Summer People by Aaron Stander

looks like the victim was dead soon after the car left the road. Probably broke his neck when the car went over. But it was good that you spotted the wreck.”
    “Who was it good for? Wasn’t good for me; didn’t matter to him.”
    “True, but the car could have stayed down there a long time without anyone ever seeing it. I don’t think it would have ever been noticed by someone passing in a car or truck.”
    “And the victim?”
    “Fellow by the name of Roger Grimstock. I knew the car as soon as I saw it. Summer resident. From Grand Rapids. Spent most of his time at the Last Chance. We occasionally would pick him up after closing when he couldn’t keep his car on the road. I once found him drunk and asleep at the stop sign in Glen Arbor, motor running, lights on, radio blaring, car sitting there idling away in neutral. Don’t know what he was doing way over on Ely last night. I’m sorry you had to stumble onto the wreck.”
    “I didn’t need to find the car, but that doesn’t have much to do with it. I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. I was in an absolute panic; I couldn’t figure out what was causing it. Then it hit me that I may have made a big mistake.”
    “What kind of mistake? What are you talking about?” asked Ray.
    “Moving here. It suddenly occurred to me that this had always been a place I stopped off at—a kind of never-never land that I visited briefly when I was a kid, or going to prep school, or college, or working. It was never a real place. My identity was always somewhere else. I also thought about the fact that I walked away from a career that took years to build, more than a career, an identity. I woke up wondering who I was now. Had I been too precipitous in making my decision?”
    “Well,” asked Ray, “is there any reason why you can’t go back?”
    “Well, no, but it would be embarrassing. I have always thought of myself as prudent and thoughtful in making big decisions. How would it look….”
    “Relax. It’s no big thing; people change their minds. Marc, your problem is you never allowed yourself to make a mistake. And if you made a mistake, you would live with it rather than admitting it.”
    “What do you mean?” asked Marc.
    “How about Elaine?” said Ray showing some anger. “How many years did I have to come by and visit you with that cold bitch? I knew she didn’t like me; but she didn’t seem to like you very much either. But I could tell this was a contract you had entered into, and you were bound and determined to make it work. You were always so fucking high minded.”
    Marc let the comments about Elaine pass. He didn’t want to talk about her. “You don’t seem to understand. You don’t hear what I’m saying. I have always defined myself with my work. My work has been central to my whole life. What would you be if you suddenly weren’t the sheriff?”
    “That’s a real question, one I’ve thought about. It could happen. I like this work. It’s interesting, and I have been involved in it a long time. But if it all stopped tomorrow I would be able to make the adjustment. I’m not saying I wouldn’t miss being sheriff, but I could fill my time with other things that are worth doing. I could go back to college teaching; I could find work in industry. The thing that I would dislike most would be to have to move back to some urban area.
    “Marc, I hate to give advice, but you’re going to have to find some other things to do. You can only ride your bike and sail so many days. You’re too ‘type A’ to be on a permanent vacation. I thought you might be having some romantic problems that I could help you with.” Ray was giving Marc an ironic smile.
    Marc didn’t pick up on the humor. “Well, I’m worried about that too.”
    “What’s wrong? She looks happy as hell. You must be doing all the right things,” he said with a hint of lechery in his voice.
    “Goddamn it, Ray, this is serious stuff. It is going well. That’s