by Torsten Krol
I got restless because the problem wasn’t solved and got up. While the air is still cool I decided to fill in the hole in the yard before I get tempted to bury Dean in it, which would make me a criminal. It took around fifteen minutes and made a fairly high mound that would take a long time to settle back level, but that could be hid from view by putting the chicken coop over it the way I’m sure Dean planned. So I did that, following his wishes, you might say, dragged the coop over and positioned it over the mound, which got the chickens clucking angry at me for messing with their house, but it worked out fine that way, with the mound out of sight inside which you couldn’t see it except if you lifted the coop aside and looked, and who’s going to do that? Nobody, that’s who. There’s a square patch of scratched-over dirt piled with chicken shit left there where the coop stood till now, but that’s a natural thing that won’t get anyone interested in it, I’m thinking.
So that was done, but I still had to figure what I’ll do with Dean, who is the pesky fly in the soup here. I went in his room and the smell there has gotten a lot worse because Dean has gone and shit himself, don’t ask me how a dead man can do that but he did, so now his room is just awful to be in. What I did, I got a spare sheet from the closet and laid it out on the floor, then drug Dean out from under the bed and rolled him up in the sheet and carried him downstairs and out to the barn just to get that smell gone from the house. I put him up in the hayloft out of harm’s way where no one’s likely to catch a whiff of him and smell a rat. It’s a good thing I already filled in the yard hole or I might have been tempted to put Dean in there just to be rid of that stink he’s making, but there’s no way I’m digging that dirt out again, so he can stay in the barn for just now while I do some more thinking about how I’m going to fix this.
While I was out in the barn I checked the lawnmowing schedule for today and there’s no job penciled in until eleven, which suits the first part of my plan perfect. I took a shower then and put my clothes in the washing machine because I worked up a sweat filling the hole and carrying Dean out to the barn, then I went and phoned Lorraine. I was real hungry by then but it would not look good when she come over to have the house smelling of breakfast when I’m supposed to be in shock and horror about finding Bree down in the freezer. I got the story fixed in my mind, then I called Lorraine’s number right by the phone like she said. The phone rang a few times then her voice says, “Hello?” It’s still only 7.20 so I might have woke her up.
“Hey, Lorraine,” I said, “it’s me.”
“Who?”
“Me, Odell.”
“Odell?”
“Yeah, how’re you?”
“What do you want, Odell?” She sounded grumpy, so I must have woke her.
“Well, I have got good news and bad. Which one do you want first?”
“The bad,” she says, which was a surprise. Most people want the good news first to give them something to fall back on when they get hit by the bad, but it takes all kinds.
“Uh, maybe you should hear the good news first.”
“Whatever.” She still sounded sore.
“Well, this morning I went out on the porch to greet the day and there’s a package there waiting, so I thought maybe that’s the thing you were looking for last night. You said a package, so I’m thinking maybe this is the one.”
“A package?”
“Right outside the door, all taped up.”
“Did you open it?” Her voice was awake now, with an edge to it, so I have got her attention, all right.
“No.”
“Well, don’t. When I get out there I expect to find that package intact. How the hell did it get there?”
“I was thinking about that, and I think someone must’ve left it in the night. I’m a heavy sleeper so maybe that’s when it happened, when I’m asleep, that’s all I can think of how it happened.”
“You put that package somewhere out of sight and leave it there till I come over. I’m coming over there right now.”
“Okay . . .”
Then she went and hung up on me, which shows how agitated she is about the package, not waiting to hear the bad news even. I hung up the phone, thinking to myself it’s clever the way I don’t have to explain about finding the money now and talking to Donnie Darko, which would have opened up a whole new can of worms, as they say. Those early morning plans are generally the best kind.
In around twenty minutes she showed up, wearing her uniform same as last night, and without even saying Good morning or anything she says, “Where is it?”
I brung it out of the kitchen cupboard where I had it stashed and the look on her face says she’s relieved it isn’t opened like she wanted. She turned it over and over a few times, then made me tell the story again about finding it on the porch right next to the screen door. That part she doesn’t like, I could tell, because it’s mysterious and unexplained, which are both things that upset some people. I was not upset because to me there’s nothing mysterious and unexplained about it, just a simple fiberoo to smooth things over.
“I need breakfast,” she said, setting the package down. “Would you mind?”
“Well, there’s a problem about that.”
“What problem? You didn’t eat your way through all the food, did you? The freezer’s got plenty, you said.”
“Well, about that freezer, it’s got a problem. That’s the bad news I told you about but you hung up the phone so fast I didn’t get to tell you about it.”
“If it’s broken, call an electrician, just keep the lid down to keep the cold in.”
“No, it’s working fine, but there’s something in there that’s not frozen food. Okay, it’s frozen, but it isn’t food . . .”
“Odell, you’re making my head ache. What’s wrong with the damn freezer?”
“It’s got Bree in it.”
I watched her face. She’s thinking, Bree in the freezer . . . and then she gets it, only she doesn’t want to.
