I open my eyes, look over to the cat-clock and see it’s only a bit past seven. Getting up, putting Rocky on the floor, I hunt for my robe. The smell of coffee lures me to the kitchen. On the stairway, I hear Ruby’s voice coming from down below.

“…Not to worry, darling…Yes, yes, I’m sure it will pass over and…All right, then…Good-bye.” Ruby hands me the phone to hang up as I walk into the kitchen.

“Sam rang up to tell us she and Lilly will be a little late this morning. There’s a storm brewing, so she thought the ferries might be running late.” She pours coffee.

“I thought I heard some thunder earlier this morning.” I sit down at the stump table and spin on a squeaky stool.

“Sam said something else I thought a bit odd.” Ruby sits down next to me. “That Bonnie is going to be needing—”

Just then the phone rings. “Hello?”

“Eve…it’s Bonnie.” She sounds odd. “There’s been an…accident…and Al…” Now she starts sobbing and not making any sense whatsoever. I’m getting really bad vibes here.

“Did he…hurt you?” I manage to stammer out while standing up, then slamming down my mug. Ruby heads over with a dishrag in one hand and Rocky slung over her other arm.

“He tried to…” She’s gasping for air and I feel my skin go clammy. “He wanted to…” She snivels, sighs long and slow and then nothing—silence. She whispers in a voice I doubt I’ll ever forget: “He’ll never, ever hurt me again. Never.” The finality of that sends chills through me. I tighten my robe.

“Oh no…Bonnie.” I sit back down. “Is…he there now?” Something tells me I don’t want an answer to this.

“Yes…but…no.”

“Oh, boy…oh shit.” I let Ruby know I need a smoke. She lights up two and puts one in my mouth. “Just where is Al—exactly?”

“Facedown, next to the stove.” I gasp. “He hasn’t moved. I felt his neck…nothing there but…cold.”

“Cold?” My stomach roils.

“Well, see…” Bonnie’s voice rises and she starts talking really fast. “He came home this morning stinking drunk. It’s not that unusual for him to pass out at his bar and then crawl home the next day.”

“Oh Bonnie.” The poor thing.

“So he comes in and I’m vacuuming, and he gets all hands and dirty words and grabbing at me and calling me a good-for-nothing, dried-up bitch! And you know, something happened—something snapped inside of me and I wasn’t me anymore. I wasn’t there anymore…. It was like I was watching from the ceiling. He kept shoving and pushing me, so I hit him with the vacuum cleaner tube and…” Her voice begins to squeak. “I honestly didn’t hit him that hard. I’m not very strong, you know. But then…this weird look came over his face and his eyes went white-like and he…he…he went…like…it seemed like…he wasn’t there anymore and then he just kind of melted onto the floor.”

She takes a deep breath and sobs out, “I don’t know how…I feel like I broke apart and part of me went away and part of me didn’t and that part…that part…watched. I couldn’t stop watching. I—” She breaks off sobbing in big mournful heaves.

“Oh…my…God.” The picture plays out in my mind. Ruby is shaking my arm, telling me to listen for a second. “Um…hang on, Bonnie,” I say gently. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

“Okay,” Bonnie whispers. I cup the mouthpiece and am pacing—thinking. My skin is clammy and I have the worst dry mouth ever. I feel sick.

“I can’t believe this. This is too much. I’ve never…What the hell are we going to do? I have to think; I…what?” A tear slides down my cheek.

“Sam said not to let Bonnie do anything rash, to tell her we’ll be over there as soon as we can.” Ruby’s eyes bug out of her head. “She knew…” We exchange a look. I frantically take a puff, looking in amazement at how my hand shakes.

“This is so nuts! What the hell should I tell Bonnie? To put on a nice outfit, brew a fresh pot of coffee and we’ll be right over? Come on over and have some coffee…with a dead body?” My voice cracks.

“Tell her to wait and we’ll ring her back in a moment or two. Tell her not to ring anyone until she speaks with us. Do it!” Ruby says with more oomph than I knew she had.

“Bonnie…listen…Ruby and I need to think here. We’ll call you back in a few minutes, okay?

“Okay…but hurry. I’m so afraid,” she chokes out in a desperate voice.

“I promise, okay?”

“Sure…okay.”

“Oh, and Bonnie?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t do anything crazy, like leave or…Just sit tight, all right?”

“Okay…’Bye.” The phone goes dead.

I hang it up and it rings the second it hits the wall. “Eve…Sam here.” I shoot a look at Ruby.

