their appetites. Every atom in me wanted to tell him to take his greedy little brownie-loving fingers and shove ’em where the sun don’t shine, but I needed him on my side.
“Sure. Leave Blondie alone tonight and there’ll be brownies in it for you tomorrow.”
Billy smiled and turned back to his rig to pop the gurney out before speeding off, leaving Aldus and me on Main Street looking at the slick stain where she’d been a moment before. Aldus cracked his knuckles enthusiastically and smiled hopefully, but I couldn’t shake the fog of wrong that was dogging me.
“I guess we’d better start canvassing,” I suggested to Aldus, who looked like a petulant twelve-year-old whose Mama’s told him he’s gotta do his homework before he goes to surf porn on the internet. Dr Phil would tell him to “muscle up.”
“Come on Aldus,” I offered heartily, punching him on the arm affectionately but forgetting my strength until he winced and rubbed the spot my fist had landed. “Remember I said I’ll take the late? But we have a dead girl here. Our first corpse in God knows how long.”
“Do you have to act so goddamn excited?” He sounded really petulant now. “Anyway, how bout old Mrs Kraus, down on Park and Lincoln last week? You forget already?”
“Buh-bow.” I made a noise like a game show buzzer signalling wrong answer. “Cardiac arrest. She was eighty-five. Her team lost the bridge final. She didn’t have the heart to go on.”
“Uncommon courage, my ass,” Aldus bitched. “Uncommon nagging more like. Shoulda given you the Medal of Pain-in-the-Ass, not the Medal of Freakin’ Valor.”
I laughed and scratched my arm, where the shiny, plastic scar ran from cuff to elbow.
Thing is, I agreed with him. No way am I brave. A year later and I still have nightmares about red-headed girls clutching smoking teddy bears.
Aldus swiftly changed tack, reminding me he wasn’t as clueless as he liked everyone to believe. “Ah, so okay, okay. What the hell else we gotta do this week, right? Only business lately’s been those crazy sonsabitches out at the old Hagan estate.”
“Technically,” I corrected him, “there are some pretty damn irritating daughtersabitches out there too.” We both sighed into the claggy heat of the Dirtwater night.
Aldus and I had really had it with the Children of the Apocalypse. “They aren’t the only ones sayin’ the world’s gonna end,” Aldus snorted. He was in his Buick, one leg propped on the dash, and I could see sock and way too much hairy white leg. “I know it’s hot as hell and feels like the end of the goddamn world, but I blame her.” He jabbed a finger at the radio, which he’d flicked onto NPR. Not that he’d ever admit to anyone else that he loved the hell out of what he called in company that liberal crap.
I tuned in. “…so I say it’s okay to look out for each other. To have a healthcare system that protects the vulnerable. To stop sending our kids off to die on foreign soil-”
Aldus flicked it off as I visualized Susan Murray, the stunning fifty-something blonde with the soft voice. He made a throaty tick that was hard to interpret. “Ever since that goddam woman came on the scene, the nutjobs have gone even crazier. ‘S the heat, y’know?”
I raised an eyebrow at him, and he went on.
“Makes people nuts. Horses and nutjobs, they can smell the change in the air.” He made that phlegmy tick again. “Maybe it is global warming or whatever the hell they call it. Whatever. But what I say is this. If we really are facing down maybe the first female President, then maybe the crazies are right. Maybe the world really is ending.” He paused for effect and I knew what was coming next. I’d heard it often enough. “No matter how good-lookin’ that goddam woman might be.”
I tried to make the right kind of pissed face, the one he would expect. But I wasn’t really listening. Mom says back in Aegira they’re spooked and predicting the end of the world too. It’s all to do with the royal line and this damn prophecy. Only one world can survive. Bloodtides. And all that. I guess that’s enough to spook anyone.
Me, I haven’t got enough headspace for anyone else’s prophecies. I’ve been living under the shadow of my own personal End of Days prediction for thirteen years now.
But, as the song says, I’ve only got myself to blame.