As with his previous visits, George wished he had talked
Janie out of burial in the mausoleum. “Being
buried in the ground is too expensive,” she said. Six months earlier, he and their daughters had
obeyed the funeral director’s gentle suggestion to leave before Janie was slid
into the box forever because the entombment would be “industrial.”
George turned out of the cemetery onto Covington Road. The car air freshener, “A Hint of Lemon”
reminded him of the Pledge Janie used when they were hosting a party. He used to love that smell because it meant
she would make her specialty, Mexican egg rolls. He saw
a runner who had slowed to a walk, hands on her hips, looking down, shivering. Should he stop and offer a ride? Janie had made all the decisions. Where to go on vacation. What to eat.
When to interfere with their daughters’ relationships, schoolwork, and
parenting. He hadn’t realized how much
he had lost his decision-making muscle until she was too weak to do it any
longer. Her oxygen mask kept her from
speaking, but he knew that if she had the strength, she would have ripped that
mask right off her face and told the doctor exactly what she wanted, which
George wasn’t able to do.
It was time to make some kind of decision about the runner. His daughters didn’t like him driving this
close to dark, but his neighbor Evelyn wanted him to lay flowers on her
husband’s tomb, a couple doors down from Janie.
She said she couldn’t go herself, Byron would understand, but since
George would be paying his respects to Janie, he could also pay them to
Byron. Evelyn gave him flowers she had
picked from the landlady’s garden and said with an endearing yet frightening
cackle, “Byron hated her. Tell him where
these came from.”
The runner looked over her shoulder at him, as if she
finally noticed he was driving slowly behind her. “Are you following me?” she asked. George said, “You look cold. Do you need a ride?” The runner exhaled with a big gust. “Can you take me to the entrance of Covington
Lakes?”
She got into the car.
George noticed goosebumps on her legs and arms. He had never seen goosebumps that large. The runner reached over and turned up the
heat without asking permission. She
smelled sweaty in a green sort of way that reminded him of his youngest
daughter who ran cross country in high school.
It was a nice mix with the lemon-scented air freshener. She ducked down when they heard the noise of a
police siren coming up behind them. George
pulled over to let it pass, but to his surprise, the police car stopped behind
him. George wondered what he had done
and if they would take his license away.
He had forgotten the runner, who had rolled herself into a ball, tucking
herself down on the floorboards. “Are
you okay?” he asked, thinking that she was sick or had cramps. “Shut up!” she said. “Get out of the car and don’t say anything
about me.”
George started fumbling with the glovebox to get out his
registration and banged her on the head.
“Ouch!” she yelped. “Sorry,
sorry,” he mumbled, pulling out receipts from TireMD and napkins from Dunkin’
Donuts, desperately searching for his registration.
George stumbled out of the car, holding an official looking
piece of paper and trying to free his wallet from his back pocket to show his
license. “Was I speeding, sir?”
“We had a report of an excessively slow vehicle. We also are looking for a brown-haired woman
who was last seen running on this path.
Have you seen her?”
George felt himself start to panic. The cop seemed to understand. “She poses as a runner and goes to houses
with elderly residents and says she needs a drink of water. She then ties them up, forces them to tell
her where they keep their bank passwords written down (and old people always
write them down), transfers their money to an offshore account, and leaves.”
The cop picked up on George’s consternation and continued. “Sir, you look like you shouldn’t be driving at
twilight. Why don’t I follow you home to
make sure you get there safely, and then we can agree that you will only drive
in daylight hours. Sound good?”
“Yes, yes. Thank you,
sir!” George shakily got into his car as
the officer walked back to his.
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