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us, in his or her own way, can have something to do with making it better. I
also like blueberry ice cream, fluffy bunny rabbits, stuffed animals,
especially teddy bears, and cute shoes, if they don t fit too tight.
You silly ass, Florida said.
Oh, one more thing. Earlier today, I found a dead body in a pond.
23.
We got back to the house late and took the bedroom Leonard had left us. He
was asleep on the couch. We made love again and talked some more. I told
Florida all I knew about Illium Moon, about how we found the body. She thought
we should call the police. I did too. But Leonard had taken bullets because of
me, the least I could do was give him some time.
You never heard any of this, I said. It comes up, except with Leonard, you
don t know a thing.
Oh, Hap.
Not a thing, Florida.
That poor man . . . down there.
He don t know he s up or down. Another day isn t going to matter.
We finally snuggled and fell asleep, and I dreamed.
And in this dream I was under water. Down there in the bookmobile with
Illium, but I could see clearly this time. It wasn t as dark as it had
actually been. Uncle Chester was there too. They were swollen and spongy and
their faces were no longer black. They were the color of damp oatmeal. Illium
was sitting behind the wheel. He had a jar of coupons. Beside him, on the
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passenger side, reading a paperback copy ofDracula, was Uncle Chester. I was
in the back, leaning between the seats, watching them. They didn t seem to
notice I was there. I looked over Uncle Chester s shoulder. He was reading the
part ofDracula about the Bloofer Lady, the vampire child murderer. I could
read it clearly, even though the words were gibberish, hieroglyphics at best.
Illium unscrewed the lid on the jar in his lap, and the jar filled with water
and the coupons floated up and out, paraded before him like small, wafer-thin
fish. He plucked one of them between his fingers and put it back in the jar.
He grabbed another, and another, but as fast as he put them in the jar they
floated out. Uncle Chester turned and looked at Illium. He shut the book and
held it in one hand. With the other he reached over and clutched at the
floating coupons. He helped put them in the jar, and still they floated out.
The process was endless. Illium and Uncle Chester grabbing the coupons,
putting them in the jar, and the coupons floating out.
I turned to the back and there was a trunk in the van, and the lid was up. It
was Uncle Chester s trunk. I looked inside. There was a little black boy in
there. Nude. His eyes wide open. His lips formed the wordsHelp me, but I
turned away.
On the opposite side of the van, mounted on the wall, was the painting
Leonard had done of the old house amid the trees. The paint began to bead,
then bubble. The bubbles filled with colors of the paint and streaked down its
length as if crying Crayola tears.
I felt uncomfortable. Hot. I realized I was holding my breath. The back door
of the van was shut. I tried to open it. It wouldn t budge. I turned and tried
to walk to the front of the van, but now I was swimming. I tried to ease
between Uncle Chester and Illium, make my way to the driver s window, but it
was closed. I was growing weak, dizzy. I grabbed at the window crank and
attempted to roll the window down, but the crank wouldn t work, and now Illium
and Uncle Chester had hold of me and were yanking me back. I twisted and tried
to fight them. Their faces were more puffed than before. Their eyes poked from
their heads like peeled grapes. The little black boy was out of the trunk. He
swam between them, took hold of my shirt. His eyes were pleading. His hand
tugged at me. His arm came loose at the shoulder and floated up, but still his
fingers held my shirt. Then his other arm came loose at his shoulder and
floated to the top of the van. Then his legs. And finally his head. His torso
came down to rest on my chest, and his body parts bobbed all around me,
shedding flesh, leaving only the floating bones, the rib cage lying across me.
I tried to pull the skeletal arm and fingers from my shirt, but I was too
weak. The bony arm began to tug. Coupons swam by me. Illium and Chester Pine
leaned over me and smiled. The water turned murky. I felt as if I were
blacking out.
Then I woke up hot and mummy-wrapped in the covers. The moon was filling the
room. Florida had rolled to the other side of the bed. The moonlight was
mostly on her, and I was in shadow. I noted that the shadow made my skin dark
as hers. I untwisted the sheets and sat on the edge of the bed and took in
some deep breaths. After a while, I rolled back on the bed and took hold of
the sheet and covered Florida and myself.
I thought about what I had dreamed. It seemed pretty silly now. There was a
logical explanation for everything in the dream, but I felt my unconscious was
also trying to tell me something I d overlooked all this time. I still didn t
know what it was, but I thought I had hold of the edges of it, and if I kept
my grip, I might pull the rest of it into view.
I lay awake until the moon slipped away and the sun eased up, rose and gold
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and already hot.
* * *
Florida was still asleep, and so was Leonard, when I tiptoed into the kitchen
and started coffee. By the time the coffee was beginning to perk, Leonard was
awake. He came in wearing his gray robe and some grungy bunny-rabbit slippers.
You know, those silly things with the ears on them, white cotton tails at the
heels. Personally, I ve always wanted a pair.
Leonard yawned, sat at the table. Where s Florida? he said.
Still sleeping. We were up late.
Contemplating the universe, of course. What s this?
He was pointing at his painting. After I got the coffee going, I had brought
it into the kitchen and propped it up in a chair. I had the copy ofDracula on
the table. I had a pencil and paper there too. I had drawn on the paper.
I been thinking stuff over, Leonard. I believe I ve come up with some
ideas.
Like what?
I poured him coffee, poured myself a cup, and said, I m looking at this now
from your standpoint. Your uncle isn t guilty. Once I could get myself to
think that way, I began to get some ideas. That s all they are, though,
ideas.
Let s hear them, Leonard said.
Your uncle was a fan of mysteries. He wanted to be a cop. He was a security
guard. He claimed to have information regarding child murders, and wanted to
have his own personal investigation with assistance from the police, but he
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