Read Online The Measures Between Us by Ethan Hauser - Free Book Online
Authors: Ethan Hauser
Ads: Link
how to sneak closer. They parked the car on the shoulder of the closest township road and hiked three quarters of a mile through dense forest owned by a hunting club. Why Kingman didnât own this piece of land as well was a mystery to Jack. Maybe the hunters had refused his offers, no matter how inflated, out of defiance.
At the beginning Jack thought she was fascinated because she wanted to be in the chopper, see the land and houses from up there. The tops of trees, roofs of houses, all eighteen holes of a serpentining golf course, everything scaled down. But once when he said, âWe could probably find somewhere to take a helicopter ride,â she responded: âWhy would we do that?â He liked how much she could surprise him. Early on he was frustrated that he couldnât read what she wanted, but quickly, once he realized shedidnât mind, he started to savor these moments. They could be close and still be two totally different people.
She borrowed aviation books from the library and ordered subscriptions to helicopter magazines, cutting out pictures of the models she liked best and tacking them to her wall. She learned the names of Kingmanâsâthere were twoâand told Jack which machine was which. She paid such close attention that on quiet days she could recognize the nuances of their sounds long before they emerged into view. There was no schedule to his flights, and on many days they saw nothing. They would loiter for an hour or two, smoking cigarettes and staring at the sky, waiting for something that never came.
âWhat if heâs running a huge meth lab?â Jack said once. âMaybe heâs gone all Hells Angel.â Cynthia shook her head, smiling, knowing this was an absurd scenario. So did Jack, yet it was amusing to imagine the science whiz Kingmanâslight and dressed perpetually in khaki pants and a white button-down shirtâmixed up with bikers and drug addicts. Standing among each other, they would look like different species, occupying the same earth only accidentally.
âIâm sure heâs doing something we donât even know how to describe,â she said. âPeople like him live in a whole different world.â
âHeâs just got tons more money than anyone else. Heâs probably not all that different.â
âI know, but he can afford to get obsessed with whatever he wants.â
Aside from witnessing him board and exit his helicopter, Jack saw him only a single time. Jack was stopped at a traffic light in town, and a Range Rover with tinted windows pulled next tohim. One of the back windows rolled down, and there was Kingman, sticking his right hand out the window and shaking it, as if trying to loosen something he didnât want touching his skin. The glass quickly rolled back up, and Jack inched forward to see who was driving, curious to know if it was one of the security guards who had chased him and Cynthia away. He couldnât tell. With their dark sunglasses and close-cropped mustaches, they all looked the same.
There was a rumor that the driverâs ed teacher at school used to work for Kingman, and that he was forbidden to talk about him because Kingman made all his employees, down to the gardeners and trash collectors, sign nondisclosure agreements. Cynthia was one of the only students to fail the course and have to take it twice. Still, the instructor never told her anything, despite her persistent questions.
Jack liked watching the helicopter fly in at dusk, when the blue and red lights were blinking. He could pick it up sooner then, the blips approaching the landing pad, a cement church key set in the grass, weeds blunting the edges. They should solder lights to the blades, he thought, let them slice around against the darkening sky.
Usually there were people with Kingman in addition to the pilot, and they would exit the chopper while the blades still revolved. The pilot remained inside the
At the beginning Jack thought she was fascinated because she wanted to be in the chopper, see the land and houses from up there. The tops of trees, roofs of houses, all eighteen holes of a serpentining golf course, everything scaled down. But once when he said, âWe could probably find somewhere to take a helicopter ride,â she responded: âWhy would we do that?â He liked how much she could surprise him. Early on he was frustrated that he couldnât read what she wanted, but quickly, once he realized shedidnât mind, he started to savor these moments. They could be close and still be two totally different people.
She borrowed aviation books from the library and ordered subscriptions to helicopter magazines, cutting out pictures of the models she liked best and tacking them to her wall. She learned the names of Kingmanâsâthere were twoâand told Jack which machine was which. She paid such close attention that on quiet days she could recognize the nuances of their sounds long before they emerged into view. There was no schedule to his flights, and on many days they saw nothing. They would loiter for an hour or two, smoking cigarettes and staring at the sky, waiting for something that never came.
âWhat if heâs running a huge meth lab?â Jack said once. âMaybe heâs gone all Hells Angel.â Cynthia shook her head, smiling, knowing this was an absurd scenario. So did Jack, yet it was amusing to imagine the science whiz Kingmanâslight and dressed perpetually in khaki pants and a white button-down shirtâmixed up with bikers and drug addicts. Standing among each other, they would look like different species, occupying the same earth only accidentally.
âIâm sure heâs doing something we donât even know how to describe,â she said. âPeople like him live in a whole different world.â
âHeâs just got tons more money than anyone else. Heâs probably not all that different.â
âI know, but he can afford to get obsessed with whatever he wants.â
Aside from witnessing him board and exit his helicopter, Jack saw him only a single time. Jack was stopped at a traffic light in town, and a Range Rover with tinted windows pulled next tohim. One of the back windows rolled down, and there was Kingman, sticking his right hand out the window and shaking it, as if trying to loosen something he didnât want touching his skin. The glass quickly rolled back up, and Jack inched forward to see who was driving, curious to know if it was one of the security guards who had chased him and Cynthia away. He couldnât tell. With their dark sunglasses and close-cropped mustaches, they all looked the same.
There was a rumor that the driverâs ed teacher at school used to work for Kingman, and that he was forbidden to talk about him because Kingman made all his employees, down to the gardeners and trash collectors, sign nondisclosure agreements. Cynthia was one of the only students to fail the course and have to take it twice. Still, the instructor never told her anything, despite her persistent questions.
Jack liked watching the helicopter fly in at dusk, when the blue and red lights were blinking. He could pick it up sooner then, the blips approaching the landing pad, a cement church key set in the grass, weeds blunting the edges. They should solder lights to the blades, he thought, let them slice around against the darkening sky.
Usually there were people with Kingman in addition to the pilot, and they would exit the chopper while the blades still revolved. The pilot remained inside the
Similar Books
