The Stranger's Obituary

by Jessica L. Randall

  Bernie's brow creased in confusion.

  “Now why would someone name a fish sandwich after a person? One can only guess.”

  “And talk.”

  “Well, I read an article about Karma recently, and I'm afraid Karma's to blame for your messy predicament. What goes around comes around, you know?”

  “You better hope not,” Bernie shouted, throwing the pen and pad to the floor. Doug rushed around the bar.

  Susan stood, holding her hands out. “Don't worry. I can see it's time for me to leave. I don't need anyone throwing me out. Last time I nearly broke my arm”

  She stalked out, shooting a dirty look at Doug as she left.

  Doug instinctively put a hand on Bernie's shoulder, leading her to a stool. When he saw the tears in the corners of her eyes, he had to admit he was as much a sucker for Bernie as he always was. What's more, he was going to support Bernie while she was here, just like she'd helped him through tough times. It didn't matter what else had happened between them. He grabbed a couple of orders and delivered them before returning to face Bernie.

  “You have a Big Fish Sandwich?”

  “Only around Lent.”

  “Is it really named after me?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Because of what I did. I don't blame you. I do horrible, stinky things and then slip away.”

  “It's not that at all.” Doug sighed. “Big fish.”

  She gave him a bewildered look.

  “Little pond. You were always a big fish in a little pond. We all knew you had bigger and better things to do.”

  “Right. Because I think I'm better than everyone else.” Her eyes looked sad.

  “No. I mean I tried to hold on to something I shouldn't have.”

  “It wasn't your fault, Doug.”

  “You were young. You had your own dreams. I tried to make you part of mine. You don't belong in a place like this.”

  Bernie stood up abruptly. She walked around the counter to grab her purse, pulled out a stack of bills, and held them out to Doug. “You're right. I don't. But I need to make things right.”

  Was she kidding? Why did she think he never cashed any of the checks she’d mailed him years ago? Doug felt the heat creeping up his neck.

  “That's not how you make things better, Bernie. I hoped you understood that by now.”

  She walked back to Doug with long, stiff strides. In seconds she was inches from him. The sweet scent of her golden-blonde hair made him step back. Her wide blue-green eyes brimmed with tears, and he felt a moment of panic, wishing he could fix this. Bernie always had a way of making him want to take care of her, and it was bound to back-fire.

  Bernie moved in again as she thrust the money at him. “I stole from you, Doug.” Her voice was a hiss, but a few customers turned and stared. “Right after I said I'd marry you in front of the whole town. Let me pay you back.”

  Doug's chest burned. A lump formed in his throat. “I don't want your money.”

  Bernie shoved the bills back in her purse. “Fine,” she nearly shouted. “I'll be here first thing in the morning.”

  “What?”

  “You don't have a waitress. I'm going to work it off.”

  As she blew out of the restaurant, Doug sat down, dropping his head into his hands. After everything that had happened, she'd tried to throw money at him. All he wanted was an apology, and maybe an explanation.

  Chapter 8

  Cracked

  Mina pulled a tray of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven and set them on top to cool. Making sure there were cookies on the kitchen counter was the first thing she did when things didn't feel right, even though she was too anxious to eat them right now. Besides, it was only eight a.m. She turned off the oven and paced between the dining room and the living room. It didn't matter what she did. Things were not right.

  For the most part, she'd stayed away from the living room window, but every once in a while she'd give in and peek out. She never thought the absence of that awful reporter would be a cause of anxiety. Ever since he'd quoted her blog entry, she'd felt like an earthquake was about to reduce her world to rubble, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  He knew. And what was more, he wanted her to know he knew. So all she could do was obsessively check her blog, wincing every time she hit refresh, waiting for a comment that pulled the curtain away from the travel wizard, revealing her to be a corn-fed hack. Too bad in real-life you couldn’t reasonably expect a tornado to pick up a nearby house and deposit it on your enemy.

