“The girl…the Jane Doe…from the wreck yesterday.”
“She’s cold fish man. Tragic, she was kind of hot.”
Calvin teased him with wide eyes and a mock-shocked expression.
“Dude, you’re a freak — I’d never, you know…” Lenny popped off an obscene gesture. “You’ve got ten minutes. She’s in 14A.”
Calvin nodded and waited for the buzz before opening the doors to the morgue cooler. He wore a light jacket with a flannel shirt underneath, but the air poked through with icy fingers. The chill and a sickly lemon-lime glow to the lights really set Calvin’s fight or flight ticker humming. He had to see the body, look at those eyes again, and exercise the blue-eyed demon.
“14A. Hello, honey, I’m home,” Calvin joked to bolster his own flagging courage. With a quick click and then steady whirr, the drawer slid out. Blue Eyes was there, under the plastic. He peeled back just enough to see her icy face, an unnatural field of frigid grey. Her eyelids swelled a dark indigo in the shadows.
Calvin’s fingers quivered slightly before he touched her eyelids. Pinching one between forefinger and thumb, he pushed up gently, just enough to see the eye. It was lifeless now, drained of the hum and electricity from his photo. Curiosity worked magic in his fingers, and the thumb grew courageous, touching the cold surface of her dead eye. A hum grew around him in the cooler, a whisper that wasn’t quite the sound of the compressor or fans.
He closed his eyes for a moment and jerked from the body, quickly pulling the shroud over the young face and snapping 14A home. Calvin shivered, pulled his jacket around his neck, and hurried from the room. Later, he would remember the touch as a slight buzz — merely a pop of static electricity.
Calvin and Gina sat at the kitchen table that evening, poking at cardboard take-out boxes from The Happy Dragon, a flagging Chinese restaurant in a town where burgers and fries were considered fine cuisine. Gina tried to catch Calvin’s eye, but he avoided her, lost in his own thoughts and cringing at the growing pain in his skull — another headache.
“I interviewed for a couple of positions today. One is with a vet here in town. I thought, maybe, if it works out I could try school again. Finish my bachelor’s at least, then see what happens.”
Calvin glanced over the lid of a container, scratching the back of one hand. “Sounds great.” He winced as he spoke, and his voice was stale. His head throbbed again. “Why are we using spoons?”
Gina frowned. “The forks are dirty. Sorry, I forgot — ”
The phone buzzed, and Calvin sprang from the table before the first ring was a memory.
“Hello.”
“Hi Calvin, this is Maryann Spader. Is Gina around? I can’t seem to get her at her place.” He looked at Gina and mouthed, it’s your mom.
She shook her head.
“Um, she’s not here,” Calvin said, frowning at his girlfriend.
“Could you, um, tell her to call me,” Maryann said on the other end, her voice somewhat thick and slow.
“Alright, I’ll let her know.” Calvin clicked the receiver home and returned to the table. “You haven’t told your folks?”
Gina’s mouth crawled into a little smile. “I…wasn’t ready, yet. I don’t want them to freak.”
Calvin’s knuckles whitened as he clutched his spoon. He closed his eyes, and his neck tensed. “Are you ashamed of me, that it?” he snapped.
Gina recoiled. “No…Calvin.” Her weak smile vanished under a hurt frown. “What’s with you?”
“What’s with me? My live-in is hiding the truth — ”
The phone rang again, truncating his rant. Calvin pushed away from the table, glowering at Gina. He snapped the phone off the cradle. “What?”
“Whoa, ace. What’s up your ass?” Lenny asked on the other end.
Calvin sighed and tucked the receiver on his shoulder. He glanced back at Gina. “Nothing. Nothing. Sorry, just a little domestic squabble.” Gina walked away from the table. “What’s up?”
“Dude, the cops came in this afternoon. Crazy shit, man. They were asking about you.”
Calvin’s face flushed. A tense moment passed. He rubbed his index finger to his thumb and remembered how her eyes felt. “Me? Why?”
“Look, can you meet me later tonight, at the Idle Hour. I don’t feel really comfortable talking about it over the phone. I thought you might like to know.”
“Yeah, how about eight?” Calvin waited. “Twenty bucks work?”
“Great. See you then.”
Calvin stood at the kitchen table for a few moments, looking at the half-empty containers, and trying to remember what happened after he touched the eyes. He remembered the shock, the feeling of electricity, but then what? Calvin held his hands in front of him, examined the fingers, and scraped a bit of black dirt from under one nail. He scooped up the leftovers and stuffed them in the trash. When the kitchen was clean, he found Gina lying on their bed.
“Look, I’m sorry.” He held his head.
She looked up, her eyes puffy and rimmed with red. She nodded.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Really. I understand that you aren’t ready to tell your folks, okay?” He sat down on the edge of the bed, testing the space to see if he was welcome. “Congrats on the interviews, too.”
“I wasn’t ready…I will be, soon. It’s not just you — I haven’t even told them about my job.” Gina held out her hand. “I’m worried about that headache. You never have headaches.”
“No worries. I’ll be fine.” Calvin stretched one arm around her shoulders. “Take your time with your folks. I’m in no hurry.” He bent lower and focused on her brown eyes. “I understand, all right?”
Gina nodded.
“Look, I hate to go…that call was for work. I have something important to do.”
The inside of Idle Hour was covered with at least two generations of Coors Light and Budweiser posters, old enough that some of the women on the posters could easily be Calvin’s mom. A permanent cigarette haze floated in the air despite the public smoking ban two years ago. The building stretched half a city block with billiards tables lined up from front to back and old vinyl bar stools resting against the walls between a few upright arcade machines. A small area in front held a couple of tables for playing cards and the bar.
Calvin looked past the grizzled faces of the middle-aged regulars and saw Lenny at a billiards table under a cracked lamp in the middle of the hall. He was lining up for a shot and nodded toward Calvin as he approached.
“I thought this would be a good place.” Lenny looked at the ceiling, indicating the loud music. “Nobody will overhear us in here.” With a swift thrust, he sent the cue ball into the nine. “Join me?”
Calvin thrust his hands in his pockets and shook his head. “No. I’m terrible.” He slipped a twenty out of his pocket and folded it in his hand. “You’re getting expensive.”
Lenny sidled up to Calvin and snatched the bill. “Yeah, maybe. But this is good. 14-A, you know, Jane Doe or whatever, she was wanted for murder.” He bent to the table again and lined up another shot.
Calvin began to sweat and took off his jacket, tossing it on a chair against the wall. “Maybe I will join you.” He surveyed a collection of house cue sticks on a rack, held up a few, and made a choice.
“Arizona. She was wanted in Arizona. The car was stolen in Wichita. Sedgwick County plates.” He cleared the table, knocking the eight ball in the side. “I’ll rack.”
Calvin’s head swam, and he steadied himself using the cue stick as a crutch. He looked up, past Lenny and spotted Brad, Gina’s old boss, guffawing at the bar. Brad was short, but broad — he hit the local gym every day, mostly to work on his upper body by the look of his scrawny legs.