“Bree . . . ?” her voice was all little and soft like a girl’s, which is a side to Lorraine that I did not see till right now, she has got a softer side, which I liked.
“I went down to get something for breakfast,” I said, following the script careful, “and I’m digging around to find something besides pizza, which isn’t right for breakfast, only lunch and dinner generally, maybe some breakfast sausages and waffles if there’s any there, and that’s when I found her. I don’t know how to say this . . . she’s dead. I’m real sorry.”
She looked at me like I just told her a flying saucer landed on the roof, then she did something very unexpected, which is slap me right in the face very hard, and she is a big woman like I said, so it hurt.
“Don’t you tell me a story like that! Fuck you!”
I didn’t hit her back, of course, she’s a woman in shock so what she did is excusable, but I got ready to block a second slap if there was another one coming my way, which there wasn’t, she just kept on looking at me, reading my eyes to see if it’s the truth I’m telling, which it was, mostly. Then she rushed out of the kitchen and down to the basement to investigate the situation there. I stayed where I am, not wanting to intrude on family grief, which is a very private thing restricted to family members only. Then I heard what I kind of expected, namely a scream, but it was short. Then after awhile she come up again and looked me square in the face. “Did you have anything to do with this?” she asked me, very cold, her mouth all tight.
“No, all I did was find her down there,” I said, the whole truth this time.
“Then it was Dean,” she said, slumping down in a chair and staring at the tabletop. “Oh, God . . . he went and did it . . .He went crazy again and did it . . .” She looked over at me. “When he left, did he have any luggage with him, a suitcase or whatever?”
“No, just the clothes he was wearing, unless he had something in his pockets I couldn’t see.”
“That’d be right,” she says, kind of talking to herself. “He took the money
and . . . then he came back to deliver the package. Oh, Jesus, Dean, why’d you have to go and fuck everything up?”
She was mad at him. I stayed quiet, not knowing which way to jump. Lorraine’s face had gone all pale and her mouth hung open a little, but it wasn’t unattractive like Dean’s had been.
“Do you still want breakfast?”
“No, I do not want breakfast! Just shut up and let me think!”
“Okay.”
I respected her wishes even if my guts were growling by then, just sat quiet on the other side of the table looking at the wall or sometimes the ceiling. Lorraine, she’s away somewhere else, thinking hard about all this. Finally she looks me in the eye and says, “You’re going to have to help me, Odell.”
“Okay.”
“There’s no way I can keep you out of this. You’ve been seen driving his truck around town and mowing his lawns, so you can’t just disappear. Believe me, that’s what I’d prefer, just have you vanish, but that can’t happen now. God almighty, Dean went and did it, went crazy all the way and killed her. She never should’ve let him stay here, the way he was . . .”
Lorraine started in on what a crazy guy Dean was, all fucked up from an early age with no friends that stuck with him in school and a bad record with employment, which is why Aunt Bree set him up with his own small business that prospered okay but behind the smiling lawnmower man there’s someone else, a crazy person waiting to get out. He was into drugs, she said, all kinds, which didn’t help one bit with the crazy part, and him and Bree argued a lot because he wouldn’t turn to Jesus to save himself. Bree was very big on the Lord, all the time watching those late night TV shows, which I already figured out because of Chet and Preacher Bob getting called in to settle the situation, only I couldn’t say that to Lorraine, of course. And on top of everything else she says Dean had a problem about “unresolved sexuality” which means he was kind of gay the way she explained it, only he didn’t want to admit it even to himself.
“Did he make any moves on you?” she asked.
“No . . . except that first night when he woke me up saying he thought he heard someone prowling around, but there was nobody.”
“Then what happened?”
“Well . . . nothing, he went back to bed, only it was strange the way he woke me up, whispering in my ear. It gave me a fright if you want the honest truth. That’s no way to wake someone up unless you want them to get a big surprise, which I did.”
“It figures,” she said. “You’re exactly the kind of guy he was always falling for, big and tall, the exact opposite of Dean. Listen, don’t tell anyone about that part, okay? It’s got nothing to do with what happened here.”
“Okay.”
“Pretty soon I’m going to call the Chief of Police. He’s a personal friend of mine so he’ll go easy, but I’m telling you, Odell, you’re going to come under suspicion because of the circumstances, you understand that, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah . . .”
“So that means you’re going to have to trim the truth a little, are you following me?”
“Sure. How do you mean?”
“I mean, as well as leaving out the part about Dean waking you up by whispering in your ear, you’ve got to leave out the part about Dean going away with the guy in the green Pontiac, and especially about the package getting delivered here. You can’t talk to anyone about that, okay?”
“Okay. Why not?”
“Because I’m asking you to. Believe me, it’ll only make a bad situation worse for everyone, not just Dean, everyone, including you, but mainly it’d make big trouble for me, that’s why.”
“Why would it do that?”
“Jesus . . . it just would. Now, listen up good, Odell. Do you like me?”
“Uhuh.”
