On the Edge of Twilight: 22 Tales to Follow You Home by Gregory Miller Read Free Book Online Page B

that would have scared me, because he was so upset, and you never know what a person could do when they’re that upset…
    But he stayed on the line. I could hear him gasping.
    “What happened?” I asked again, trying hard to keep calm.
    “Lucy’s dead,” Saul responded, almost in a whisper.
    “Okay, okay, now listen… are you sure she’s dead? I mean, absolutely certain ?”
    “Yes!” he said. “Yes, I’m sure of it! I’ve never been so sure of—”
    That tone was creeping back into his voice, and his voice was rising again, getting louder. So I cut him off.
    “How did it happen?” I asked. I just wanted to get the facts out of him, you see? And to keep him calm. Man, how I kept my voice calm, I’ll never guess. Maybe I didn’t believe it was true. Like I was in shock or denial, you know? It all seemed so crazy.
    “I don’t know how it happened,” Saul said. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know…”
    “But you know she’s dead?” I demanded. “I don’t understand.”
    Then Saul, he just exploded again. “Neither do I! Neither do I!” And then he started shrieking, and he didn’t stop for an awful long time.
    I kept quiet, let him wear himself out, and finally, after a good while, he did. And he didn’t hang up, either, although at one point he dropped the phone. Once he was calm again I asked, “Where is she?”
    “I don’t know!” he wailed. “God, she could be anywhere. Anywhere! I’ve got to get out of here .” That’s what he said: that he had to get out of there. And he should’ve. He should’ve just gotten out and run.
    Again and again I told him to tell me where she was, or where he thought she was. I told him I had to know, he had to tell. That the only way to get to the bottom of things, to make things better, would be to tell me, and that we could take it from there, we could work it all out.
    And over and over, he said he didn’t know. That he didn’t want to know. His exact words? “I don’t know, and I don’t ever want to find out. Hopefully far away.” That’s what he said: “Hopefully far away.” I didn’t understand it. None of it made any sense.
    Then I heard a muffled thumping on his end of the line, like a knocking, and his breath, it hitched in his throat, and then he started breathing real hard, real fast, like he was hyperventilating or having some sort of attack. And finally I heard a sobbing noise. Yeah, it was him. I’m sure of it. And I heard that knocking again, much louder this time. Yeah, like knocking on a door. I asked what was going on, who it was at the door, but he just sobbed one final time, and paused, and said, “I gotta go,” and that’s when he finally hung up. I yelled into the phone, but nothing. He was gone. I called back, over and over, but he didn’t answer. So after 15 minutes more I called you guys, then I jumped in the car and beat it over to his place as fast as I damn well could.
    When I showed up, two cop cars were already there, and three of you guys in uniform were standing around by the door, so I got out and went up to meet them, and they told me to stand back. I remember one started to call out Saul’s name, over and over, louder and louder. The door? Hell, you saw it—splintered apart and ripped half off its hinges, forced open and inward.
    They went inside, and I heard someone say “Shit,” and then another said, “Holy Mary.” That’s when I said the hell with it, I’m going to find out what’s going on, I have to know, and I rushed in past them before they had a chance to stop me. Of course, they weren’t even thinking about me. Their attention was elsewhere.
    And then they brought me here, to answer your questions and tell you what I know. And now I’m done, and I’d really like to go home, if that’s OK.
    …If I have to, I will. But if you’re gonna ask what I think you are, then… yeah, good, please make them quick. Sorry, but… just make them quick.
    Saul was… he was dead, of