The Cranberry Hush: A Novel by Ben Monopoli Read Free Book Online

days after New Year’s I left for lunch and just never
went back.”
    “Wow. And what now? Just living off your inheritance?”
    “Not even. The interest.” He paused and seemed to be
watching me for a reaction, to see if I approved. I wondered how much crap he’d
taken from Beth about this, quitting his job and stuff.
    “That’s awesome,” I said, and he smiled.
    “I’ve got it all in this high-yield savings account thing,”
he went on. “I’m making more in interest than I did at the firm. Life is
fucking bliss.”

 
    When we were putting on our jackets he realized he
didn’t have his phone. He looked around under the table and said, “I hope it’s
in the car.”
    But it wasn’t, so we drove back across to Golden Age to
check there. Waiting to make the turn into the parking lot, I let a minivan
pass. The driver’s teeth were clenched and his hands squeezed the wheel at a
perfect ten-and-two. He looked like someone I’d once towed out of a ditch.
    A plow had gone up Main Street while we were in Dunkin’
Donuts. I sped up to make it over the crest of snow at the edge of the lot. The
lot had been plowed a few hours ago; now, in addition to my first set of tire
tracks, there was a second set in the half-inch snow. I didn’t recognize the
car that had made them. It was parked at the back of the lot, a pick-up. Blue,
maybe black—I couldn’t tell in the dark. I pulled into a spot in front.
We got out.
    “Looks like company,” said Griff, pointing to footprints
that ran up the walk amongst the ones we’d left.
    “Tooth emergency, maybe?” I said. But when I looked up, the
second-floor windows were dark. “Probably Simon,” I added when it became clear
the new tracks led to Golden Age. Doubtful, but it was my only explanation.
    The lights in the store were off and through the glass door,
between the sign that said CLOSED and the edge of a Green Lantern poster, I saw movement at the register. My pulse
quickened and my tongue tasted suddenly sickly. I had my keys clenched in my
fingers, ready to use as a weapon.
    “Under the register counter there’s a phone,” I told Griff.
“If I get taken down, go for it.”
    “OK, dude,” he said, patting my shoulder.
    “I’m serious.”
    “Oh... You know, maybe we should just find a payphone and
call the—”
    “Fuck that—it’s my store.” I unlocked the door,
careful not to rattle the keys too much, and swung it open.
    The bell jingled. There was a bump, a gasp at the register.
Two men. Light from the floodlight behind me illuminated a bare ass. Jeans were
yanked up over it. The second man jumped off the counter clutching at his own
jeans. Beside me, Griff stifled a nervous laugh. Someone else yelled fuck . I recognized the voice.
    I flipped the row of switches by the door. The fluorescents
blinked on. The man, the one who’d been standing, or maybe he’d been on his
knees, spun around and threw his hands in the air. The other—
    “Zane!”
    “What the hell are you doing!” There was a zoot sound as he zipped his fly, and now
he was fumbling with his belt buckle.
    “What the fuck, Zane!” I pulled the keys out of the lock. I
was shivering—no, shaking. My face grew warm. “You,” I pointed at the other
guy—a kid really, jockish, crew cut; his hands were still up, his eyes
wide—“you wait outside. Griff, give me a minute please?”
    The kid looked at me and then at Griff. “You won’t tell
anyone, will you?” His voice was deep but quivered.
    “Not if you cooperate,” Griff said, a little bit
theatrically, and shut the door behind them as they went out.
    I put my hands over my face and sighed. “I refuse to be the
one embarrassed about this,” I said.
    Zane clenched his teeth. He wore a white hooded sweatshirt
that accentuated his flushed cheeks. Was he red from what had been going on, I
wondered, or just from getting caught at it? His left ear was pierced with
three small silver hoops; his right ear had two. His eyes were