The Hunt Chronicles: Volume 1 (16 page)

BOOK: The Hunt Chronicles: Volume 1
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“Please excuse me
for a moment,” she announced as she walked out briskly.  The others
continued to laugh.  Arnold joined in after looking across the table at me
and shrugging his shoulders.

 

Altogether, it was
an enjoyable evening.  Arnold regaled us with tales of his life
experiences and had us all splitting at the sides throughout.  Even Ms.
Scribbs
seemed to loosen up after her return from what I
assumed was a trip to the powder room.  Over dessert, Arnold entertained
us all with his impression of stuttering Mayor Douglas Ruskin. 
“Congratulations A-A-
Arn
-Arnold!” He blubbered as we
all held our stomachs in pain.  “We’ll m-m-ma-ma-miss you around
h-h-he-here, old
ba
-
ba
-
ba
-boy!”

Leon and the others
shared some great stories as well.  Even the large mass known as Dennis
Trago
had a few good yarns to spin in between his trips to
his boss’s glass to freshen his drinks. 
Sycophantic
walrus.
  Carol
Sykora
told us of a
time when she walked into Arnold’s office to find him in only two pieces of a
three-piece suit.  “I spilled coffee on my pants,” Arnold tried to
explain.

“Sure you did,
Arnie!” She screamed, slapping him on the back.  His face turned red and
embarrassed as tears streamed down his smiling face.

As with all good
things, the evening eventually ended in an assortment of tears, laughter and
pats on backs.  Ida
Scribbs
left first, followed
by Dennis
Trago
and Emily
Sellars
shortly thereafter.  Dolores
Tilson
left with
Carol
Sykora
, who hugged Arnold a total of five times
before she finally reached the door.

“I can’t thank you
enough for coming,” Arnold said as he shook my hand next to the fountain. 
“I can see why Leon holds you in such high regard.”

“Thank you for inviting
me,” I replied, “and thank you for what you’ve done here.  Public servants
are probably the least appreciated class of people on the planet, but I think
what you’ve done for this community is great.  Even Ms.
Scribbs
seemed impressed.”  I leaned in closer with
eyebrows raised. 

Very
impressed.”

“Got

em
!”
 
Leon blurted as he came forward, holding out my blazer in one hand with his in
the other.

“Why don’t you go
warm up the car for your guest,
Leon.
  I’ll see
him out.”  Leon seemed confused, as was I, but as usual he followed orders
without question.  He shook Arnold’s hand, told him he would see him on
Monday, and he headed for the door.  “Come with me, Reevan,” Arnold said,
starting to walk back towards his office.

 

Arnold stepped into
his office and began removing the blue sweater he had put on earlier in the
evening.  “I feel the need to apologize to you,” he said flatly.

“What?  Why?”

“For what you saw
tonight, and heard.”

“You mean Ida?” I
asked.  I began to pace around Arnold’s office as I spoke.  “I didn’t
mean to imply-“

“No, no.  I
mean Emily.”

“Oh,” I proclaimed,
having just remembered the confrontation and finger wagging I had witnessed
between them earlier, at the entrance to the Animal Sciences room.  I had wandered
closer to Arnold’s desk, tapping my fingers on the back of the leather guest
chair I was sitting in earlier.  I suddenly felt awkward, and my eyes
darted around Arnold’s office for something on which to focus.  On
Arnold’s desk, the golden giraffe continued to study the photograph of the
young man on the back of the elephant, just as surprised by this topic of
conversation as I was but hiding it much better.  I had pushed the empty
dessert cart back into Arnold’s office during the cleanup.  It was parked
off to the right where I left it, looking cold and sterile.   “What
about Emily?”  Arnold was staring at me.  He had swapped the blue
sweater for the black overcoat on the coat rack.  He opened the door to
his office, indicating he was ready to leave.  I stared at the floor as we
walked through the great room in silence.

