Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 125, No. 6. Whole No. 766, June 2005

I turned and ran.

Bobby’s memorial service is tomorrow. Mom told me I have to go, and that I have to wear a dress. I hate wearing dresses. Bobby’d make fun of me, just like I would if he had to wear a suit.

I think Mom wonders why I haven’t cried about Bobby. I should, and I’ll probably force myself to at the service tomorrow. Tears work almost as well as my sweet, innocent face. So I’ll sit there with all of Bobby’s relatives while they talk in a language I can’t understand, and I’ll look all sad like I should.

Maybe Bobby’s piece-of-shit old man will be there. Someday I’m going to play the game with him. He’s the reason Bobby went crazy about the dead hamster, whatever he did to Bobby’s dog. Bobby would still be here if it wasn’t for his old man. I should do something about that.

Bobby was my friend.

Copyright © 2005 by Annie Reed.

Detectiverse

I Miss You by H. U. Gesundheit

translated by Will Ryan

I miss you, I miss you, I really do miss you
Oh, more than I ever could say
More than the sun misses night-blooming jasmine
Or the moon misses noon every day
Hey, I miss you, I miss you, I really do miss you
Oh, more than you ever could know
More than the Dodgers were missed out in Brooklyn
Or Annabel Lee was by Poe
Oh, more than the anchorman misses the point
Or the audience misses the gag
I could tell you “I miss you”
ad infinitum
But it’s not my nature to nag.
Still, I miss you, I miss you, I really do miss you
And, boy, it annoys me because
You duck and you swerve and you dodge every shot
And my aim ain’t as good as it was.