“How the hell?…Oh…right.” I shake my head, wondering when I’m going to wake up and realize this is all a dream.

“This is not a dream, girl. Now listen up: Bonnie is going to be just fine, but we all got to support her with this thing.”

“Oh, Sam…I don’t know…” I put my cigarette out in my coffee, take a sip and gag.

“Girl, I have been down this lonely road of drunk womanizers plenty. Besides…it wasn’t anything that Bonnie did. You got that?”

“Okay, okay…but Jesus…he’s dead…Couldn’t be from her vacuum cleaner?”

“Not likely. Now listen up!”

“I’m listening.” I wish I was drinking something stronger than coffee.

“Stick to coffee. Now, it’s pretty simple as to what’s going to come down. You and Ruby get over to Bonnie’s and—”

“My God—won’t we be considered accomplices or something? What a fucking nightmare!”

“It’s been her nightmare for a long time and now…it’s about over,” Sam says in a way I have to take notice of—like it had to be this way. “I got Lilly coming in the door here and we’ll be there soon as we can.”

“But…shouldn’t someone tell the cops? Shouldn’t we call…”

“Eve, would you let me finish?”

“Sorry. Right…sure. Go ahead.”

“Soon as you calm down Bonnie, call nine-one-one and just tell them Al Smitters needs an ambulance.”

“But…what about Bonnie and her vacuum and…”

“Don’t you worry none about that. Just tell them to come get…him. You understand me?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Good. Now we’re on our way, but it’s going to be a bit, so…so you call back Bonnie soon as we’re done here and then get on over there so she’s not alone—with him. It may be a while before an ambulance can get over from Bayfield.”

“Right. You and Lilly meet us over to Bonnie’s then…And Sam?”

“Yes child.”

“Bonnie’s going to be all right…isn’t she?”

“For the first time, both her and that lost soul of a man…I think peace has come for both their tired souls. We just gotta help Bonnie be strong now, that’s all.”

“See you at Bonnie’s then.” We good-bye and I hand the phone to Ruby.

“Oh Lord…I just want to wake up all over again.” I sit down and light up a fresh smoke. “Let’s see if I have this straight…” Adjusting my robe and pushing my hair up out of the way, I explain. “Bonnie was cleaning her house—correction: vacuuming her house—when Al comes at her all hot and horny, not to mention drunk out of his mind. I figure he grabbed her, threw her around a bit…maybe slugged her too.” Ruby gasps.

I continue with my description of the scene. “They fight…he swings…she runs…he grabs…she struggles and then BLAM! She freaks out and after holding in all that hate and fear for all those years—she hits him back with her trusty Hoover…maybe the thing’s even running…but it sounds like…like it was his time and that she was supposed to be there. It’s so weird. Then afterwards…after she knows he’s…gone…” I take a deep breath and say very slowly, “She sighs and sighs and sighs.”

I slowly exhale, imagining the scene: the whir of the vacuum competing with Bonnie’s sobbing and Al, lying there, all his meanness finally gone. Bonnie, in slow motion, sliding slowly to the floor, wondering, “When did things get so bad.”

“Good heavens, Eve.” Ruby adjusts her necklace for the hundredth time since I began my story. “Horrible—horrible—simply horrible. The poor woman.”

“God…can you imagine? Right in front of you—just like that. Poof and he’s toast.” I get up and move around, nervously picking up a spoon and walking around the entire stump table tapping the pots and pans hanging above it for therapy. I feel like exploding. I feel—I just wonder how she feels. Then I realize we need to be there with her.

“Sam is on her way with Lilly. I’m to call back Bonnie and let her know we’re on our way over and then Sam says we should call nine-one-one and tell them we need an ambulance for Mr. Smitters.”

“Well I think that sounds logical. Considering. Don’t you?”

“But Sam didn’t say anything about Bonnie hitting him back and—”

“I should think the less said about that, the better.” Ruby shrugs and we look at one another like we’re guilty and…are we?

“But I heard Bonnie say…” I stammer, trying to make sense out of this.

“I think”—Ruby rises, takes our mugs to the sink, then turns to face me—“I think that we should support Bonnie and leave the entire affair up to the authorities.”

“No kidding.” I turn toward the living room. Then turn back.

“I’ll get dressed now, ring Bonnie and tell her we’re on our way over. Scoot!”

