do to gain the tiniest advantage.
Jacob had a thick, plush-looking, purple hooded sweatshirt cloaking his torso. For some reason the comfortable sight of it made me want to take a nap. His black cotton shorts had the letters TRU printed on the left side and carried a small depiction of the school mascot on the right—“The Railer.” This made-up term, and the accompanying logo, were intended to represent a railroad worker pounding a steel spike into the ground with a ferocious-looking sledgehammer. I actually thought it more closely resembled a man in the middle of a backswing with a golf club preparing to strike a slightly misshapen penis.
The four of us made small talk as we finished warming up.
“No, no, no . . . Cimitrex is going to get bought out; it’s just a matter of time,” Randy rambled about his latest stock tip.
“I never invest heavily in tech stocks,” said Aaron. “Sure, I missed out on a lot during the early nineties, but when the bubble burst, I stayed nice and dry.”
“Cyprus, did you take my advice on that mutual fund?” Aaron asked as he paid extra attention to a troublesome calf muscle.
I distractedly told him that I hadn’t, but I would look into it.
Randy and Aaron continued ranting about the market, while Jacob and I continued limbering up.
Jacob spoke quietly, “How did things go with Silo?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
Aaron and Randy weren’t listening, but I didn’t want to get into it with them around. It seemed that word of my blowup during the police interview hadn’t reached them yet.
Changing the subject, I asked, “Aren’t you supposed to have a meeting this week with the federal guys about some grant money?”
“Spent two hours with them at WVU this morning. I just got back here on campus. It’s looking pretty good, but there is still some finagling to do.”
I slipped into the bitchy cynicism that cops have sometimes. “So they made you spend ninety minutes driving to Morgantown for a two-hour meeting, just so you could turn around and drive ninety minutes back? How courteous of them.”
Shrugging it off, Jacob said, “They have the money for research and TRU wants me to do the research. That’s the way the game is played.”
I didn’t care about any of this. I was just trying to act normal. Trying to feel normal. I started feeling foolish for engaging in what Jacob had to know was a weak effort at self-distraction.
I got quiet and pulled a leg back behind me to loosen a quad muscle.
“You don’t look well, my friend. You have to relax. Even if Steven does find out about it, perhaps he won’t be upset.” Jacob consoled.
“Steven is just part of it,” I admitted. “I don’t think I told you, the murdered girl had come to my office on the day she was killed.”
I had a short inward debate about telling Jacob about why she had come to see me, and opted to keep that information to myself.
I changed course with, “I’m no stranger to seeing death, but it’s never easy to see somebody alive one minute and know they were gone a short while later.”
Jacob nodded his understanding.
“I’ve been here a long time, Cyprus. Unfortunately, this happens from time to time. Usually it’s an accident—a car crash or overdose—but it’s always hard to take when it happens to a student you had in class. For most of the city, it’s just some blonde girl who had a future snuffed out like the flame on a candle. But for anybody who was in the classroom with her, they’ll be stuck with an empty seat to remind them of the loss. I know it’s weird. Even when you don’t know your students well, you still feel responsible for them. It’s like their parents, whom you never met, entrusted their child to you. You illogically think it is your job to protect them, but you can’t.”
The four of us finished stretching, ran out of small talk, and set out southward toward the Allegheny River. Lindsay’s murder didn’t come up in conversation until the
Jacob had a thick, plush-looking, purple hooded sweatshirt cloaking his torso. For some reason the comfortable sight of it made me want to take a nap. His black cotton shorts had the letters TRU printed on the left side and carried a small depiction of the school mascot on the right—“The Railer.” This made-up term, and the accompanying logo, were intended to represent a railroad worker pounding a steel spike into the ground with a ferocious-looking sledgehammer. I actually thought it more closely resembled a man in the middle of a backswing with a golf club preparing to strike a slightly misshapen penis.
The four of us made small talk as we finished warming up.
“No, no, no . . . Cimitrex is going to get bought out; it’s just a matter of time,” Randy rambled about his latest stock tip.
“I never invest heavily in tech stocks,” said Aaron. “Sure, I missed out on a lot during the early nineties, but when the bubble burst, I stayed nice and dry.”
“Cyprus, did you take my advice on that mutual fund?” Aaron asked as he paid extra attention to a troublesome calf muscle.
I distractedly told him that I hadn’t, but I would look into it.
Randy and Aaron continued ranting about the market, while Jacob and I continued limbering up.
Jacob spoke quietly, “How did things go with Silo?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
Aaron and Randy weren’t listening, but I didn’t want to get into it with them around. It seemed that word of my blowup during the police interview hadn’t reached them yet.
Changing the subject, I asked, “Aren’t you supposed to have a meeting this week with the federal guys about some grant money?”
“Spent two hours with them at WVU this morning. I just got back here on campus. It’s looking pretty good, but there is still some finagling to do.”
I slipped into the bitchy cynicism that cops have sometimes. “So they made you spend ninety minutes driving to Morgantown for a two-hour meeting, just so you could turn around and drive ninety minutes back? How courteous of them.”
Shrugging it off, Jacob said, “They have the money for research and TRU wants me to do the research. That’s the way the game is played.”
I didn’t care about any of this. I was just trying to act normal. Trying to feel normal. I started feeling foolish for engaging in what Jacob had to know was a weak effort at self-distraction.
I got quiet and pulled a leg back behind me to loosen a quad muscle.
“You don’t look well, my friend. You have to relax. Even if Steven does find out about it, perhaps he won’t be upset.” Jacob consoled.
“Steven is just part of it,” I admitted. “I don’t think I told you, the murdered girl had come to my office on the day she was killed.”
I had a short inward debate about telling Jacob about why she had come to see me, and opted to keep that information to myself.
I changed course with, “I’m no stranger to seeing death, but it’s never easy to see somebody alive one minute and know they were gone a short while later.”
Jacob nodded his understanding.
“I’ve been here a long time, Cyprus. Unfortunately, this happens from time to time. Usually it’s an accident—a car crash or overdose—but it’s always hard to take when it happens to a student you had in class. For most of the city, it’s just some blonde girl who had a future snuffed out like the flame on a candle. But for anybody who was in the classroom with her, they’ll be stuck with an empty seat to remind them of the loss. I know it’s weird. Even when you don’t know your students well, you still feel responsible for them. It’s like their parents, whom you never met, entrusted their child to you. You illogically think it is your job to protect them, but you can’t.”
The four of us finished stretching, ran out of small talk, and set out southward toward the Allegheny River. Lindsay’s murder didn’t come up in conversation until the
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