Do you have another form of employment or avocation , community involvement that shapes your life ?
I ’ m an attorney who , before moving to Spokane , worked with abused children . The work impacted my life ( and probably my writing ) considerably . I like to think that I ’ ve always been an empathetic person , but working with abused children served as a constant reminder that you never know what people are going through and this understanding should guide your interactions with people .
What do you want people to know about your writing or your life ?
I want people to understand and appreciate the importance of books in general . A couple of years ago a study designed and commissioned by the National Endowment for the Arts concluded that active readers are markedly more civilly engaged than nonreaders in the same socio-economic class and are in fact four times more likely to perform charity work . Reading broadens our perspective by forcing us into the shoes of people whose lives are different from our own . So , I want people to know the importance of supporting their local authors , their local libraries , and their local bookstores ( shoutout to The Wishing Tree and Aunties Bookstore ). Finally , I want people to elect presidents who don ’ t brag about not reading books .
Ian ’ s work is available in local bookstores , Wishing Tree Books and Auntie ’ s . For more information about his work , https :// www . ianpisarcik . com /. s
Ruth Fenn sat on the porch chair with her husband ’ s deer rifle laid across the caps of her knees and the steam from her black coffee rising up beside her and listened to the sound of studded snow tires splash the water from the bottoms of the ruts .
She watched the Ford with the broken side mirror come up the gravel drive and stop a good twenty feet from the house . She watched Della Downing get out of the truck and put her boot on a spot of gravel where the snow had stuck .
“ You can stop right there ,” Ruth said . Della closed the driver ’ s side door . “ How are you doing , Ruth ?” “ Ain ’ t any of your damned business how I ’ m doing .”
Della pulled the lapels of her jacket close together and took a step toward the house . Ruth tightened her grip on the rifle just enough to let Della see her do it .
Della paused . “ It ’ s not you I ’ m here to see .” “ Should I assume you ’ ve gone senile and forgot who ’ s living in this house ?” “ It ’ s your husband I ’ m here to talk to .”
Snow clouds covered the sky over the southernmost portion of the Green Mountain range . The birches that crowded the ten-acre property were tall and white and shedding their bark . A low morning fog clung to everything as though the trees had gotten themselves caught up in cobwebs . Ruth , fifty-two , her face rigid enough to unlock a keyhole , round rimless glasses and gray hair that rested on her shoulders , faced the cold and blinked against it .
“ What is it you want with Elam ?” “ Horace didn ’ t come home last night . It was Elam he said he was going out with .” “ Why would that be ?” “ I don ’ t know exactly .” “ And you didn ’ t wonder to ask him ?”
“ I didn ’ t have a chance . He left a note .” Della took another step forward . She wore ten-inch muck boots and a wool coat . Her dark hair came straight down under her snow hat . Dark as night . Not a thing like Ruth ’ s , which had turned the color of wood ash . “ Can I assume Elam didn ’ t come home neither ? Can I assume that ’ s why there ’ s no truck in the drive and you ’ re sitting there with that gun in your lap ?”
“ Just ’ cause I had it out for him don ’ t mean I won ’ t use it on you .” Somewhere in the distance a truck drove by on the road , and then there was silence . “ Both our husbands are missing , then ,” Della said . “ Your husband ’ s missing . I got a pretty good idea about where to find mine .” “ He ain ’ t at the Whistler .” Ruth took a sip of black coffee and set the mug down on the wooden side table . “ Horace ’ s truck is still there . Parked in front of the bar . But Elam ’ s ain ’ t .” “ Maybe Horace went home with someone , then .” Della shook her head . “ That ain ’ t like him — that ain ’ t like Horace .” “ I don ’ t know nothing about what Horace is like .”
“ You know him . He ’ s not somebody different than the man who grew up three houses down from here . The one that used to take your boy to Little League practice when you had to work late .”
Ruth took the rifle from her lap and leaned it against the clapboard . “ I ’ m not sure why you ’ re here .” “ I came here to talk to Elam .” “ He ain ’ t here .” “ I understand that now .” “ And yet you ’ re still in my drive .” “ I figured you might have some thoughts on the two of them being together .” “ It ’ s Horace who said they were together .”
Flurries landed on the steps . The wind blew some onto the porch , and some clung to Ruth ’ s arms and legs .
There had been no flurries the night Ruth ’ s boy and Della ’ s boy went missing . It was three summers ago . The middle of a hot July . Della had shown up in the same truck . She had driven right up to the house , though . Come up the porch steps and let herself inside like she had done a million times . Ruth met her in the hall and sat her down at the kitchen table and put her hand over Della ’ s hand and told her that it would be okay — even though it didn ’ t turn out that way .
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