“Jesus…but, well…you know he’s been drinking for years. Why even Dorothy’s heard about him way down in Eau Claire.” Ruby shakes her head. “Let me call her back—I feel it should be me.” I dial the phone; Bonnie picks up on the first hint of a ring.

“Yes—hello.” Her voice is so small.

“It’s me, Eve…Um…you doing all right there, Bonnie?” I’m picturing Al slumped over on the floor with the tube from the vacuum nearby. I shake my head and—the image is gone.

“Yes…fine. Considering.” She laughs weakly.

“Ruby and I are on our way over—okay?”

“Sure.” There’s a pause while she takes a big breath. “Thank you Eve; thank you.” The line goes dead.

I hand the phone to Ruby, who gives me a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and for the first time in my entire life, I set it down on the counter. So she gently places Rocky into my arms and we dash upstairs to change.

 

Ruby and I are heading down our winding drive on our way to Bonnie’s place. I’m letting her drive; I just feel so odd. I’m seeing my mom’s face again. Her death was so peaceful, but you never forget the goneness afterward. I sat there holding her hand until a nurse came and slipped it from mine. I instinctively am holding my own hand now and realize it and try to relax the thoughts away and to…

“You all right, darling?” Ruby asks as the van clumps into gear. We’re passing over the little wooden bridge. The creek has a mist floating above it and for a moment, off in the trees, I swear I see the shape of a woman. I shake my head and look again—nothing.

“I’m just remembering…dead stuff. Like in that stupid movie that gave us the creeps for weeks.”

“I see dead people!” We say at the same time, then laugh and boy does that feel good.

“Now be a love and unlatch the gate, hmm?”

“Right.” I hop out of the van, open the gate, then close it after Ruby pulls the van over next to the sun sign. I slam the door closed and suddenly feel better, stronger.

“Put the pedal to the metal,” I say, and she does and of course it takes the van a bit to get going, but we do. I root around, find my tape of Michael Franks and pop it in. His voice is so soothing. He softly croons “Dragonfly Summer.” We head south along North Shore Drive toward La Pointe.

“Oh look.” Ruby points to her left and toots the horn. “Charlie’s out fussing with one of his birdhouses.” We wave to the handsome man and he—paintbrush in hand—waves back.

“What will her life be like?” I ponder out loud. “Bonnie’s been with Al since fricking high school. Can you imagine?”

“I think perhaps we should focus on the present situation of Al not yet even in his grave, for God’s sake! He was a man…a human…a person with…I simply can’t bring myself to speak ill of the dead. Not yet. Those poor people.”

“No kidding—you’re right,” I agree, but with little conviction. I mean, I saw the bruises and what about the wounds on the inside? I know Ruby though and this is really a very sad day.

“You know”—I have my head half in my shoulder bag—“I’m not exactly sure just where the hell Bonnie and Al live—lived. I mean…” I light a cigarette and feel the cancer-causing serenity. These things are going to kill me. I take one more puff and put it out.

“I don’t think it’ll be too awfully difficult to find,” Ruby notes. “We’ve only to keep a lookout for that dreadful station wagon of hers.”

“Hey, this isn’t exactly a limo here.” I snap the visor on my side up and the yellow fringe with little hanging balls I tucked around the windshield comes undone. We chuckle.

“I know it’s a few blocks from the Liquor Lounge, so turn here.” I point down a side street off Main and sure enough, there’s Bonnie’s wagon parked outside a tired-looking faded yellow bungalow. The white shutters on one window are just about to slip off. But there’s a neatness to the yard—not a leaf out of place. We pull up along the street and hop out.

“The sky is getting awfully dark.” Ruby gasps as a bolt of lightning snaps and crackles across the sky directly above the house. Oh boy.

I reach up to knock but change my mind and try the door instead. “Hello? Bonnie, it’s—”

Bonnie rushes out of the darkness, grabbing me in a tight hug. She’s so frail, even though much taller than I. There’s just a hint of a woman wrapped up tight in a big blue sweater that I notice is inside out.

“Oh Eve.” Bonnie’s voice is a hoarse whisper; her eyes are red and puffy as hell. I pull away and she immediately crosses her arms in front of her, pulling herself in. She “Hellos” Ruby, then steps aside for us to enter.

I’m surprised by how charming the living room is—small and sparse, but I can see there are good bones here. It’s a typical Craftsman-style house with open rooms and lots of wooden built-ins. Everywhere you look—covering the mantle, on shelves and in several hutches—are trophies. Tons and tons of trophies. I’m doing everything I can to avoid looking down—but where the hell is…he?

