Rules for Werewolves (28 page)

BOOK: Rules for Werewolves
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—That’s what it seemed like.

—You’re the housekeeper for the Baxters?

—Who are the Baxters?

—I’m sorry. I read so many files. I get the little facts mixed up. You’re the housekeeper for the Yorks.

—That’s right. I normally work Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, but they’re in Israel—

—They’re back.

—Excuse me?

—The Yorks have been back for some time. They heard what happened and they came back. They haven’t been in to see you?

—I don’t think so. I don’t remember.

—They may not know you’re talking. They probably do. But they may not. They may have come while you were unconscious and they haven’t had time since you started talking.

—I don’t remember.

—But you were saying—when the Yorks were in Israel—what was your schedule then?

—I didn’t have a schedule. I just stopped by at random times and checked on the place.

—But the plants had to be watered.

—Yessir.

—So that means you were still probably stopping by about—what?—three times a week?

—Oh, no. That’d kill a plant to get that much water. I imagine I stopped by once a week.

—But on different days.

—Sure, because if there were burglars casing the joint, or something, I wouldn’t want them to know my pattern. So I would randomly stop by.

—And you would water the plants and do some laundry—that sort of thing.

—There wasn’t any laundry to be done. There wasn’t anybody home.

—Well, maybe you would dust or something?

—No sense in dusting until the day before they return. That’s what I had planned. A big cleaning day the day before they return. Dust everything. Do windows. Fresh sheets. So that everything would seem fresh.

—That’s today.

—What?

—Well, if everything had gone as planned they would have been returning from Israel tomorrow and you would be doing the big clean today.

—I guess so.

—But the house got broken into and you got attacked and the Baxters came back early.

—The Yorks.

—That’s right. The Yorks. The reason I keep saying “the Baxters” is I have this other case where this house got burned down maybe a month ago. And I keep wondering if maybe the two cases are related.

—Why?

—Well, the arson investigator said there was evidence that some homeless people had been living in the Baxters’ house, because there were blankets and mattresses all over the place—and trash and food.

—And you think these are the same people?

—But you didn’t see any blankets lying around all over, did you?

—No.

—Where do the Yorks keep their blankets?

—You know, in drawers and closets.

—And where do they keep their plants?

—What do you mean?

—Where are the plants in the Yorks’ house? I got that right that time, see?

—Yeah. I see. The Yorks keep their plants all over.

—Are there any plants in the closet in the master bedroom?

—I see. Yeah. There’s no plants in there.

—Just blankets and clothes?

—Yessir.

—And you weren’t doing any laundry or putting away any blankets you saw lying around in weird places all over the house?

—No, sir.

—Then why did you open the closet?

—I don’t remember.

—What
do
you remember?

—They were in there, waiting for me.

—You were looking for them. Weren’t you?

—I must have heard something.

—Probably Sting. That’s what was playing on the stereo when the EMS got there. On repeat.

—Did you tell the Yorks all this? Is that why they haven’t come to visit?

—I haven’t told the Yorks anything. I don’t know why they haven’t come to visit. I’m not really interested in the Yorks. And I’m not really interested in you. You’re not under investigation.

—What do you want to know?

—The other police that you spoke with told me you were the Yorks’ housekeeper. And when I wrote down what I could remember, I wrote that you were there, at the Yorks’ house that night, working. But when I looked back at the file I saw that that was only an assumption I was making. So what I want to ask you about is: Why were you up in the master bedroom? Why did you open that closet door where someone was waiting to attack you?

—I was looking for them.

—You knew they were in the house. You had spoken with them before. And you had struck some kind of deal.

—And I was looking for them to tell them the deal was off.

—And what did they say?

—They attacked me before I could say anything.

—I guess they had made some assumptions of their own.

—Yessir.

—But you spoke with them before. You made some kind of arrangement. You can tell me. I’m not going to tell the Yorks.

—Thank you.