“That’s good, because I like you too, but if you tell anyone at all, especially the Chief of Police, about this package here, it’ll most likely mean I end up in jail. Would you want to see me in jail, Odell?”
“No.”
“Well, all right then, just keep your lip zipped about the green Pontiac and the package and everything’ll go okay, except now Dean is gonna be a wanted man. He won’t run far, hasn’t got the connections or the smarts. Jesus, Dean . . .”
She put her head in her hands and didn’t move for awhile. My guts rumbled but I don’t think she heard. I really wanted breakfast, but how would it look when the cops come and I’m chowing down on sausages and waffles, with maybe some bacon on the side, plus coffee, when there’s a dead frozen woman been discovered down in the basement? It wouldn’t look good, that’s how it’d look. I had to make the sacrifice, not just for me, for Lorraine too. Seeing her there looking miserable about what happened, it made my heart hurt, so if she wanted me to trim the truth like she described it, then I would.
“Odell,” she says, “we’ve got to get your story set about how Dean went away from here. This is what happened, are you listening close?”
“I’m listening.”
“About ten o’ clock Monday night you and Dean heard a car horn outside. You went out on the porch and there’s a car parked halfway along the driveway, so far away you can’t see what kind in the dark. That’s important – you can’t see what kind or who’s in it. But Dean acts like it’s nothing strange and goes down to talk to the guy or guys in the car, then he comes back and says he has to go away for a few days and will you take over his lawnmowing schedule till he gets back, which you said you will because he’s been pretty good to you even if you only met a little while ago. So Dean goes away with these guys without even packing a bag – remember that detail because they’ll look over everything in his room and see his razor’s still there and stuff like that, so get that part right, he left with just the clothes he’s wearing. It’ll sound peculiar but the facts will bear it out . . . except if they catch Dean and he says something different, which he would . . . Well, we just have to hope they don’t catch him. Maybe they won’t. I hate to say it, but Dean is so messed up he might just kill himself over this from remorse or something . . .”
I waited for more things to remember but she was done. “Can you remember that story, Odell?”
“I sure can, it’s simple.”
“Okay,” she says, standing up, “I’m going to call Chief Webb. Have you got your ducks in a row, Odell?”
“Ducks?”
“Are your thoughts all organized about what happened and didn’t happen here, like I explained?”
“Sure thing.”
“Because Andy Webb is no fool. He’ll try and trip you up, so you better be ready.”
“I’m ready.”
“Okay then.”
And she started tapping the phone with her fingertip. “Chief Webb,” she says, then, “Lorraine Lowry. Tell him it’s urgent.” A few seconds went by then she says, “Andy, I’ve got a situation here. I’m out at my Aunt Bree’s place and . . . she’s dead. It’s murder, Andy . . . She’s in the freezer . . . In the freezer, yes . . .And Dean’s gone missing as of two days back . . . Right . . . Andy, I’d be real appreciative if you didn’t pass this on to the media till after the coroner’s come and gone, is that possible?”
It sounded like it was, because she said Thank you more than once then hung up. Then she picked up the package and waved it under my nose. “You know what this is in my hand?” she asked.
“A package?”
“Wrong. There’s nothing at all in my hand, because no package got delivered here, got that straight? There never was any package. If you can just keep that fact uppermost in your mind you and me can continue to be friends.”
“I’d like that.”
“Well, fine, I’d like that too. Everyone needs friends, especially when there’s a tragedy like this. That’s what friends are for, to cover for each other and keep the other guy out of trouble with the law. Once you’re in trouble with the law, you’re toast, I’ve seen it happen. Dean, he’s in the biggest trouble of his life now. . .”
&nb
sp; She sat down again at the table and I thought she’s going to cry, but she didn’t, just looked at the package in her hand and got straight up again, like she didn’t know which way to go or what to do at that exact moment, then she says to me, “I’m taking this out to my car. When this package disappears out of this kitchen it disappears out of your thoughts. Forever. Got that, Odell?”
“Got it.”
And away she goes. Soon as she’s gone I took a packet of cookies from the pantry and crammed three or four into my mouth I’m so starving hungry by then, and then three or four more, just to take the edge off of my appetite as they say, which had got my stomach churning so bad it’s painful, but those cookies kept the wolf from the door until I could eat a true meal later on after the cops came and went.
Lorraine come back in the house just as I’m swallowing the last of the cookies and tossing the empty packet in the trash bin under the sink. Her face was set very grim and determined so I made mine the same way so our stories would match up for Andy Webb. The thing I was thinking is this – if Lorraine and me can bring this off it brings us closer together like they say tragedy does, and from being closer who knows what might happen? I was getting those feelings about her even if she’s an older woman, but I could overlook that if we’re made for each other the way I’m thinking we are, which Lorraine might not have been, seeing as she’s got other things on her mind right now. But not me, I’m thinking hard about her and me, which helps to wipe away any thinking about that package, which I knew good and well was something illegal, which means she’s doing something against the law but, hey, nobody’s perfect and I could overlook that part too because love is blind.