“I’d offer you something, but he’s…” Bonnie snivels, brushes hair from her face and then adjusts her body. She becomes a bit taller. “He’s in the kitchen, in front of the refrigerator.” She stammers this fact. Ruby and I exchange a look of, “Now what?”

I sigh. “Where’s the phone?” Bonnie points toward the back of the house. “Not in the kitchen?” I accuse, then think better of myself and grab Ruby by the wrist and we head off through the dining room and around and into—the kitchen. If I think too much about all this, I’ll…I don’t know…throw up maybe. The air in here is so tight.

“Watch for Sam; we’re just going to call the sheriff or police or…” I manage to say over my shoulder while hauling Ruby beside me. We stand on the threshold of the tidy little kitchen and both of us stop short. Ruby smacks into me and I nearly trip over the big lump lying on top of a fuzzy green rug. The offending vacuum is parked neatly over in a corner. The phone seems to be miles away, over by the back door, which I really would like to dash out of.

“Thank heavens she thought to cover him.” Ruby sidesteps the pink chenille–covered Al, and joins me at the phone.

“I really can’t get over how everyone has these old dial phones here,” I remark to the black plastic phone, its curly cord is all twisted.

“If you haven’t a direct line when the power goes,” Ruby says while wrestling to open the back door, “then you’re shit out of luck!” The door yanks open and we both gladly gulp in the damp, stormy air.

“Hello, I’d like to…There’s been a vacuum…I mean…accident…” Ruby snatches the phone from me and explains the situation. In her clipped Brit way it sounds so less awful, like reporting the accidental demise of a soufflé that up and fell.

“There—that’s done. Someone from the police station will be here shortly as well as an ambulance. The ambulance will be a bit as they’ve got to take the ferry over from Bayfield.”

“Let’s go out front and see how Bonnie’s doing,” I exit the kitchen with Ruby on my heels.

Bonnie rises from a rocking chair, quickly crossing the room toward us.

“I don’t know why I didn’t just call them myself. I wasn’t sure what…” Her frightened eyes implore me to what? Forgive her? “I simply didn’t—He’s always had this power over me. I can’t explain it.”

“Dear child.” Ruby reaches for Bonnie’s hands. Holds them like a precious treasure. “You needn’t be afraid any longer.”

Then the dam lets loose and Bonnie crumples into Ruby’s tiny arms. Ruby leads her over to her couch, carefully sitting next to her, cradling her convulsing body.

I head over to the large picture window and sling open the drapes. The storm is still in the brewing stage. A few rumbles of thunder but no rain. My God, how in the world did I get myself wrapped up in all this? How do people get so twisted up together, and how is it that somehow you survive. Ruby’s a big fan of the “surrender” concept and—I look over at them—it seems to work for her, but me, I’m just not really made that way.

Yet I do see how so much crap in life can land in your lap and you have to either accept it and move on, so to speak, or jump up and either run, or at least try to change things. I guess it boils down to whether you’re the victim or not. Can you be a victim and still be a hero? Being a woman—hell, being a human—is such a drag sometimes.

“Hey,” I say too loudly. I’ve never been so relieved. “Here comes the ambulance with Sam and Lilly right behind.” I look down and notice that in my rush I put on one green and one blue Ked.

“Thank heavens,” Ruby remarks. “You let us handle things; you’re in no shape…”

Bonnie closes her eyes for a moment and I’m sure she’s going to pass out or something. Instead she pulls herself up. Pushes her hair back, out of the way and accepting a tissue from Ruby, blows her nose ever so politely.

“I’m fine.” Her voice is stronger. I look at Ruby and we shrug. “I’m really fine now.” She takes a deep breath and all three of us head toward the front door.

 

The ambulance has hauled Al away. He was declared dead by a very kind young man who gently gave the news to Bonnie. She mumbled a tearful “I know,” and they left with him. The young man also offered her something to calm her down, but she declined. I had all I could do not to butt in and ask for several somethings for myself. Ruby saw me step forward and shot me one of her looks.

“Lilly and me”—Sam motions for Lilly to follow—“we gonna brew up a big pot of Jamaican coffee.” They head back to Bonnie’s kitchen and we hear drawers and cupboards being opened and closed.

“Exactly what’s in Jamaican coffee?” I ask. Both Bonnie and Ruby shrug.

