Bahlin grinned at me over his shoulder. “Sure. Then rinse your mouth, and we’ll go over it.” He laughed and went back to the head on the counter, bending to look at the underside of the jaw.
I went to the sink and washed my mouth out. Realizing I had vomit detritus on the bottom of my shirt from where I’d wiped my mouth, I told Bahlin I’d be right back and went into the bedroom to change. I didn’t want any of the sickness on me. The smell was burned into my nose and I almost couldn’t stand that much of a reminder that I’d tossed my supper. Bahlin had said sympathetic vomiter as a joke. I was the real deal, even if it was just residual. Could one be sympathetic to one’s self? I wondered, snorting out loud. This wasn’t the time to be engaging in my own philosophical internal dialogue, even as a means of escapism. I had work to do. I dug out a clean T-shirt and dragged it on over my head, dropping the dirty shirt in the corner of the room as I walked back to the kitchen.
Bahlin stood aside, motioning me forward with a sweep of the hand. “You’ve got to get close to it eventually, Maddy. Might as well jump in now that you’ve emptied your stomach.”
“Never, ever refer to this moment again, Bahlin,” I growled at him. “Never. Do you understand me? It is not to ever be repeated. It is not to ever be mentioned. It is not to ever be recounted in any form.”
“Ah, I can’t make that promise, Maddy, for fear I’d be lying to you, which I already promised not to do. I will, however, promise not to make jests today.”
I shrugged, figuring it was probably the best I could do at the moment. I walked over to the head and looked at it. The skin was gray, probably from loss of blood but also from Maddox’s natural color when he’d been alive. I was loath to touch it but I did, doing my best not to recoil from the firm, rubbery texture. Looking at it analytically, there were several factors I had to take into consideration. I needed to see the head from several angles to form a hypothesis. But first I had to wash my hands to get the death cooties off. Yes, I know they don’t exist but after touching the body I was creeped out. I washed my hands thoroughly with water as hot as I could stand it and dried them on my clean shirt.
Turning to Bahlin I said, “Bay, would you handle the head for me? I’m not quite there yet.”
“Sure. Want me to roll it around?” His eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Did you act this way with Aloysius?” I grumped.
“Absolutely I did. He threw up at his first body, too, you know. Though no one wants to talk about that in the memoirs. But it’s true.”
I smiled up at him, nearly ignoring the fact I’d bent closer to the head. “Thanks for that. But remember, we’re not discussing it. It never happened.”
“Ah, see, I apologize. I didn’t mean to lie earlier.”
“No problem. Would you tip that head this way, then let me see the bottom side?”
Bahlin rolled the head around slowly, letting me get a good look at it from different angles. As I suspected, the cut was clean, the separation of the spinal cord surgical. After several more minutes of careful review, I asked him to set it down. I walked into the living room and sat on the sofa, but Bahlin stayed in the kitchen.
“Come in here with me after you’ve thoroughly washed your hands.”
Rolling his eyes, Bahlin went to the sink and washed his hands. “You realize we’ve got to get out of here, right? Now that we’ve looked the head over, there’s not much time to be sitting on the couch and discussing things.”
I was embarrassed to admit that I hadn’t, in fact, thought that far ahead. I shrugged and said, “So, do we need to leave now?” I glanced out the window in the living room. The surreal events of the evening had screwed up my perception of time. “What time is it?”
“It’s about eleven,” he said, glancing at the stove clock. “We really should leave…” he trailed off, looking concerned. I think we were both a bit out of sorts, I because of the severed head, and he out