The Icing on the Corpse by Mary Jane Maffini

away.”
    They were all looking at me when I hung up.
    â€œLord thundering Jesus, Camilla, you're dead white,” Alvin said.
    â€œMy dear Ms. MacPhee, you certainly are.”
    Merv looked up. “I've seen flour with better colour than that.”
    â€œWhat's wrong?” Elaine asked.
    Lindsay buried her head in her hands.

    Okay, looking at the team guarding Lindsay, I would be the first to admit the whole thing was like a bad sitcom. Cast of quirky characters in high-tension situation unlikely to occur in real life. Half an hour of snappy dialogue and rigged up conflicts and then a nice neat resolution. Canned laughter and then cut to commercial. Then nothing to do but wait for next week's show.
    Except that in real life a little sitcom goes a long way. And no one was laughing.
    With the threat to Lindsay, it's hard to believe we were all dozy. I smothered a yawn. So did Elaine. Alvin didn't even bother smothering his. Merv let out a little snore. Mrs. Parnell's head jerked a tad. Lindsay was horizontal on the sofa, unmoving. The arm of the cream tunic sweater peeked from under the blanket Merv had placed gently over her.
    â€œOkay, listen up,” I said. “We can't let down our guard. That means staying awake.”
    â€œAs a rule,” Mrs. Parnell said, “you take turns keeping watch.” Merv and Alvin turned their attention to her. “Since we are five,” she continued, “let us have two keep watch, and three sleep. Four hour shifts work best. Then three will be fresh at about three in the morning, when, if I were Benning, I'd be making my entrance.”
    â€œRight.” Exactly what he would do. But where did she get this stuff?
    â€œSo,” I added, “who gets the first sleep shift?”
    Of course, Lindsay was actually already asleep, her cashmere arm covering her face. That's tranks for you.
    â€œYou go first,” Merv said, without taking his eyes off Lindsay. “I don't need to sleep. That way there will be three of us at all times.
    â€œI don't actually sleep either,” Mrs. Parnell said. “Never close an eye in the average night.”
    â€œMe neither,” Alvin said.
    Elaine crossed her arms. “I certainly don't want to miss anything. I skipped the ice sculpture competition for this. I don't intend to snooze through it.”
    â€œFine,” I said, “we'll all stay awake all night, the whole bunch of us. No one closes an eye.”
    That's the last thing I remembered.

Nine
    I opened my eyes to see something black, vile and smelly It took a while to recognize Alvin's sock, still containing Alvin's foot. How many times had I heard Alvin say kiss my foot? But I'd never thought it would happen. I pushed the sock away. It banged, vigorously. Leave it to Alvin.
    But the noise came from somewhere else. Oh, the front door. Strange. Not my front door. Where was I? And why was I anywhere with Alvin's foot? It took a minute to recognize Lindsay's place.
    Lindsay's place, where I had apparently chosen to bunk down on the gleaming maple floor for a long winter's nap. Every bone in my body complained as I stumbled to my feet. To make matters worse, Alvin continued to snore. No wait, that wasn't Alvin. Merv, his face mashed up against the leg of the sofa, issued a thunderous largo roar. In a pleasant counterpoint, Elaine emitted high-pitched flutelike trills. She lay with her head under the end table.
    The banging continued. My heart thundered. Who was at the door? Would Benning have the nerve to knock? No way. He'd never make it past the cops. It must be the cops checking up on us. Bang. Bang.
    â€œComing,” I bellowed.
    You'd have thought it would be loud enough to wake the others.
    Not so. Even Mrs. Violet “I never close an eye” Parnell continued to snooze intently, bent over in her chair at a forty-five degree angle, her head cushioned by the stainless steel handles of her walker.
    I was the only one awake but we were