—I want you to tell me everything. How many there were. What size, shape, and color they appeared to be. How long you think they were there. How long you had agreed to let them stay. And I’m gonna need you to tell me
why
you agreed to let them stay. But first I want you to tell me what they were like.

—They were stupid.

—Go on.

—They didn’t really have a plan. I mean, they figured out how to manipulate me for a day or so. But after I thought about it, I decided I could get rid of them.

—But they attacked you.

—Even then. They didn’t know what to do. They were just as surprised and as scared as I was. I mean, the first one hit me pretty hard. But then after that, the rest of them, they just held me down. That’s why I could hear them coming up the stairs and out from under the bed. They weren’t doing anything. They were just holding me and calling out for Malcolm.

—And Malcolm is the one that did all this to you.

—Malcolm did some of it. At first. Like he was teaching a lesson. And then slowly, the others learned how to do it, too.

75
Timothy wants to stop walking
.

—We gotta stop, Robert. My feet are tired.

—You still have feet? I wore mine away a couple nights ago. Now I just have nubs I balance on. If I stop I’ll fall over.

—Give me five minutes to take off my shoes and rub my feet.

—Are you crazy? If you take off your shoes now your feet’ll swell up and they won’t fit back in your shoes for at least six hours.

—How do you know?

—The hard way. I ran away from home before—remember?

—Well, just let me stop and sit.

—No.

—Five minutes. Please.

—It’s the same thing. You try to rest for five minutes and your legs’ll cramp up and it’ll be two hours of me feeding you water and massaging your calves.

—That sounds nice.

—Yeah?

—Yeah.

—All right. If you keep walking ’til the moon goes down, I’ll massage your calves until you fall asleep.

—That sounds like a good deal, but it’s just the reverse of what you were saying about time. I agree to it, imagining you’re gonna give me a
two-hour massage, but after I walk all night, I’ll fall asleep in five minutes. Less than five minutes. You think it’s possible to sleep while you walk?

—It’s called sleepwalking.

—But sleepwalkers normally start out lying down. I’m asking: Do you think it’s possible to fall asleep
while
you’re walking?

—I think I’ve read about soldiers doing it. Like during the Civil War and the American Revolution and stuff.

—I wish I could do it.

—Try it.

Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk.

—It hurts too much to fall asleep.

—You have to get past that.

—Then let me rest.

—No.

—Please, Robert. Please!

—Stop it.

—Please! Just five minutes!

—No. We have to keep going.

—Please! I’m begging you! I’ll do anything!

—Fine. Rest if you wanna.

—All right … Wait. Where are you going?

—I told you. It’s a bad idea.

—You’re gonna leave me if I stop to rest?

—Yeah. I’m not resting. I’m walking. I’m walking all night. Then I’m gonna sleep all day. Then I’m gonna walk all night again.

—Aren’t you sore?

—It doesn’t make any difference. The trip only gets longer if I stop and rest. I don’t have any less steps to take.

—But what about enjoyment? What about fun? I thought this trip was gonna be fun.

—What did you think would be fun about it?

—Being out in the wild. With you.

—That’s exactly what you got.

—I just didn’t think I’d be so tired.

—We just started. In a couple more days you’ll be used to it. Then it’ll be fun again.

—I’m hungry.

—We’ll eat when we stop.

—What are we gonna eat tonight?

—I think we have one more can of sardines. But tomorrow we’re gonna have to find some more food. And that fifty-dollar bill is just change now.

—You know what I want? Sugar cereal in cold milk.

—Yeah. I can imagine it perfectly.

—Next time we shoplift, let’s get that.

—We can try. It just depends on what kind of store it is and where the cameras are and all that.

—Please.

—I said we could try.

—No. I want to stop for ten seconds.

—You can stop if you wanna. I’m not gonna stop until it’s time to go to sleep.

—I’m gonna stop for ten seconds and just relax and listen to everything and take it in then I’ll run to catch up with you.