 

Arnold finally spoke
when we reached the entrance doors.  “Ida
Scribbs
isn’t
very impressed
with anything I’ve done.  She hates my guts.”

“Really?”
I said with surprise.  “Why?”

“We’ve been rivals,
her and I; rivals for so long.  Since the beginning, you could say.” 
I was puzzled, and he picked up on that.  “She applied for my job when I
did,” he said, and I immediately understood.

“Oh, I see. 
You got the job here, she moved on to the
Boyhan
Science Center, and you’ve had a professional rivalry ever since?”  He
nodded, opening the door for me. 

“I do consider
myself lucky,” he continued.  “She was already the Curator of another
museum when she applied for this job, and I was a humble department head like
the others, but I got it anyway, and here we are.”

 “Wait, I don’t
understand,” I said, stopping in my tracks.  “You did invite her tonight,
didn’t you?”

“Yes, but I never
thought she would come.”

“So why bother
inviting her at all?”

“My departed wife
Janet once said that the best
way
to defeat those that
oppose you are to succeed despite their efforts.  Part of me wanted her
here, I guess.  Wanted her here to see what I’ve done despite her
malevolent attempts to undermine my museum with hers, which is more like an
amusement park than an actual a facility of education and culture

Does
this make me a pompous ass, Reevan?  Be honest.”  I stood there, half
in the night air, half in the light of the great room, staring at this old man who
had dedicated a large piece of his life to the betterment of a community, and I
gave him an honest answer.

“I don’t think it
makes you a pompous ass, Arnold.  I think it makes you human.” 
Arnold looked up at me through those glasses as he did when we first met only
hours before.  I turned my head to the heavens and shut my eyes, digging
deep into the recesses of my Educator Lobes.  “
I would enjoy
experiencing the hollowness of success at first-hand.” 
I opened my
eyes and looked back down at the old man, who said nothing. 
  “Mason Cooley,” I said with a smile.  Arnold smiled and stuck
out his hand.  I shook it, feeling quite pleased with myself.

“Thank you,” he
said.  I nodded and turned away, but then turned back.

“Oh, wasn’t there
something about Emily you wanted to say?”

“On second thought,”
he said, “I’ll leave it up to her.”  Leon honked the horn from his car.

“Oh, Arnold, look…”
I said, pointing behind him.  He turned, and I walked closer to him. 
“Is your office supposed to be open?”  Arnold turned and peered across the
room, then breathed a deep breath and moaned.

“Damn it,” he said.

“Do you want me to
wait?” I asked.

“No, no, Leon’s
waiting.  I’ll lock up.  Thanks again.”  I patted him on the
shoulder.  I started walking down towards the car, turning once to see
Arnold standing at the door waving at me.  Leon honked the horn with two
quick honks, and Arnold turned to go back inside the museum, shutting the large
door behind him.

I got into the car
and Leon and headed for the road.  “Eleven o’clock?”  I said.  “
Geeze
, how did that happen?”

“Time flies when
you’re having fun,” Leon said.

“Well that explains
it,” I replied.  “I could have sworn it was at least one a.m.”  Leon
turned to me,
then
turned back to the road.  We
laughed the entire way home.

 

Niki was waiting by
the door for me when I got home.  She didn’t wait every time; only when I
went out to eat, and she must have heard me say the word
party
at some
point Friday morning because there she was Friday night, sitting in the foyer.

I reached into my
coat pocket and pulled out a rolled up napkin.  Niki stood up on all fours
and licked her chops.  The napkin revealed some bits of bologna and ham I
had swiped from the party.  I tossed them in her direction.  She
caught several in mid-air and slurped up the rest from the floor.  I took
off my blazer and threw it over the arm of the sofa as she waddled into the
living room and plopped down in her usual spot next to my armchair.

I sat, leaned over
the arm and scratched her behind the ears.  “Old girl…” I said to
her.  “You’re a creature of habit.”  Then I turned on the television
and fell
asleep
watching
Law & Order
.

