Collection by John Rector Read Free Book Online Page B

gravel.   She moves fast, and as she passes me she’s crying.
    I watch her disappear down the road, and I don’t follow her.
    Above me, the sky is a pinwheel of stars.   The sight makes me dizzy, and I slip to the ground and close my eyes.   I can hear the echo of rushing water in the distance.  
    The sound covers me, and when the screaming starts, I barely notice.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    The Walls Around Us
     
     
     
    M orris knew the police wouldn’t come; all he had to do was look out the window.   The storm started that afternoon, and within an hour the woods outside dissolved into a haze of white and were no longer visible from the house.   The radio was reporting road closures all along the western slope and advising people to stay indoors.   He knew, even before he dialed the number, what the police would say, and he was right.   When he set the phone back on the cradle, he told Evelyn the news.
    “Frankly, I’m amazed the lights are still on,” he said.   “Or the phone.”    
    Evelyn stood in front of the tall, arched windows of the living room with her arms across her chest.   She was tapping her fingers on her elbow and staring into the storm.   “Did they say when?” she asked.
    “Tomorrow,” Morris said.   “Maybe the day after.   It all depends.”
    Evelyn turned and looked at him.   “I can’t stay here for two days.”
    “I don’t believe we have a choice.”
    She bit the insides of her cheeks and turned back to the window.   It was getting dark out, but the snow had its own grayish glow that leaked into the room.   “I can’t believe this,” she said.   “Any of it.”
    Morris came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.   She was shaking.   “You holding up?”
    Evelyn looked back and frowned.   “Of course I am,” she said.   “It’s not like that.   Just a bit of a shock.   Can’t blame me, can you?”
    “I suppose not,” he said.  
    She’d been sober fifty-nine days.   The shakes had been gone a while, but holding her now brought back memories of those nights in bed, the damp sheets, and the slick smell of her skin as they struggled to sleep.  
    “So, what are they going to do?” Evelyn said.   She stepped forward and wormed away from him.   “What did they say?  
    “They said if they’d been here this long, they’d be here tomorrow.”   He slid his hands into his pockets.   “They also said they’d probably need to consult a forensic anthropologist before removing them.”
      “Great,” she shook her head.   “What the hell are we supposed to do until then?   Ignore it?”
    “What else can we do?”
    Evelyn walked to the couch and sat down.   She leaned back and put her feet on a box marked ‘Kitchen.’   Morris heard the silverware shift inside.   “I just can’t believe this,” she said, massaging the bridge of her nose.   “I just can’t.”
    Morris sat on the floor across from her and turned on a small table lamp.   He looked around the room.   The house was bigger than anyplace he’d lived before, and he loved its high ceilings and arched doorways.    In the city he’d take long walks through the historic district just to look at these types of homes.   He was fascinated by the architecture and the eclectic influences of the original owners, who’d settled there after making fortunes in the mines.   A few chose not to leave, and they built their homes in the mountains.   These were rare, and he felt lucky to have found one.
    They’d moved in that weekend, and most of the boxes were still stacked against the far wall.   They were all labeled and would eventually be divided and moved, but that was later.   The first priority had been the wine cellar.
    Evelyn said it was symbolic and wanted it torn out before they moved in.   Morris disagreed, but in the end they compromised and decided to do it before they unpacked.   He suggested hiring someone, but