In the restroom, Linda checked herself in the mirror. Her lipstick had faded from the right side of her upper lip, and black mascara crept up towards her eyebrow. Her blush had cracked except for the glow on her nose. The night had been hard on her face; she looked old and tired. She freshened her lipstick, brushed her hair, and killed the shine on her nose. It seemed futile. She would need to check Truly Beautiful for a look that could hold up better.
Linda left the restroom and walked down the long hall to join Sarah in the waiting area. She paused at the end of the hall, dwarfed by the grey partitions that separated the waiting area from the rest of the police station. She could hear voices, several of them, mingling, Sarah's dominant among them.
Linda looked above the partition and saw a small television, muted and pathetic, hanging from the ceiling. The television's color had shifted long ago, and a bald, blue man in a sweater dispensed advice. She thought she might have seen him before. He seemed vaguely familiar. Was his name Richard? She wasn't sure, but he seemed like a Richard to her. Maybe it wasn't advice; he could be warning her about something, some disaster, some great flood.
"Well I know what I'll do if I get the card next," she heard Jerry Miles say.
"Shoot yourself?" asked Freddy Nevers.
"Never mind, I just changed my plan," cackled Jerry.
"Well, if either of you get a card, let me know," said Sarah. "You tend to live a lot longer if you know who has the cards. "
Richard now held a green spray bottle. He was selling something. Of course. Why advise or warn when you can sell. Linda decided to wait until the conversation settled down a little more before joining Sarah. Conversations tended to die once Linda entered into them.
"I never know who has the cards," said Jerry.
"I try to make it my business," said Sarah. "I try to make everything my business. " She spit out the words as if they were rehearsed.
Richard, energetic and passionate now, waved the bottle about in his left hand. He held up a shirt and sprayed it. Linda moved closer to the television, but she couldn't tell if the spray had any effect. Richard sprayed the bottle on the floor and then on himself. He was obviously proud of its versatility. He looked straight at Linda and urged her to buy his product. She needed it. She needed to have what he was selling.
"What about Linda?" asked Jerry.
"I've known Linda for years," said Sarah. "Her husband too. "
"I knew her," said Freddy.
"But not like I knew her, dear. "
Linda hated to interrupt; Sarah seemed to be enjoying herself. She wondered what it would be like to enjoy yourself. Linda continued to watch the commercial, one of those long ones, one of those that could go on for five minutes. Richard had toned down the sell and appeared to be whispering, enunciating every word. He had two bottles now, one cradled under each arm, and he was talking to Linda, directly to Linda, only to Linda.
"Well, she shops at my store," said Jerry. "Buys a lot of makeup. Careful shopper. Always did like her. "
"Sweetheart, you have to like someone who has a red card," said Sarah. "Kind of dangerous not to. "
"How would I have known she had a red card?" asked Jerry.
"I knew," said Sarah.
"You knew she had a red card?"
"Of course she had the card. "
"I suspected, but I was never sure," said a voice Linda didn't recognize. He seemed to be acting more important than he actually was.
"I've known it for years. I'm surprised you all didn't know. " Sarah paused for effect. "Oh, I forgot, you all weren't sleeping with her husband?" the crowd laughed. "Well, I guess I won't have to like her anymore," said Sarah.
Richard made his final plea. Under him flashed a phone number, barely legible, followed by the words,"Miracle Madness, for when clean isn't clean enough. " Linda listened for the conversation to continue, but it had stalled. Even Sarah was silent.
Linda pulled back into the hall, found a phone near the ladies' restroom, and called the toll free number.
"I want to place an order," said Linda.
"Which product?"
"Miracle Madness. "
"Oh, you are going to love it. And with that you get Miracle Madness Plus. "
After Linda had provided her billing information, she joined Sarah and the others in the waiting room. "Sarah," she said as she rounded the partition, "I'm all done now. "
"Wonderful," said Sarah. "You've had a hard day and it's time to get you home. "
When the taxi dropped them off at Linda's place well after midnight, Sarah was in full motion, feeding off the energy of the evening. Linda had been quiet during the drive home, but she didn't need to speak since Sarah had rambled on without stopping. Sarah had pretty well resolved most of Linda's problems. She had told her how to improve her career—after all you can't stay a librarian your entire life. She had told her how to improve her looks—Those bangs just have to go; they do absolutely nothing for you. She had told her how to improve her general disposition—you have got to stop moping about.
Finally Linda asked, "What do I do now?"
"What do you mean?"
"The handbook never talked about this part. I don't know what to do next. "
"Well," said Sarah, "tomorrow we need to plan Mr. Jackson's funeral. I guess that would be next. "
"Of course," said Linda.
"Then we bury him, and then you get on with your life. "
"We need to plan a funeral," said Linda.
"Now don't be afraid to call if you need anything," said Sarah as they entered the house. "Really. Anything at all. "
"Anything?"
"Absolutely. Whatever you need. "
"Can I stay with you?" asked Linda.
"Stay with me?"
Linda nodded.
"At my house?"
"For a while. At least a day or two. Longer if I could. "
"You really need to get back on your feet," said Sarah. "This is your home and it doesn't do any good to run from it. This is your place. "
"My place," said Linda. She stood over the spot where Larry had lain. Now that he was gone, the room seemed much more open, almost cavernous.
Sarah joined her. "Is this it?" she asked.
"He fell right here next to the coffee table," replied Linda.
"They really are quite efficient. the enforcement program is run so well. "
"It is," agreed Linda, noticing that even the blood had been cleaned up. All that remained was a small stain, barely noticeable, no worse than the tea spill on the other side of the room. But Linda would get all the stains out, the blood, the tea, everything. After all, Miracle Madness was on its way.
"I can stay for a bit," said Sarah, turning on the television. She folded onto the couch, pried her shoes off, and clicked through channels looking for the television version of "Phil's Follies. "
"Stay for as long you can," said Linda. "I'll be with you in a moment. After I change. " the lavender dress was beginning to weigh on her.
In her bedroom, Linda slipped off her high heels and set them in her closet. She then pulled off her dress and hung it neatly on a padded hanger. She lay down on her bed, closed her eyes, and folded her hands over her face. She exhaled, bathing her eyes and nose in the warmth of her own breath. She opened her mouth and made a guttural sound that echoed off her cupped hands.
She rolled onto her stomach, grabbed her stuffed cat, Sally, and pulled her close. She wanted to be a cat. No, a ferret, she would rather be a ferret. Linda slid off the bed and crouched on her hands and knees, almost feral. She could sleep here. She could sleep on the carpet once it was clean. That would be soon; Miracle Madness was coming.
"When clean isn't clean enough," she moaned.
Linda reached under the bed and felt around blindly. She pulled out a shoe box adorned with a lavender bow — a beautiful bow she had tied nine months earlier. She loved tying bows and she was proud of this one, bold and perfectly proportioned. Lavender — she loved lavender. Linda untied the bow and carefully slid the ribbon off the box. She opened the box, pulled out a red card and a small revolver, and finally cried for the first time that night.