  There was nothing, and that was worse. What did he want? If he was going to expose her, putting an end to her sanity and her livelihood, surely he would have done it by now. This had to have something to do with Bernie. He wanted information. So why didn't he come and ask for it and get it over with. It had been three days.

  There were things she knew about Bernie that Bernie herself didn't know, but he'd have to do a lot worse than reveal Mina as a fraud to get to that. She wouldn't do that to her mother, or to Bernie for that matter. She'd been hurt when Bernie stole the car and left without so much as a word, and when she'd hardly heard from her in the eight years she was gone. But they were sisters. As hard as it was to have her life shaken up by Bernie's return, her home had family in it again. That didn't mean she wasn't relieved when Bernie decided to spend her days at the diner for a while, though.

  Bernie walked into the kitchen wearing a soft sweater and tall boots, her hair pulled into her signature chignon and her make-up perfect, as if she was ready for the eyes of the world to rest upon her. At least she was showing some spirit these days, acting more like herself. She took a cookie from the tray, then bit into it.

  “Ouch, hot.” She hurried to the sink and took a drink from the faucet as if she was a kid again. “But so good. Evan never let me eat cookies.”

  “He didn't let you?” Mina never thought she'd hear her sister say something like that. Bernie hadn't spoken much about her life in Hollywood. Maybe she wasn't proud of who she became. Perhaps that was another reason she'd kept her distance.

  Bernie bristled. “Well, he knows the business. If I didn't listen to him I'd never have gotten where I am. Well, not where I am right now ... you know what I mean.”

  “And was it really where you wanted to be?”

  Bernie stuffed the rest of the cookie into her mouth.

  “Isn't it where everyone wants to be?”

  “No. It's not.”

  Bernie put her hands on Mina's shoulders, staring into her eyes. “If I remember right, this isn't where you intended to be.”

  Before Mina could spit out a defense, Bernie waved her hands in her face.

  “You don't need to argue with me all the time. We're both too stubborn to listen, anyway. But don't you think since I've given in and eaten all these horribly fattening cookies you keep baking, you owe me something?”

  Mina stared, her mouth agape at Bernie's ever-increasingly self-oriented logic. What could she possibly owe her sister?

  “Come with me to the Easter egg hunt.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “I just think since that creepy reporter is gone we should enjoy our freedom and get out of here for a while. We don't have to be the center of attention. I promise. We'll walk around, get some exercise.”

  “Aren't you going to the diner?”

  “Sure. I'll go after. Doug would probably prefer I don't show up anyway.”

  “I doubt that's true,” Mina said, her tone unconvincing.

  “Mina.” Bernie's voice was quiet and raspy. “You don't know the half of what I did to Doug.”

  Mina stared at her, wide-eyed. “What more could you have done?”

  She remembered the early December evening when Doug had asked Bernie to marry him; the way his smile stretched across his whole face. Doug's happiness had a way of seeping through the container. It spilled through the crowd, more potent than the pine in the air, and Bernie sparkled like the silver that gleamed on t
he big tree in the square.

  Mina knew her loyalty should always be with family, but it was hard to look at Doug after that and not be disappointed with and for Bernie, even though she kept telling herself there had to be a reason. She'd really believed Bernie was every bit as happy as Doug. What made her run without so much as a word to anyone?

  Bernie stiffened. “Something really bad. I'm sure the whole town knows about it by now so you'll hear soon enough. Doug's the most trusting, kind-hearted person I've ever met, and I betrayed him. But Mina, I did what I had to do. Can't you just be my sister and trust me?”

  Guilt churned Mina's stomach. Had it ever occurred to her that her sister might have been going through something she didn't know about? That she might have needed support and sympathy all those years ago? And yet, how could she have helped when Bernie didn't come to her?

  She let the guilt turn to irritation. Bernie was doing the same thing now. It was ridiculous to think she could have a real relationship with her sister when she'd been hiding things all these years, and she still wasn't ready to be honest.

  “I have some work to do,” Mina said. “You should go without me.”

