A Field Guide to Deception Read Online Free PDF Page A

spicy jerky. She had chocolate Sundrops for Simon as well. Ahead of her, Liv walked in sandals, her calves flexing during quick scrambles, her shoulders browning, unprotected by the thin straps of her orange tank top.
    â€œMaybe it’s grief,” Liv said.
    â€œYou mean this morning?”
    â€œYes.”
    Claire ignored this. To their right, the river tore past in frothy pitches. Why should having a child make her feel so much more alone? But it was true, Simon put her solitude into relief and it hurt her now. Her solitude hurt her.
    From the front of a raft, a woman screamed as the raft shot down the rapids beyond them. They heard the scream bend.
    â€œFun,” Claire said, the brim of her hat pulled too low to see Liv properly. Away from the house, she’d expected to outdistance the strange nagging, but she could feel it out here too. Liv’s interruption bothered her, called her mind into focus.
    â€œI’ve rafted here,” Liv said. “It’s too short, over too quickly.”
    The trail wound through a stretch of burn. Claire watched Simon jump over a charred log. Grief, her stubborn mind said. Maybe it’s grief. She had never worried while her aunt was alive. Never thought she’d be alone with a three-year-old. How did this happen? A morning jog, and you’re dead: a body in the snow. Among the burn, dozens of saplings poked through the litter.
    Simon slept on a towel from her pack; Claire and Liv reclined against a log. Along the little beach were smooth white stones of various sizes, and pieces of driftwood. Liv’s feet were bare; her shirt bunched behind her head.
    â€œWhat do your tattoos mean?” Claire asked.
    â€œNothing. They’re just designs.”
    â€œAre they Polynesian?”
    â€œThat’s right.”

    â€œSo they’re symbols without meaning?”
    â€œThey aren’t symbols, just designs.”
    â€œI think maybe it was grief,” Claire said.
    Liv looked at her. She tore into a piece of jerky and passed the bag to Claire. Claire had meant to say more. From the trees: birdsong. Light dappled the water.
    â€œHow is it you’re in Spokane?” Liv asked.
    â€œHow is it anyone’s here? Isn’t that really the question? It seems like people end up here on their way someplace else.”
    â€œSo, how is it you ended up here?”
    Claire pushed her hat up, and said, “I came here when I was twenty. Working for my aunt was just this temporary thing that lasted for fourteen years. Why are you here?”
    Liv lit a cigarette, stretched her body out, “I have no idea really. I was living in Portland and then I thought it wasn’t good for me. One morning, I packed my shit and drove here.”
    â€œYou have family here?”
    â€œNot anymore. Most of my friends have moved away.”
    Claire drank water and swatted at a mosquito. “Why wasn’t Portland good for you?”
    Beyond Liv’s feet, the water snagged. Pine trees leaned overhead.
    â€œPortland is too close to my family,” Liv said.
    â€œThat’s me and Seattle.”
    â€œBut with Simon, wouldn’t it be worth the trouble?”
    â€œNot for either of our sakes. Dee was the only family I ever got along with.” Claire grabbed a handful of rocks, and skipped them across the river, four five six times.

    On the shag carpet in her aunt’s study, Claire sat cross-legged, chin in her hand, and fumed. It was two in the morning, and she’d felt that nagging alarm again. Why was she awake and in this room? What was she meant to do? She would finish the bloody field guide. She’d find the notes and finish, and no one would ever guess there had been
entire days when she’d stared at her keyboard and not written a sentence. No one would ever know.
    This room was a hideous beast. Brown in every direction, like being buried alive. Maybe instead of starting with the kitchen, Liv should gut the basement.