—All right, but I’m not coming back for you.

—All right.










—Wait. Wait up. I’m coming. I’m coming. Wait. Slow down. You’re not walking the same pace. You’re walking faster. Slow down.

—How was it?

—It was awesome.

—What did you hear?

—The stars. They make a whirring sound. Like they’re spinning in their sockets. And you can hear the highway over there. You can hear the tires smoothing out the pavement. Eventually the whole thing is gonna
be smooth, like a long strip of polished black marble. And there’s a cloud that’s following us. It’s asking questions at all the places we’ve been. It’s asking the tree how long we slept under it. And it’s asking the creek how long we drank from it. And it’s asking the bush how long ago we shat in it. I heard a dog bark. It was barking at the cloud. Telling the cloud to leave us alone.

—That sounds pretty awesome.

—You can do it, too. Whenever you want.

—Just ten seconds. Then we keep walking again.

—Just ten seconds.

—This isn’t some trick you’re trying to get me to stop ’cause you think if you can get me to stop I’ll stay stopped and wait for you—’cause I won’t.

—Just ten seconds.

—All right.











Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk.

—So?

—What?

—What did you think?

—I thought it was beautiful. We’re in a beautiful place. The night covering everything as far as we can see. And you breathing. I could hear you smiling by the way that you were breathing. Just ten seconds. Finding a way to capture ten seconds of our lives. Knowing it was all about to end. And then we’d keep walking together through the rest of the night.

—Yeah.

76
Detective Raphael interviews the man who was found in Donald’s car
.

—How many days ago did they give you the car?

—I dunno. What day is it today?

—It’s the twenty-eighth.

—No, I mean, what day of the week is it? I don’t know any numbers.

—Do you know what month it is?

—Yeah.

—It’s Wednesday, the twenty-eighth.

—Then this was Sunday. Night.

—Sunday night or Monday morning?

—Yeah, those two are the same. One turns into the other.

—And you didn’t give those young men anything in return?

—What do I have to give?

—They didn’t wanna get high? They didn’t ask you to go buy beer for them? Anything like that?

—Nope.

—Why are two boys gonna walk up and hand you the keys to a perfectly good Honda?

—It wasn’t theirs.

—You should be a cop. Go undercover. We’ll get you a badge and a
gun. You can be like the first homeless-man cop. ’Cause that’s fucking brilliant. “It wasn’t theirs.” No shit, Sherlock.

—I thought maybe they’d done something bad with it. Like hit somebody and they wanted me to be in the car so they could say I’d done it.

—Why did you think that?

—Because of what you said. Why are two boys gonna walk up and hand me a car?

—Did they say anything about an accident?

—No.

—Did they seem nervous or panicked?

—No more than the situation called for.

—So you decided to go ahead and take the car?

—Yeah. The kid was good. The older kid. He said he would just give it to someone else.

—And you didn’t want to miss out on that kind of deal.

—No, sir.

—What did he look like?

—The older kid.

—Yeah. That’s who we’re talking about. Unless you feel more comfortable talking about the little kid and working your way up? Is that the way you normally do things in your precinct?

—They were both pretty close to the same height.

—Yeah?

—Yeah, but you’re right. The older kid was just a little bit taller. Maybe my height.

—How tall are you?

—Five-nine.

—And what color would you say your eyes are?

—They’re hazel.

—Oh, hazel. That’s nice. And would you say this older kid’s eyes were darker or lighter than yours? ’Cause if we’re gonna base everything off the standard which you set for humanity, I’m gonna have to get to know a lot more about you. We might have to keep you for a while and study you.

—He wasn’t nervous.

—What do you mean?

—I still get nervous when I try to talk to other people. If I’m panhandling. Or if I’m walking up to a group of hoboes I don’t know.

—“Hoboes” is nice. Is that what you call one another? It’s very mid-century.

BOOK: Rules for Werewolves
12.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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