Deaths of Jocasta (10 page)

As Joanne walked toward me, Ms. Opossum shot out from under the bed and through the now unguarded doorway.

“See,” Joanne observed, “just the idea of me coming—”

“But she’s still in the house,” I cut off her gloating.

Ms. Opossum was skittering about the living room. I closed the doors as we went back up the hallway so at least she couldn’t get back into any of the bedrooms.

“You can chase her this time,” I told Joanne as we surveyed the room.

“In heels?” she responded, not looking like she had any intention of chasing anything.

So I set off, an opossum posse of one. First I propped open the screen door, then I swept Opossum out of the corner she had chosen to cower in. She went to the next corner. I chased her out of that one and she returned to the first corner.

“Making great progress,” Joanne observed.

“Eat shit and die,” was my only possible response.

This time I herded Opossum directly toward Joanne. Joanne didn’t move, merely motioned toward the door. Opossum veered off, and, as luck would have it, went in the direction Joanne pointed. Out the door and into the night.

“It’s easy if you know how,” she said complacently.

“Luck,” I commented and stalked out the door, just to make sure Opossum was really gone and not lurking out on the porch. All clear. Only my bruised ego in sight. The clump of people had probably decided to wait this out in the safety of the house, with food and drink to sustain them through their ordeal.

Joanne came out on the porch behind me.

“Good thing you didn’t go into opossum catching as a career,” she said.

“Whereas you have obviously missed your calling,” I replied.

“Don’t be tacky. You’re not…Shit.”

“I’m not? That’s nice to know.”

One of those impossible-to-catch-opossum-in heels was caught in a gap between the floorboards. Joanne was standing on the porch, looking lopsided, trying to extricate her stuck shoe.

“Want some help?” I asked, laughing at her predicament.

“Knothole. Damn,” was her reply. “Would you be useful and pull?” she said, getting exasperated.

“Your wish is my command,” I replied with a malicious chuckle. I knelt down, put a hand under her foot and pulled. It didn’t budge. “Gosh, Joanne, it’s really wedged in. Didn’t know you weighed that much. Let me get a better angle.”

I moved in front of her, putting one hand under the shoe and the other on her ankle.

“Eat shit and die. Pull first,” was her response.

I tried to gently pry up the shoe, not wanting to scuff the heel too much. It didn’t want to cooperate. I started to pull a bit harder. My hand on Joanne’s ankle slipped, sliding up the slick stocking to her calf. I leaned my shoulder into her thigh to get a better grip.

“Micky,” Joanne said.

The heel was starting to become unstuck.

“Micky,” she repeated.

Her hand was on my shoulder for support. My shoulder was pressed against her thigh. I realized the slit in her gown was open and my shoulder was pressing into bare flesh.

I stopped and looked up at her. Then I noticed what my head was even with. Her black underwear. Joanne abruptly stepped out of the stuck shoe and moved away from me. I finished pulling her shoe up. I really hadn’t been flirting. Well, not as much as she obviously thought I was. I handed her the shoe. She took it and put it on, then walked down the steps. Having nowhere else to go, I followed her.

Joanne turned to face me. “Do you want Alex for a threesome or would you prefer just the two of us?” she asked, looking directly at me.

“What are you talking about?” I replied. Which was an incredibly stupid thing to say.

“Going on an Easter egg hunt,” she retorted.

“I’m sorry. Of course I know what you’re talking about, I’m just…I’m…” I sputtered.

Eros was staging a three-ring circus tonight. I didn’t have the vaguest idea how to get out of this, complicated by not wanting to get out of it.

“We’ve been heading for this. You know that,” Joanne said.

“Yes, I know, we have, haven’t we?” I mumbled inanely.

“Come on. Let’s go.” She took my hand and lead me in the direction of the blue cottage.

The idea that Danny and Elly and Cordelia and whatever-her-name-was (I didn’t know for sure that they were staying in the blue cottage, but paranoia made it seem inevitable) would know, perhaps hear, panicked me.

“Not the cottage,” I said, stopping. “Danny…”

“Where?” she asked, as she turned to face me. Then she took my other hand in hers. Her hands were warm and strong; I could feel the slight calluses. She brought one of my hands to her lips, kissing first the back, then turning it over to kiss my palm. I shivered in the warm night air.

“I don’t know,” I replied, trying frantically to think what my options were. Cordelia had, at best, given me an iffy maybe, the heat of a moment now cooled. Joanne left no doubts about what she wanted. My blood was pounding.

What the hell am I going to do, I thought wildly. I desperately wanted to sleep with both these women. I will probably end up with neither, flashed through my churning brain.

“The woods? It’s mild enough,” Joanne suggested.

“The woods?” I repeated stupidly.