The smell of coffee starts to permeate the living room and draws us back into the kitchen. The three of us stand in the dining room and peer into the kitchen where Sam and Lilly have set up a lovely table. I notice the green rug where Al—never mind—but the rug is in the shape of a big lily pad with a red dragonfly in the middle. I smile and realize the vacuum has been put away as well. Good.

A knock at the front door is followed by a creak and a slam. Marsha rushes into the kitchen all out of breath, her hair dripping wet.

“I was in the shower”—Sam hands her a towel—“when my machine picked up and the man I rent from told me he was looking at something with his telescope and was watching an ambulance pull up to Bonnie’s and…What the hell happened? You okay?”

“Pull up a chair sister,” Sam directs. We all find chairs here and there, reassembling around the worn Formica table. “A mug of this and things are gonna smooth out a bit.” After pouring all around, she plunks the pot down in the center and we reach and lift and tentatively sip.

“Oh my.” Ruby blinks her eyes a bit. “I believe I’m going to enjoy this.”

“This is…strong,” Lilly lisps. We nod agreement. “Would you mind if…” Lilly disappears into the living room and returns with her shiny purse. She snaps it open, roots around inside, then holds up a crumpled pack. “If I smoke?”

“Al never allowed it in—” Bonnie catches herself. Clears her throat, pulls a plastic orange ashtray out of a drawer and puts it in the middle of the table. “Could I have one of those?”

Needless to say, everyone but Marsha lights up. She’s trying to quit—who isn’t? Looking around the table and feeling calmer all the time, thanks to Sam’s “brew,” I am grateful to be here. Grateful and more than that, I’m realizing that this bunch of women, in all our different shapes and sizes, are a family.

“Listen, Bonnie,” Marsha says, waving away smoke. “I’ll help with the—you know—arrangements and—”

“We’ll all help,” I break in and mean it. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Oh dear,” Ruby says with a sigh.

“By any chance have you got a big trunk?” I ask Bonnie. I put out my cigarette.

“No,” Bonnie answers. “Wait a minute. In the living room. Al brought it home when he emptied his parents’ trailer.”

“I bet you’re not very attached to it.” I get up, push in my chair and suggest we adjourn to the living room.

Bonnie liberates the steamer trunk, which used to be their coffee table. The thing is enormous, but after several bangs with my trusty Ked, the stubborn hasp falls, allowing me to open it all the way. An odor of damp and old seeps out. Thunder shakes the house and the lights dim but come right back up. Thank God.

“I was thinking”—I reach for one of the gazillion trophies—“that maybe these need—”

“To go!” Bonnie announces, louder than I’ve ever heard her speak. We all marvel. She stands and takes the trophy from me. With great care, she sets it gently down inside the trunk.

I hand another to her; it’s dropped with a resounding clang and we’re off. All the gals get up and start chucking trophies. From the buffet and builtins, side tables and wooden hutches, Al’s bowling trophies clump and clang into the trunk.

“We sure can’t be forgetting this.” Sam lifts the pink vacuum up. She places it onto the pile of trophies. Lilly pulls the lid up and over and down. It thuds closed.

“There’s just one thing left to do,” I announce. Thunder booms in agreement.

 

I’m backing up my van to Bonnie’s front door, Ruby is directing me this way and that.

“Not too much farther, darling. There! Perfect.”

“We can push it out,” I direct the group. “Thank goodness it’s on this rug.”

With Sam and Lilly on one side and Marsha and me on the other, we grunt the trunk into my van. Bonnie and Ruby push the doors closed.

“Lilly,” I suggest, “how ’bout you and Sam give Marsha and Bonnie a lift back to our cottage.”

“Sure thing.” Lilly cocks her head toward her Lincoln. She takes something out of her purse, gives it a shake and unfolds it over her towering hairdo. It’s one of those plastic pleated rain hats.

“C’mon,” I say to Ruby. We climb in my van and head out of town.

“I didn’t tell the boys”—Ruby dabs color onto her lips—“exactly what was in this trunk, just that we would appreciate the help of two big strong men.”

“We’ll tell them eventually,” I say. “Of all people, they’d understand the symbolism. My God, talk about good anchor material. But you know, I didn’t really see anything of hers. Like she wasn’t really there.”

“Perhaps she wasn’t.” Ruby sighs.

We drive on in silence, the morning’s goings-on receding little by little. A soft rain begins. I spy Lilly’s car in the rearview mirror, give my hair a push here and there and signal to turn left down our winding driveway.

“Wish I had Lilly’s hat,” Ruby remarks, hopping out of the van in order to open the gate.

