Page 33 of Bent Heavens

Doug broke away with a snort of disgust, wiped sweat from his forehead, and looked at the trail of Lee’s belongings scattered across the concrete floor. He checked his watch and then bent over, gathering the toothbrush, deodorant, and winter hat. Liv could tell by the set of his lips that he wanted to say something, and after snatching up Lee’s old scarf, he couldn’t resist it.

“You’re losing it,” he said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Doug gave her an impatient look.

“You think it said car? You really think, Liv, that this thing knows the word car? Car is probably its word for ‘fuck you.’ Car is probably some god it’s praying will get it out of this mess. Well, it can say car all damn day. Nothing’s going to change what it’s got coming.”

Liv felt fireworks going off inside her. She turned and grabbed their first aid kit off a table. She nudged past Doug and squatted next to the skinner. Its writhing had gone slow-motion, a pained rotation of its injured hip. Carefully Liv held the area in place with her gloved hand and removed from the box antiseptic wipe, gauze, compress, and tape.

“Bow,” the skinner said.

Liv ground her jaw and opened the antiseptic wipe.

“Hole,” the skinner said.

Liv glared up at Doug’s stubborn chin.

Doug threw up exasperated hands. “You think when a dog goes ruff, ruff, it’s saying rough, like a rough texture? No! These are coincidences.”

Suddenly the shed felt like an oven. Liv began unspooling gauze, but her face, then body, was sluicing sweat. Doug paced around her and the skinner, gauging Liv’s ministrations. When he reached the skinner’s opposite side, Doug halted.

“So, what? You’re not mad at it anymore?”

“I’m not not mad,” Liv said. “I just know when I’ve heard words.”

“I guess mad can burn itself out,” Doug said. “Even if something does the worst thing in the world. Like kills your dad.”

“You’re jumping to conclusions. I’m tired, okay?”

“I’m jumping to conclusions? I got news for you, Liv. We’re both tired. This is tiring work.”

“We don’t have to do this all ourselves. We could still call someone. Maybe not the police, if you don’t want to. But, I don’t know—a teacher?”

“An adult, is what you’re saying. Because adults have been so fair to me in the past. So kind and understanding.” He held up the baton. “Oh, they’ll definitely understand this. Liv, think about what you’re saying.”

“No, you think. We could clear Dad’s name. We could finally do it. The proof is lying right here. We show this thing to the world, and no one would call Lee Fleming crazy again.”

“One person sees this thing, five minutes later it’s gone. The FBI, CIA, whatever. Then we’re the ones who seem crazy.” Doug looked exasperated. “You’re looking for a way forward that doesn’t hurt, Liv. That doesn’t hurt you. But it’s going to hurt. We have to live with that. This is about Lee, not us. ‘If anything ever happens to me, you two know what to do.’ He said that, Liv. Lee said that.”

“Why not take a few weeks off? Get our heads straight?”

“A few weeks? You want to waste that kind of time? This isn’t a pet.”

“I know that. I know that better than anyone. It’s at my house. It’s in my backyard.”

“Then your responsibility is double.”

She yanked a length of medical tape. The gauze was already soaked with blood.

“Then why don’t I even have a padlock key?” she asked.

Doug crossed his arms. “Maybe I’m waiting to see if you’re serious.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Fine. Great. Be mad at me, if that’s what it takes. Do what you have to do. As long as you’re mad. Because if you’re not mad, that’s a problem. A big problem. A problem with you.”