 

I woke up the next
morning to a loud pounding on my front door.  My first assumption was that
the local papers were so desperate for a story that they were beating down my
door at the crack of dawn in an attempt to snap a shot of me in my underwear.

That was it.  I
had had enough.  Partly in surprise and partly and rage, I stampeded to
the front door, still in the clothes I was wearing the night before.  I
reached for the doorknob but stopped to listen to voices on the other
side.  I was still too groggy to make them out, but there was definitely
more than a few out there.  In my cantankerous morning rage I unlocked the
front door and pulled it open without even bothering to use the peephole or the
kitchen window to survey the situation.  Looking back, that was probably a
mistake.

I yanked the door
open and came face to face with a giant ball of light.  The voices I had
heard before now seemed to triple in volume and came from all around me. 
There was the familiar whizzing and clicking of cameras.  People were
shouting my name, lots and lots of people.  They were all asking me
questions, asking me to comment, asking me to say a few words, but it was all
an audiovisual blur to me.  My rage had vanished and I was instantly left
with a feeling of regret for ever opening the door.  The regret turned to
fear as a booming voice in front of me bellowed “Get back, now!  I mean
it!” 
That’s Myron
my little voice screamed over the echoes in
between my ears.

“Myron?”  I
said aloud.  I felt two large hands grab my shoulders and shove me
backwards against the far wall in the foyer.  Niki was barking somewhere
off to my right.

“Get inside,
Professor!” The voice boomed again.  He let me go, and I heard the front
door close.  The big hands returned to my shoulders, but held me gently
this time.  “Are you alright?”

“Myron?  I’m
seeing spots.  Is that you?”

“Just relax and take
a breath; you’re fine.”  I took a deep breath and rubbed the spots and
sleepiness from my eyes.  I opened them and stared right at a sheriff’s
badge reading SHERIFF TUTTLE.  I tilted my head up to meet the eyes of the
largest man in Pendleton, who was also the largest student I ever had.

“What the hell was
that?” I asked angrily.  “Where’s Niki? 
Niki!”
I called, and a sloppy tongue licked my right hand.  I turned to
her.  “Where the hell were you?”  I snapped, and the licking
stopped.  Myron laughed and walked into the kitchen.  He turned to me
and pulled the window blinds up.

“Don’t yell at her,
Professor,” he said.  “No guard dog can face that.”  He pointed out
the window, and all of a sudden more flashes, this time filling the kitchen. 
I stayed back a bit, leaning over to peer out the window.  A sea of news
vans and TV reporters covered the street, surrounding the lonely police car in
the middle of the road.  Reporters came right up to the window and started
snapping pictures through the glass like I was a new panda at the zoo.  I
stepped back and Myron dropped the blinds back in place, darkening the room
again.  I looked up at him again with an open mouth and wide eyes.

“What’s going on?” I
asked him.  “Those news vans were from out of town, weren’t they?” 
Myron nodded.  “Why are they here?  The big stations stopped caring
about me days ago.  Only the local losers still find me interesting.”

“Your life just got
a lot more interesting, Professor,” Myron said, walking past me and into the
living room.  Niki and I followed.  I turned off the television and
headed for my chair, then sat in it and kept silent for a few moments. 

“What now, Myron?”
 I finally asked, terrified at the answer.  “What do they want with
me now?”  Myron didn’t answer right away.  He took a deep breath and
held it a few seconds, then spoke very slowly as he let it out.

“They want to know
if you can tell them who killed Arnold Medley last night.”

 

“I still can’t
believe this,” I said, handing Myron a cup of coffee.  “He was fine when
we left last night.  I only met him yesterday, but he seemed like a decent
guy.  Who would do such a thing?  Leon must be in pieces.”

“Mr. Kinney didn’t
take the news well.  I tried to get his statement, but he was too upset to
talk.  He’ll be coming down to the station later.  It’s the same
story with the others.”

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