. It caught on quickly, crackling, radiating warmth and a
flickering orange glow in the spacious room. He picked up a fireplace poker
with an ornate gold handle from a matching set that sat by the fireplace, and he
poked at the flame, pushing the outlying branches toward the middle. The
hardwood floor reflected the light, casting it upward toward the high plaster
ceiling. The walls were bare, but a small oriental rug lay before the hearth
and some red velvet cushioned chairs were positioned around it. From Seth's
description, I had expected to find cigarette butts and old empty beer cans
lying on the floor, but there were none. My footsteps echoed loudly as I walked
toward the fire. I could feel its heat on my face.
    "Maybe you'll own a place like
this one day," Eddie said softly.
    I looked at him. Was he talking to
me? "In another life maybe," I laughed.
    "This all might as well be
ours tonight," he said as he slowly stood, stretching his arms out beside
him. "You've got to take what you want, Hiller, because nobody is going to
give it to you."
    "What about earning it?"
I asked.
    He laughed. "Do you honestly
think I could ever earn enough to own a place like this?"
    "You could win the lottery,” I
joked.
    “I’m not exactly a lucky