she?”
“She’ll be okay. She’s tougher than she looks. Just not used to tripping over bodies in the moonlight.”
“Like the rest of us.”
“Yeah,” Danny agreed. “Not a good way to end a party.”
“You don’t have to stay. This is my obsession,” I said.
I heard Joanne’s voice. It was her professional voice, cool, almost toneless. She was talking to the local police and leading them here.
“Aha. The cavalry,” Danny said.
“Much too late,” I answered.
The police arrived, bringing voices and lights everywhere. There was nothing more I could do. I went back to the lawn. Sending Rosie and Melanie to bed, I took up the guard post to keep away the idly curious. Few people came by, most staying away from this part of the yard. A lot of people had left. More were leaving as I stood my watch.
“Mick? They want to talk to you,” Joanne said, coming up behind me.
I followed her back into the woods. But this time I didn’t go near the body. I could do no more for her. I told them my story (leaving out what Joanne and I had been doing when we first heard Nina’s screams). They nodded silently and wrote it down. Then Danny led me away.
“Get some sleep, Mick,” she said. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks, Danno.”
We walked out of the woods together.
“Good night,” she said, hugging me tightly, then yawning, she turned toward her cottage.
“Night, Danny,” I answered, glad for a friend like her.
I walked back to the house, tired, but knew I couldn’t sleep. The first gray light of dawn was visible, finally fighting the dark night.
I went to the kitchen to see if there was anyone around. But the room was dim and deserted, people gone or gone to bed. There were no voices, no creaking floorboards to indicate anyone about.
I stood in the silent kitchen, wanting to put something between me and the scene in the woods. My hands were trembling. I found a bottle of Scotch. I went back outside, heading in the opposite direction from where the police surrounded the lonely body.
Dawn was still only a gray reflection of the sun. I walked down a trail into the forest to a clearing where I knew the sun would soon shine. The stump of an old oak tree destroyed by lightning a long time ago was there. I sat down on it, setting the bottle beside me.
The first tendrils of light found their way through the trees. A pale golden dawn. I sat still, listening to the wakening birds calling one another to the morning.
Death hits hard. It always does. She was younger than I.
“Well, you were right about one thing,” I said to myself, “You didn’t get to sleep with anyone tonight.” I was talking out loud to hear the sound of my voice. I sounded cracked and tired, not like the brave sophisticate I wanted to be. I looked at the bottle, but I didn’t pick it up. Instead I watched the rising sun as it colored in the glade.
“Drunk enough yet?” Joanne said from behind me. “I saw you cut across the lawn with a bottle.”
I turned my head toward her, too benumbed by the night’s events to jerk or even be startled at her abrupt appearance. She had taken a shower. Her hair was still wet, her eyes a veiled gray behind her glasses.
“Why don’t you put the bottle away and get some sleep?”
“I’d have to be very drunk to sleep. Too drunk to wake from nightmares.”
“Shit,” Joanne muttered, shaking her head. “You might be a decent person if you weren’t a drunken fuck-up,” she added angrily.
“Half right. Yeah, I’m a fuck-up, but at least this time I’m not drunk. I haven’t been drunk in a while.”
I picked up the bottle and put it between us. Joanne lifted the Scotch and examined the unbroken seal.
“How long?” she finally said.
“Two months.”
She didn’t say anything, still looking at the bottle as if she didn’t believe me.
“I know it’s not much,” I said. “Not enough to bother mentioning…”
“It’s a start. I’m sorry for jumping on
“She’ll be okay. She’s tougher than she looks. Just not used to tripping over bodies in the moonlight.”
“Like the rest of us.”
“Yeah,” Danny agreed. “Not a good way to end a party.”
“You don’t have to stay. This is my obsession,” I said.
I heard Joanne’s voice. It was her professional voice, cool, almost toneless. She was talking to the local police and leading them here.
“Aha. The cavalry,” Danny said.
“Much too late,” I answered.
The police arrived, bringing voices and lights everywhere. There was nothing more I could do. I went back to the lawn. Sending Rosie and Melanie to bed, I took up the guard post to keep away the idly curious. Few people came by, most staying away from this part of the yard. A lot of people had left. More were leaving as I stood my watch.
“Mick? They want to talk to you,” Joanne said, coming up behind me.
I followed her back into the woods. But this time I didn’t go near the body. I could do no more for her. I told them my story (leaving out what Joanne and I had been doing when we first heard Nina’s screams). They nodded silently and wrote it down. Then Danny led me away.
“Get some sleep, Mick,” she said. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks, Danno.”
We walked out of the woods together.
“Good night,” she said, hugging me tightly, then yawning, she turned toward her cottage.
“Night, Danny,” I answered, glad for a friend like her.
I walked back to the house, tired, but knew I couldn’t sleep. The first gray light of dawn was visible, finally fighting the dark night.
I went to the kitchen to see if there was anyone around. But the room was dim and deserted, people gone or gone to bed. There were no voices, no creaking floorboards to indicate anyone about.
I stood in the silent kitchen, wanting to put something between me and the scene in the woods. My hands were trembling. I found a bottle of Scotch. I went back outside, heading in the opposite direction from where the police surrounded the lonely body.
Dawn was still only a gray reflection of the sun. I walked down a trail into the forest to a clearing where I knew the sun would soon shine. The stump of an old oak tree destroyed by lightning a long time ago was there. I sat down on it, setting the bottle beside me.
The first tendrils of light found their way through the trees. A pale golden dawn. I sat still, listening to the wakening birds calling one another to the morning.
Death hits hard. It always does. She was younger than I.
“Well, you were right about one thing,” I said to myself, “You didn’t get to sleep with anyone tonight.” I was talking out loud to hear the sound of my voice. I sounded cracked and tired, not like the brave sophisticate I wanted to be. I looked at the bottle, but I didn’t pick it up. Instead I watched the rising sun as it colored in the glade.
“Drunk enough yet?” Joanne said from behind me. “I saw you cut across the lawn with a bottle.”
I turned my head toward her, too benumbed by the night’s events to jerk or even be startled at her abrupt appearance. She had taken a shower. Her hair was still wet, her eyes a veiled gray behind her glasses.
“Why don’t you put the bottle away and get some sleep?”
“I’d have to be very drunk to sleep. Too drunk to wake from nightmares.”
“Shit,” Joanne muttered, shaking her head. “You might be a decent person if you weren’t a drunken fuck-up,” she added angrily.
“Half right. Yeah, I’m a fuck-up, but at least this time I’m not drunk. I haven’t been drunk in a while.”
I picked up the bottle and put it between us. Joanne lifted the Scotch and examined the unbroken seal.
“How long?” she finally said.
“Two months.”
She didn’t say anything, still looking at the bottle as if she didn’t believe me.
“I know it’s not much,” I said. “Not enough to bother mentioning…”
“It’s a start. I’m sorry for jumping on
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