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“I just do, George, so let me talk now and don’t interrupt. Next, if you have any money, buy stock in a company called SeeReal—”

“Cereal?”

“No, see—real. Like see with your eyes, and real like genuine. The two words go together as one: SeeReal. The ticker abbreviation for it is S-E-E-R. Buy stock in that company as soon as you can and buy a lot.” I tried hard to remember what else Old Floon had told me earlier in the library but I couldn’t think of anything. Only later did I recall “tancretic spredge” and cold fusion but by then the men were long gone in the direction of their next thirty years.

“What are we going to do, Frannie?” George held Chuck on his lap. Even that goofy dog must have sensed something serious was going on because it wasn’t hopping around as usual, trying to kiss everyone.

“We’re going to my house to get a shovel. Then we’ll go to the woods out behind the Tyndall place and bury the body. Unless you have a better plan.”

“Someone could find it. Those woods aren’t that large.”

“True, George, but the alternative is to drive around until we run out of gas trying to decide what else to do with our body. Then we can tank up at CITGO, hope no one sees what we’re carrying in the back, and then drive around some more. Does that sound like a better plan, or do you have another in mind?”

Silence.

“All right. I say we go with my plan, hope our luck holds and no one sees us.”

“Why are you even doing this, Frannie? If we’re caught they’ll put us in prison. We’ll all be in terrible trouble. You’re the chief of police!”

“He is?” Floon gulped, his voice climbing way up.

“I’m doing it because I have no time left, George. That’s the only thing I know for sure now. We have to get him out of here without anyone knowing what just happened. Please don’t ask me to explain it—that’s just the way it is. I have no time left to worry about what else to do with this body. We gotta dump it, and Floon’s gotta get out of here. I may be wrong but I gotta go with that instinct. There are other things way more important.”

“More important than this, Frannie?”

“Much more, believe me.”

The backseaters looked at each other.

“Floon, why were you at George’s house just now?”

“Because I have invented something and I need the best person in the business to write the instructions.”

I slapped the steering wheel for emphasis while keeping eye contact with George in the mirror. “You mean he came to you out of the blue today, this morning, to ask if you’d work with him?”

“Not exactly. He called yesterday to say he was in New York and asked if we could meet.”

“That’s still too much of a coincidence. This whole thing ain’t no fluke.” “What isn’t?” “It can’t be a coincidence that Mr. Floon here was visiting you today at the same time as I came to the house with him. I hitchhiked a thumb over my shoulder, assuming everyone knew who I was talking about.

A flame of pain seared across the inside of my forehead forcing me to squint my eyes almost closed. It shot to the back of my head where, for an excruciating few seconds, it flickered on and off like a blazing neon sign. It stopped. But I realized I had better not drive anymore because if another big one hit there was a good chance I would drive this snazzy new car right into someone’s living room and solve all our problems.

When I pulled up in front of our house, loud music was coming from an open window upstairs. Pauline’s room. I wondered if George had brought her home from the hospital before meeting with Floon. Despite everything I had to smile. A yellow and green summery day. Loud techno music pouring out of a teenager’s bedroom. What could be more normal and reassuring than that scene? Her mother was in the hospital but she would be all right now. There was nothing to worry about. Magda would be home soon.

I stood on the sidewalk looking at our house, loving what I saw. I knew I must get moving but give me one more minute to look and remember, just one more. How happy I’d been here. How much I would have given to spend the rest of my life knowing these women day to day, getting older, watching Pauline grow up and into a valid and interesting life of her own. Maybe if I’d had more time I would have been able to figure out a little of what made my own life tick. Maybe not, but it wouldn’t have even mattered so long as I could live it here, around these people, in this town I loved. No matter what was about to happen to me, I had no reason to complain.

I was tempted to run upstairs and check on Pauline to see how she was doing, reassure her that everything was going to be fine now. But there was no time. Nor did I want her to see Floon’s car and ask questions about what was going on.

Instead I went to the garage to look for the shovel. My car was parked in there, which reminded me of finding the resurrected Old Vertue in its trunk the other night. Which reminded me of having that nice chat with Pauline in the car about what she wanted to do with her life. On and on, everything in that dusty place reminding me of something else, and my nostalgia for my flickering life grew even keener.

I searched the crowded garage for the tool I had already used to bury both my father and a four-hundred-year-old dog (twice). I discovered it leaning next to a rake against a far wall. Next to it was a window that gave a view of the street. Reaching for the shovel I glanced out the window and saw a police car coming up the street. It stopped almost directly across from Floon’s car.

Of course the cops would eventually show up here when they discovered I wasn’t being held captive at the town library (by a man who had just been killed by himself and whose corpse was lying in that car directly across the street from them). The situation was so surreal that it should have been funny but it was way too late for that.

Adele Kastberg and Brett Rudin got out of the police car. That was good to see because both of them were dimwits. I would have been much more concerned if Bill Pegg had showed up now at my door. These two cops walked up our path, but at a certain point I lost sight of them because of my limited view. The doorbell chimed its familiar ding-dong. Unconsciously I found myself mimicking those sounds quietly—ding-dong—just so I could hear them another time and memorize a little more of what would be gone soon. All three of us waited for someone to answer the door. When no one came they rang it again. Pauline had her music cranked way up. I could hear it through the walls of the garage. Could she hear the ring behind that wall of sound in her room? I closed my eyes and willed her to come answer the door. In the middle of that willing, I heard a car engine start. Opening my eyes, I caught sight of the tail end of Floon’s car slowly driving away down the street.

“Where the hell are they going? You gotta to be shitting me!” I bit my hand. It hurt, but I had to do something to vent my frustration.

Two stupid cops stood on my doorstep, effectively trapping me in my own damned garage. And even if I was able to escape, what was I supposed to do now that the car with the evidence had just taken off? Where were they going? What did they think they were doing? In truth I knew exactly what they were doing and it made total sense—they wanted to get out of there because they carried a body in their car. But what the hell was I supposed to do in the meantime—wait there with the shovel until either they decided to come back or my head popped?

Luckily a little police muscle went into action. Knowing Officer Adele and her diplomatic manner, she was probably the one who started banging on the front door so loudly that they could have heard the sound down the block. That was Adele’s way of doing police work, but for the first time in all the years we had worked together I was happy for it.

The Isuzu disappeared completely from view just as the music in the house stopped. Some more time passed but then there was Pauline’s voice, joined by the others. I was so relieved that I stuck out my tongue and crossed my eyes. The three of them spoke a while, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Then came the sound of the front door closing. I assumed they had all gone into the house. Which meant I had very little time to escape before they came out again. I looked around the garage for anything beside the too-loud and obvious car that could get me away from there fast and silently.