She thumps back in and pulls the door shut. “It’s a lovely rain.”

The van chugs up the final little knoll before reaching the back door to the cottage. Lights are on in the kitchen. As we pull up, Johnny and Howard wave us over.

“Too cute,” I comment. “Matching yellow slickers.”

The rain starts coming down harder. We make a mad dash for the back-porch door that Johnny is gallantly holding open. Bonnie’s the last in. I see that she’s got on one of Lilly’s plastic scarf-hats.

Ruby herds the ladies into the warm kitchen while I explain what happened to Al and also what I want them to do. I assure them there’s no one actually in the trunk, but Johnny still takes a peek inside, shows Howard and then they close it again. They walk toward the barn, shaking their heads. Maybe I’ll just let them wonder—I mean think about it: a trunk of trophies and a pink vacuum. Hmmm.

I hear the toot of my van horn, our agreed upon signal. Those guys are so great. I told them we needed to do this without any testosterone around. But I did have to promise them a complete explanation over dinner later tonight.

“Okay ladies,” I announce to the group huddled around the stump table. “Time to roll.” As they pass the basement door on the way to the barn, I hand each one of them an umbrella from the pegs. I watch four round puffs of color appear outside as they pop open. Bonnie’s is the only one with bright flowers on it. The other three are dull shades of red, yellow and brown. I put my arm around Ruby’s shoulder and give her a good squeeze.

“Shall we?” I hand her a bright red one and decide on a basic black. We follow the line of color.

The ladies are gathered around the side door waiting for me to unlatch it. I open it and in we traipse. All the umbrellas close real slowly. Then I punch the big green button and the barn doors swing open.

The boys had hefted the trunk up onto the very back of the duck and tied it on. I get in first, start up the engine and pull up to the door. One by one the ladies climb aboard. I come over to the side to give Sam an extra tug.

“Suppose you’re wondering,” she gasps out, “if the trunk or me weighs more—hmm?”

“Of course not,” I lie. “I’m sure you do. Now sit down so Ruby can climb aboard.”

“Thank heavens,” Ruby says, plopping down beside me, “this thing has a top on it or we’d all get soaked to the skin. Should we even be out in this rain?”

“Probably not.” I click on the lights and pull out of the barn.

Since the boys are back at their place, I drive us down the hill leading to the boathouse. We travel past it toward the dock. I head us into the lake, switch on the outboard and off to the east we float. I decide music would seem inappropriate. I look into the rearview mirror and watch Bonnie. She’s going to be okay now.

“How about here?” I ask no one in particular. “There’s no cottages in sight and we’re far from the shore.”

“This’ll do just fine,” Sam says.

I cut the motor. We all turn to look back at Bonnie and the trunk perched on the lip of the duck. She stands, figures out the rope and unties it. Then she looks back at us.

“I feel like I should say a prayer or…” Bonnie says, her voice mixing with the sound of the water lapping against the sides of the duck. “But for the life of me, nothing comes to mind. Except”—she turns to the trunk, steps back and then lunges at it with all her might—“bon voyage!” The trunk sails off the duck and lands in the water with a huge splash that leaps up and drenches Bonnie.

She laughs and laughs and we join in and it feels just right.

 

We’re cozy around a crackling fire. The boys are wrapped in an afghan on the couch and Ruby and I are each snuggled in big shawls. Cups of chamomile tea are steaming on the coffee table. Rocky’s tail is the only movement in the room. I scratch his belly and he purrs deep and reassuringly. We’ve been filling in the boys on all the goings-on of our disastrous day.

“Soon as we left your place,” Johnny says, “and headed home, the post-lady stopped us and told us that Al Smitters was dead. Something about a man with a telescope?”

“That would be Marsha’s landlord,” I suggest, then sigh. Could someone be spying on us here? “I bet he had a heart attack, or one of those annual things that can burst.”

“Aneurysm,” Howard corrects me. “I had a friend complain of a headache, went and lied down and—”

“Gone,” Johnny finishes. “Not a bad way to go, if you ask me.”

“Such a peculiar day,” Ruby adds. “Al and Bonnie and all that lot and my heavens, what a sight when all that bloody water came splashing all over—”

“What?” both the boys say at once, sitting up real quick.

“Oh heavens,” Ruby admonishes with a small chuckle. “Not bloody-bloody. Really, you two can be so daft.”

Rocky meows huge and big with a yawn thrown in and we chuckle and sigh into our thoughts.