Cape Cod Noir - By David L Ulin Page 0,68

not feel melodramatic in the least.

Shortly after that my love for her had turned into something else.

I was not sure what it had turned into exactly.

It had turned into something darker and more solid.

It had started to darken when she told me that she was not sure that she could leave her husband and had solidified when one evening she introduced me to Gina.

She had told me that the two of us would get along nicely.

We did not.

I was still thinking constantly of Regina.

I did not know how I would get through the winter without her.

I got through it with Gina in Boston and mostly in bed.

From the outside it might have looked a little bit like love.

When she left to go back to Maine I felt nothing.

I did not even have a twinge of sadness seeing her go.

I returned to Woods Hole in the spring and my heart started racing.

Regina and I sat and watched the show.

The younger detective was certain he knew where the killer was hiding.

The older detective had his head buried in a file.

The female sergeant kissed the younger detective in a stairwell.

The older detective drank too much and looked at himself reproachfully in the mirror.

The killer got a job mopping floors in the police station.

The female sergeant had a dream that the younger detective shot and killed the older detective.

I poured us more wine and moved closer to her on the couch.

I was no longer tired.

I told her that I was tired earlier but had been revived by the walk.

I told her that I had taken the walk when I had remembered my father’s advice.

She had known my father and at the mention of him she moved closer to me.

The outside of her thigh had a noticeable pulse that I always said was her leg’s heartbeat.

She always told me that if it was pulsing that much on the outside of her leg I should feel the inside.

I did for a moment during the commercial.

That was the third thing I had to do.

When the show came back on she asked me what I thought would happen.

I said that I thought that the female sergeant’s dream would come true.

She said no.

I was hoping she would say that she was not asking about the show.

I was hoping she would say that she was asking me what would happen with us.

I told her that.

She said no.

She said that the female sergeant had dreams every episode and they never came true.

She said they were supposed to be read as clues for future cases but that they had nothing to do with this episode’s case.

I asked if the female detective was psychic.

She said that’s what she meant by saying that her dreams were clues to future cases.

She told me to be quiet so we could watch the show.

A baby I did not recognize was rescued by a woman I did not recognize.

A man I did not recognize beat another man I did not recognize with a tire iron.

This elicited a gasp from Regina.

She said that the man might die.

I said that was too bad but that I would feel worse if I knew who he was.

A boy on a bicycle rode across the screen ringing his bicycle bell excitedly.

She asked me if it was that time already.

I told her I didn’t know what she meant.

She explained that ten minutes before the end of every show there was some kind of scene like this.

Once it was a tugboat blowing its foghorn.

Once it was a dog leaping right at the camera.

She told me that the last ten minutes were always a doozy and this was a way of reminding audiences to stop getting snacks or going to the bathroom or talking.

I said that was interesting.

Or talking she said.

The older detective died of a heart attack.

The younger detective came upon the killer as he strangled a woman with a scarf.

The younger detective shot and killed the killer.

The female sergeant wept at the older detective’s funeral as she held the hand of the younger detective.

The killer’s funeral was not shown.

The show ended.

I did not like it any more than I had at the beginning.

I turned to tell her that I didn’t see the appeal.

She was crying.

That prevented me from saying anything critical about the show.

I told her that my father had always told me that when I saw a woman crying I should do something about it.

She said she always liked my father.

She said that she was crying because she couldn’t see me anymore.

She said