“There? It’s right under that tree. There will be roots everywhere.”
“Pick up the fucking shovel and dig here, Floon. Or I’ll stick it up your ass, blade first.”
“But, Frannie, he’s right. The roots—”
“George, remember Antonya Corando’s notebooks? Remember the two images you said kept coming up over and over?”
Sucking in his lower lip, he raised a hand to make a point. Like he was raising it in class to be recognized by the teacher. But his hand slowed going up as the understanding of what I’d said hit home. His hand abruptly snatched at the air and turned into a tight fist. “The lizard and the shovel!” “Exactly. Start digging. Right here.”
“Yes!” He whipped around to Floon who was now looking at both of us as if we were the enemy. “It’s here, Caz. Frannie’s right—this is where we have to dig.”
“I’ll start! Let me.” The kid cried out happily, picking up the shovel but dropping it again in his excitement. He picked it right up again and began digging like a little machine.
“No, we’ll do it. It’ll go faster. You just stand back.” I gestured for him to hand over the shovel.
He wouldn’t. He tried putting it behind his back. “No! That’s not fair! I found that lizard. I did. And I found these guys too when you couldn’t. So I should get to dig first.”
I tried to sound reasonable, like a good guy who was only on his side. “My man, we just gotta do this ourselves and as fast as possible. We gotta dig this hole and then get out of here.”
His face tried turning to stone but you know how little kids are—they haven’t learned how to be cool yet. They know passion cold and hot, but not cool. His next voice came out a sob. “That’s not fair! I helped you twice today and you know it! I helped you get out of the library too. I—”
“Give me the goddamned shovel. Now!” I stepped toward him. Whatever was on my face scared him. He held the tool behind his back, but when he saw me coming, he dropped it. Stumbling backward over it, he fell down. His eyes stayed scared on me. There was no more time to waste. I picked up the shovel and turned away from him.
“You’re the pisser! You’re the big fat pisser and you don’t have a penis!” His outrage turned to singsongy taunt. “You don’t have a penis, you don’t have a penis!”
Ignoring the boy, I gave Floon the shovel and pointed out the spot on the ground. I was dizzy and needed to sit down.
“Frannie, watch out—” George’s voice, then something hard hit the back of my knee. It buckled, but I didn’t fall. Turning, I saw the kid running away into the woods.
“He kicked you.”
“Doesn’t matter. Let’s go.”
But it did matter. When we decided it would be better for George and Floon to first go back for the body, I stood alone thinking about the little boy. Where would he go? Would he be coming back?
I felt weak but clearer in my mind than I had all day. Some sort of plan had taken shape: Dig the hole, bury the body, return to town—The snap and click of twigs under their feet announced they were returning. The body in its bag on their shoulders looked smaller.
As if it was still alive and they were concerned for its comfort, they lowered it very gently to the ground. Floon picked up the shovel and began digging. He worked with precise gestures and no wasted effort. The hole grew quickly not least because there was nothing in the way—no roots, boulders, nothing unseen or unexpected. I was sure there wouldn’t be. The lizard had been the X to mark this spot and I knew that the minute I saw it.
When George took over digging he asked if I had ever heard of Kilioa. When I said no he explained it was a mythological creature—one of two lizard women who keep the soul of the deceased imprisoned. By then I didn’t give a damn whether the lizard we’d seen was Kilioa or a normal forest reptile catching a few rays on a sunny day.
“Yes, but lizards have always been very important in world mythology, Frannie. They can symbolize all sorts of profound things.”
“Fascinating, just keep digging—”
“You don’t care do you?”
“Not at all.”
The excavation went on. We talked some but not much. I didn’t feel up to joining in the work yet so I let them do it. Periodically I checked to see if the dead Floon was still with us.
They’d gotten pretty far down when I heard two sirens go by out on the road, one right after the other. It made me crazy not knowing what the reason was. Normally you didn’t have to use the siren in a Crane’s View police car. Assuming the worst, I decided the best thing was to get these two guys out of here now, finish the job myself and go home.
When I told them neither seemed unhappy about stopping. We stood above the hole looking down into it.
“George, I want you to leave town for a while. Just go and don’t come back for maybe a week or two. Have you got money on you?”
“Yes, but where should I go?”
“I don’t know. I want you and Floon here to just disappear for a while. Call me in a few days. I’ll tell you when the coast is clear to come back. I want to clean up every trace of anything we might have left back at your house. I’ll lock it up when I’m done. Who knows if anyone saw what went on back there.”
“Okay.”
Floon said, “We can go to my apartment in New York.”
“No, that’s a bad idea. Go away for a while. Take a road trip, go somewhere neither of you is known. Go to the ocean and talk about Floon’s plans.”
I remembered that hotel room in Vienna and seeing the dog on the bed. Astopel had said it was George Dalemwood. I remembered Susan Ginnety telling me George had simply disappeared from Crane’s View thirty years ago and was never seen again.
“Floon, you go ahead. I need to tell George a few more things.”
When the other was far enough away not to hear, I put both hands on my friend’s shoulders and moved toward him till we were almost nose to nose.
“Frannie, you don’t look good. You look very ill. Let’s finish this and then let me take you home.”
“No, I’m okay. George, listen to me: I know some things about the future. I know that you and Floon are going to work together on something very big. It may take years. Maybe it’s even this project he was telling you about. Do it but be very careful. Watch your ass at all times. Don’t trust him much, no matter how brilliant you think he is.
“Get out of town now and stay gone for a while. I don’t know how things are going to go down around here in the next few days. But I don’t want you anywhere in the vicinity if shit hits the fan. And, George?”
“Yes?” His face was all questions and worry. It broke my heart but there was nothing more I could do about it.
I was about to tell my friend that I loved him but something else came to mind. “Tancretic spredge. Can you remember that name?” I spelled it for him. “Do you know about cold fusion? You do? Great! Then this has something to do with it. And if you can’t find it yet, keep looking because that’s what cold fusion is all about. It’s going to change the world. Tancretic spredge, okay?”
“Okay. When should I call you?”
“In a few days. Wait till things calm down.” I knew he would never be back but I didn’t want to say that and scare him. “Take care of yourself. Take care of Chuck.” I kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a good pal. The best.”
“I’m frightened, Frannie.”
“So am I.”
“You? You’re never frightened of anything.”
“I’m frightened that one day I’m going to lose all this and I won’t have loved it enough. Remember that—love this all the time. Love it for me too when you remember.”
I gave him a slight push and he started away. Chuck danced around his feet, running this way and that; happy to be on the move again with the person he loved most. George turned once. I said only “tancretic spredge.” He repeated it, but by the time he got to the end, he was too far away for me to hear.