Assumption (25 page)

Warren went home and found Mary sitting in the kitchen working on a quilt. He sat without speaking.

Mary kept sewing.

Warren looked over at the stovetop. There was a pot of something simmering there. “Is that chili?”

“Yes,” Mary said. “Where is Ogden?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you think is going on?”

“Do you remember when we thought a raccoon was getting into our garbage?”

Mary kept sewing.

“Turned out it was dogs.”

“Would you like some chili?”

“Not right now,” Warren said.

“Are you going out again tonight?” she asked.

“I might be out for a while, so don’t wait up.”

“Is Ogden all right?”

“No.”

It was dark, but Warren knew he had to drive out there. The rain had finally arrived, rolling in first with fog that made the driving difficult, then the rain began to sweep through as if in sheets. Warren turned off his lights as he crossed the cattle guard off the highway. The hatchery office was closed, as it should have been, and it was dark, as it should have been. Warren had a thought that if a person wanted to steal fish, this would be when he’d try. Both the lower and upper parking lots were empty. Warren sat in his rig, his back aching from so many hours in that seat, and tried to control his breathing, concentrating on exhaling, trying to force everything out, everything. He reached above his head and removed the bulb from his interior ceiling light, then opened his door and got out. He walked slowly past the hatchery and past the dam, the wind and rain pushing him forward and then back, unable to make up its mind which way to blow, he thought. The beam of his flashlight raked through the trees and brush. He caught the bright yellow eyes of a raccoon cruising through the wet night on its way to poach a few trout. The animal didn’t bolt, but calmly moved past him. Warren came to the spot where Terry’s body had been found. He shined his light all around and moved on downstream. Another fifty, then a hundred yards. He moved his light slowly, looking for anything that didn’t seem right, anything that made him stop the light. No one ever came down here. The footing was treacherous and that was if you could find a place to stand at all, much less fish. And there were no good lies for the trout, so when Warren saw a part of what he thought was a boot print, a heel, he became nervous. The rain was starting in earnest again now and the print that was dried hard would soon be gone. He got down on his knees and shined the light on every inch of dirt and between rocks and under boulders. He crawled up the bank a few yards and there was a hand, a real human hand, the fingers twisted impossibly, the rest of the body covered with branches and sage. Warren swallowed hard and felt momentarily queasy.

“I had a feeling.” The voice was Ogden’s.

Warren turned around and put the light on Ogden’s face.

“Turn the light off, Warren.”

Warren did. Then the only light was the one Ogden held on him.

“What’s going on, Ogden?”

“Not much. Not much. Why don’t you tell me what you think is going on?”

Warren couldn’t see his friend’s face, not that he would have recognized him if he could. “I think you killed this man right here. Somehow Terry Lowell found you with the body and you shot him, too.”

“That’s pretty much it.”

“Why, Ogden?”

“Because I didn’t want to get caught.”

“No, I mean why you’d kill this guy?”

“Pretty much because I could, Warren.” Ogden sighed. “It was a night sort of like this one. I brought him here and Terry was thinking he’d find a poacher at the hatchery at night.”

“Jesus, Ogden.”

“I’m a disappointment, I know.”

“You killed the men at that house, too.”

“I did. I suppose I did.”

“None of this makes any sense,” Warren said. He wished he could see his friend’s eyes. “What in the world are you into? Are you on drugs or something?”

“Of course it doesn’t make sense. What does make sense, Warren? Nothing in this damn world makes sense. Just look around. I’m out of my fucking mind. I must be. What do you think? Does that have it all make sense for you? I’m an evil man.
Live
is
evil
spelled backward or is it the other way around? I’m evil. I suppose that’s what they’ll say. I’m possessed by the devil,
lived
spelled backward. Does that have it make sense? I wanted some drug money. I’m hooked on meth. Do any of those reasons help this make sense? I was tired of being a good guy. Was I ever a good guy? How about that? Does that have it make sense for you? This is the way it is, Warren, simply the way it fucking is. Sad, sad, sad, sad, sad. Shitty, shitty, bang, bang. Nothing makes sense and that’s the only way that any of it can make sense. Here I am, the way I am, not making any sense. Blood in the water. Blood on my shirt.”

“You know, I’m not stupid, Ogden?”

“I know that, Warren. You’re unlucky, but you’re not stupid. And you found me. I knew you would. That makes you a smart guy, but you are unlucky.”

Warren watched the light as Ogden repositioned himself, adjusted his footing on the slippery rocks. He knew that Ogden had pointed a pistol at him. Warren was cursing himself for not carrying a weapon himself, but he never did and tonight was no different.

“I know you’re not stupid, Warren.”

“Are you going to shoot me?”

“I suppose.”

“I mean, I’m really not stupid, Ogden.”

“I’m counting on that, Warren.”

The shot made animals scurry through the darkness of the brush. It made Warren wince and tighten and his ears rang. Ogden took a step and fell forward.

Warren turned his light back on and looked at the face on his boots. It was not a face he knew. “I hope that’s you, Bucky,” Warren called out into the dark.

“It’s me.”

PERCIVAL EVERETT is Distinguished Professor of English at the University of Southern California and the author of eighteen novels, including
I Am Not Sidney Poitier, The Water Cure, and Erasure.

Assumption
has been typeset in Dante, a font created by Giovanni Mardersteig and Charles Malin in the mid-1950s. Design and composition by BookMobile Design and Publishing Services, Minneapolis, Minnesota. Manufactured by Versa Press on acid-­free 30 percent postconsumer wastepaper.