I ran my errands and picked up some dinner on the way back. \u00a0It was around the end of rush hour. \u00a0If I really believed in movie zombies, I would have been scared the way the wafting smell of french fries seemed to grab the attention of the other people on the bus. \u00a0After a day of work anyone might look a bit wan and glazed, like a sad diet doughnut. \u00a0Several people noted how good they smelled, and I just drew the bag closer to me. \u00a0I was getting a little nervous that either I would be mobbed if I actually started eating them, or that they would be cold by the time the bus lurched to my stop. \u00a0(And lurch it did; isn’t the rule that the lazy late driver gets the old, decrepit bus?)<\/p>\n
Once I decided that the people on the bus were not going to start shambling off after me, moaning, “FRiiiiiiiieeeees,” I had too much time to think while I walked. \u00a0At least I had salty, oily, carbohydrate goodness to fuel me.<\/p>\n
I was thinking about Rohana. \u00a0I was feeling strangely conflicted. \u00a0Half of me felt good, I mean, really good, like I should skip and dance and music from an old musical would swell up behind me and I’d grow a hat and a cane and, well, you know the rest. \u00a0Half of me was cautious and concerned because I didn’t really know a lot about her. \u00a0Did she have a dog? \u00a0A boyfriend? \u00a0A skeleton or something grisly in her closet? \u00a0She said she wasn’t a witch, but she was aware of them. \u00a0She knew Maggie.<\/p>\n
Maggie. \u00a0The piece in the puzzle I kept trying not to think about, because I didn’t want to think her capable of making a simulacrum. \u00a0I didn’t want to be dragged into her war, and yet, I knew, I knew in a way that was impossible to clear from cynicism, that she still wanted something from me.<\/p>\n
I was worried about Rohana, really. \u00a0I decided that as I came through the door, put my keys in my octopus cup, left my bag of hamburgers and processed poultry parts on the table and went to the bathroom. \u00a0The last block had been less dancing and Broadway and more this last little piggy.<\/p>\n
Ahem.<\/p>\n
Once my business was done, I sat and ate, only half-watching some things I’d saved on the recorder. \u00a0I really only watch things that have been recommended to me, but there were some neat stories out there. \u00a0Alas, the best of them always seemed short lived, but that could have been part of the appeal; a show past its time was always a sad thing.<\/p>\n
I washed up some as I hate that hour-after-cheeseburger feeling. \u00a0Brushed my teeth, and parked myself in front of the tube for a while. \u00a0I felt myself getting pretty sleepy and so set my alarm so that I’d catch up with Ed around midnight, if only to yank his chain a little.<\/p>\n
I slept through it, of course, deep \u00a0in uneasy dreams. \u00a0Something moon-like was chasing me, but only enough to get my adrenaline to pump and keep me uneasy. \u00a0It was playing with me, silver-white in the darkness, fast, fleet of foot.<\/p>\n
I picked up the phone in a kind of automatic motion, without looking to see who it was. “Yuh?” I asked, sounding extremely insightful and witty.<\/p>\n
“E. \u00a0I… didn’t think there’d be so much blood.”<\/p>\n
“What?” Awakefulness was forced upon me like a deluge of water from a bucket. \u00a0It was less like when Maggie would snap sobriety into me, which I would rather describe as a forceful joining of my drunk and undrunk selves with the alcohol squished out of me, and more like jumping into a puddle and finding it was the Marianas Trench. \u00a0“Ed. \u00a0Ed, what happened?” He sounded weak and tinny over the connection, which, by the way, got excellent freakin’ signal.<\/p>\n
“You were right.”<\/p>\n
You know, usually I love to hear those words. \u00a0Those words are sweet, sweet words of vindication, an aperitif that led to a full course of redemption. \u00a0Somehow they were tasting of dust and clay, and old feathers, like the underworld in the Epic of Gilgamesh.<\/p>\n
“You were right, E. \u00a0She attacked me. \u00a0I just… I…”<\/p>\n
“Talk to me, Ed. \u00a0Use your words.” \u00a0I bit my tongue. \u00a0“What do you need? \u00a0Where are you?”<\/p>\n
“I’m…” he wandered off for a moment, but just before I said something else, he gave me a street name I didn’t recognize. \u00a0“It’s a cul-de-sac off of,” and I remembered that as not too far from his mom’s house. \u00a0“I’m… I’m covered with blood.”<\/p>\n
“OK. \u00a0You need help. \u00a0You need a new set of clothes. \u00a0It’s,” I looked at the clock above the television. \u00a0“It’s at least an hour before dawn. \u00a0Is she dead?”<\/p>\n
“I…”<\/p>\n
“Topor, it’s called. \u00a0You did a good job, pinning at least part of her heart, right? \u00a0None of that ‘Vampire with Brooklyn’ business?” I asked. \u00a0“What kind of stake?” \u00a0I fumbled for my keys, and slid into my shoes.<\/p>\n
“That’s… that’s why I called, E.”<\/p>\n
“It doesn’t really matter. \u00a0Oh,” I swore. \u00a0“I don’t have a car. \u00a0OK. \u00a0I’ve got to…” I tried to think of the people I could call for a ride. \u00a0The list didn’t quite begin and end with Ed, but once you took Maggie off the list, it was disturbingly short.<\/p>\n
I’d have to call my sister.<\/p>\n
“No, it does matter. \u00a0I didn’t do it, exactly.”<\/p>\n
“Hey, this isn’t a court of law. \u00a0It’s absolutely self-defense, but there’s things we have to do. \u00a0I’ll have to let you go. \u00a0There’s a lot of calls I have to make. \u00a0Can you walk to your mom’s?”<\/p>\n
“No, I mean… \u00a0Something else did it.”<\/p>\n
“Wait, uh, what?”<\/p>\n
“E. Promise you won’t laugh.”<\/p>\n
I took a deep breath. \u00a0“Ed, after everything we’ve been through together, that’s one promise I can’t really make. \u00a0Hit me.”<\/p>\n
“It was a unicorn.”<\/p>\n
I almost laughed. \u00a0I exhaled a wheezy little squeaky thing and then caught my breath. \u00a0“A unicorn?”<\/p>\n
“Yeah. \u00a0And it mentioned your name.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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