  Bernie looked hurt. It was over-dramatized and Mina couldn't help laughing.

  “How did you make a career out of that?”

  Bernie smacked Mina's arm. “I'm sorry for wanting to spend some time with my sister.”

  The comment lodged somewhere in Mina's chest, as it was intended.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Good,” Bernie said, bounding to the door. “That's Gladys.”

  “Of course Gladys is behind this.” Gladys was a treasure, but she had a way of sticking her fingers into other people's pies.

  Gladys stood on the porch, bundled in her fur coat. She stroked it as if making a point as she looked over Bernie's shoulder at Mina. “Get your sweater, dear.”

  Mina sighed and went for her over-sized sweater. It seemed Bernie and Gladys were teaming up to get her out of the house. She could tell Bernie no, but she wasn't very good at turning down Gladys. She'd been her only real friend in all the years Mina was alone, unless you counted Frank, who was more like a father. Without Gladys, Mina would probably have been found suffocated under a large pile of cats long ago—if she was discovered at all.

  Gladys' best friend and next door neighbor, Ada Foster, was waiting in the large, gold Cadillac. Bernie and Mina scooted into the backseat. The car smelled like leather and Aqua Net. Did they even sell that anymore?

  Ada turned around, looking the sisters over with clear blue eyes.

  “It's so nice to see you two girls together again! Christa would be so happy.”

  Mina smiled faintly. It was true. Their mother never wanted Bernie to go to California, as much for her own protection as for Bernie's. Although she was gone, Mina was still worried about protecting her mother's name.

  Gladys drove the over-sized car to the city park, circling the square until she found an empty spot.

  Mina looked through the window, noting the number of people that had gathered for the hunt, and felt a familiar tightness in her chest. At least most of them were kids, who she tolerated better than adults.

  She took a deep breath and climbed out of the Cadillac, watching the children race by with pastel-colored baskets slung over their arms. Their glee caused Mina to look up at the overcast sky and notice how dark the clouds were beginning to look. The children clearly didn't give these things a second thought, but she noticed several parents pull a child back to button their coat, then look up in a nervous, adult way, as Mina had.

  As the group of women walked across the grass, a little girl in a pink skirt and camouflage coat came running toward them, arms outstretched.

  “Grandma!” Juniper called, wrapping her arms around Gladys.

  Max and Lila Ellison walked behind her. Max was several years younger than Mina, but she knew him in passing, and Gladys was forever talking about him. Mina could always spot him by the dark-rimmed glasses and plaid shirt. Lila hadn't been in town long, so Mina had only seen her a few times, but she seemed to fit here. She clung to Max's arm, her skirt swishing around her calves as she walked. She was wearing flip-flops even though it was April.

  “Hello, Junie. Is your dad going to let you start filling that basket yet?” Gladys turned to Mina and Bernie. “He makes her give the other children a head-start so she doesn't get to everything first.”

  Her dad approached. “You might say she has an unfair advantage.”

  “Oh, right,” Bernie said, smiling. “She found something for me at the diner the other day.”

  Max handed Junie the basket and they watched as she ran around the park, pulling plastic eggs out of the hard-to-find places the other children had walked right by. Mina let Bernie and the older women chat with the happy young couple as she pulled back, watching Junie fill her basket with ease before flying back to her father.

  “I thought you didn't even eat candy anymore, Junie,” he said, examining the full basket.

  “Well, I still eat it in moderation.”

  Her father's eyebrows rose.

  “And Leona Bell says she wants what's left,” Junie said. “Can Grandma take me down the street to Doug's? He always has something for me.”

  Max nodded and the girl grabbed Gladys's sleeve, pulling her across the grass. The group followed, probably feeling, as Mina did, that if there was anything interesting to see here it would, likely-as-not, involve Juniper and Gladys.

  The trees that lined the sidewalks downtown were showing eager signs of life. Relief poured out of the open doors of the shops. It wasn't exactly warm yet, and the clouds were now so dark it was hard to believe it was morning, but the breeze was mild, and carried the scent of thawed earth.

  They could see Doug up ahead outside the diner. A large basket sat near the door. The crack in the sidewalk was still there, surrounded by parking blocks.

  He lit up when he saw them approaching and bent to pull something out of the basket.

  “Juniper, I have something for you.”

  Juniper dropped her grandma's sleeve. As she hurried toward Doug, her Easter basket knocking against her side, a yellow plastic egg fell out onto the sidewalk. It didn't break apart, but rolled along the level concrete as if it were going downhill. Juniper followed, trying to grab it, but it continued on, its pace quickening as it rolled toward the large crack.

  Just as it disappeared into the hole, the sky flashed. A deafening thunderclap seemed to shake the sidewalk beneath them. Gladys and Ada jumped, grabbing each other's arms and crying out in alarm. Doug jumped to his feet and ran to meet Junie, who seemed more intrigued than afraid. Max and Lila hurried to crowd around the little girl, and everyone backed toward the overhang of the diner as rain pelted the concrete; everyone except Bernie.

  Bernie wandered the sidewalk, craning her neck as if she was looking for someone. In her distraction, and with rain streaming into her eyes, she walked backwards, inching closer to the crack, which Mina noticed had grown to at least twenty times the size it was. The closest parking block had fallen inside, leaving the hole exposed.

  Everyone else must have noticed it at the same time. They cried out, but Doug was the first to run out and grab Bernie before she fell into it. Bernie jumped at Doug's touch, then turned toward him, letting him hold her for a brief moment, rain pouring over them as she looked up into his face. Then they stepped apart, and Mina looked at the others, who must have felt as she did, like they'd all been peeping into an intimate scene through someone's window.

  Then a scream pierced through the static sound of rain. Mina knew it was Bernie, but she'd never heard that strangled, fearful sound before. They all turned, rushing to the edge of the crack, except for Max, who secured Junie in the diner before joining them.

  At first, Mina wasn't sure what they were looking at. It was a deep hole, with something that looked like green plastic rumpled beneath the white and orange block. Then lightening flashed, illuminating e
verything in its blue light, and Mina saw it: finger bones sticking out from under the layer of tarp.

  She looked up—right into the face of the reporter, who somehow appeared at just the right time, or just the wrong one. He stood staring down into the hole from the other side, reaching for his camera. His dark eyes, half hidden by the wet hair streaming into them, didn't show fear, but rather a spark of excitement.

  Chapter 9

  Blown Away

  Mina waited until it was almost dark before slipping out of the house. She and Bernie had taken to walking together lately, but since the incident downtown the day before, Mina ached for time alone. Luckily, Bernie had nodded off on the sofa, and she hadn't seen that nosy reporter since the discovery of the remains. It was a good distraction, and should keep him away from the house for a while.

  But still, Mina wished he hadn't returned for the town's shocking Easter revelation. It would keep him around longer. Who knows what kind of attention his article would bring to the town, and Auburn was a living oddity shop that didn't need the exposure. He already had all the information he needed to destroy the precarious security Mina had built for herself, and it didn't seem like he was ready to abandon his obsession for Bernie. The longer he stuck around, the closer he would get to learning things the world didn't need to know.

  The mild temperatures were holding out, but the sky remained heavy with storm clouds. That day they'd been dark, with an eery tinge of green, and the way they swam across the sky brought back memories of the worst storms: tornadoes that had not only destroyed lives but taken homes and turned them inside out, exposing everything inside.

  The air was humid, pressing in on Mina from all sides. But at least she was alone. As for the threatening storm, no one was too worried until the sirens went off, and she only planned to walk down the road, to the town limits like she'd always liked to do.

  As Mina walked, rain spattered lightly on her face and made tiny pock marks on the road. She sighed. When the sky held everything in, it made the world tense, with everyone waiting for something to happen. The rain was relief dripping from the sky.