“You’ve done it in the woods, haven’t you?” she asked.

“No…Yes…Of course, I have,” I said, trying to remember just what I’d done in my checkered career.

“How drunk are you?” Joanne asked, noticing that I wasn’t my usual voluble self.

“Not very,” I replied. Not enough.

“Have I misread? Are you not interested?”

“Uh…No, I’m interested. I’m…I find you a very attractive woman and I want to—” I broke off, thinking aloud, always a dangerous thing for me to do. “I’m confused…” Boy, was I ever. “What about Alex?” I seized to slow events down.

“She can join us or I won’t tell her,” Joanne answered.

“Oh.” So much for Alex. Where was monogamy when I needed it to make a decision for me?

Then Joanne kissed me. Oh, God, did she kiss me. Hard and penetrating, riveting my whole body to the spot. Thinking, hard before, became impossible. Concentration was spent on the press of her lips against mine, the hard curves of her tongue playing in my mouth.

Then, for the second time of this fickle summer night, someone screamed. It had to be a garter snake, I told myself, cursing inwardly.

The moment broken, our kiss subsided, then stopped. The scream didn’t.

“I’ve always wanted you,” I blurted out, too disconcerted by the second interruption to be cautious, to keep desire and need suitably hidden.

“Yeah, me too,” Joanne responded to my honesty.

“Got to go,” I said, turning from her, trying to locate the exact direction of the scream.

“Behind you,” she replied.

For the second time that evening I took off across the yard running. I quickly left Joanne, in her high heels, behind. I raced toward the area of the woods where the sound seemed to come from. Someone must have gone down the path near the stream, I thought as I pounded in that direction.

Suddenly a figure burst from the forest, stumbling in her haste. I ran toward her. It was Cordelia’s…what was her name? Nina. I caught up with her and grabbed her by the shoulders. She looked terrified.

“What is it?” I demanded.

She just shook her head, her mouth moving but no words came out.

“It’s okay,” I said, trying to calm her. “What happened?”

“Oh, God,” she sobbed, taking a deep breath.

I put my arms around her and held her. Whatever she had seen in the forest, even if it was a garter snake, had badly frightened her. The only thing to do was hold her for a minute, until she could speak. She shuddered against me.

“Oh, my God,” she repeated. “She’s dead.”

“Who?” I demanded.

She shook her head, sobbing.

“Who?” I demanded again.

“In the woods,” she gasped out. “I don’t know…I wanted to see the moon…”

“Where?”

“I dropped my flashlight somewhere near…” she said, pointing toward the path.

I nodded and let go of her. I could hear other voices across the lawn, coming this way. Nina would be taken care of. I hurried off in the direction she had indicated. I didn’t have a flashlight, but there was moonlight and I knew the woods. Whoever was there might be hurt and need help.

I ran into the forest, calling out, hoping whoever it was might hear me. The path was a dim gray ribbon against the charcoal of the wood. Only the common sounds of the night answered my calls. I saw a faint glow down the path. The dropped flashlight, from the look of it. I headed for it.

No one was visible in the dull glow of the flashlight. I picked it up, holding still, hoping to hear something, a groan, perhaps the deep breathing of a woman. I heard nothing. Maybe Nina hadn’t dropped the flashlight very close to whoever she saw. It was a small one and gave off only a dim amber light. I searched around with the beam. Nothing.

I suddenly wondered if someone had played a sick joke on Nina. Nothing that terrified another person like that could be funny, I thought angrily.

I moved off the path into the woods. The beam of light seemed even more feeble against the dark solid trees. I stepped cautiously through the pine needles and underbrush. I still saw nothing. I walked further into the trees, circling around a thick oak trunk. Only dark shadows and brown leaves appeared in the pencil of light. I turned slowly around, having to stare intently to make out the shapes outlined by the dim light.

Something caught my peripheral vision, at my feet, only a few inches away.

It was a hand, the pale flesh glowing visibly against the dark brown of the pine needle carpet. The arm was flung out as if reaching for my legs. With the light I followed the arm to the torso, then the face.

Her eyes seemed to blink.

Then I felt the bile rise in my throat. No wonder Nina was terrified. Ants were crawling out from under her eyelids. Insects scurried away from my light.

I stepped hurriedly away, out of reach of that grasping hand.

The light, which at first just showed her form, now revealed the ravages of a warm summer night. Some creature had nibbled on her outstretched hand, dainty chunks of flesh were missing from the palm.

I jerked the flashlight off her, then abruptly back, afraid the grasping hand would come closer while I wasn’t looking.

A dry heave shook my body. I took a deep breath to drive it away. Then I wondered if I was smelling the damp humus or the faint odor of human decay. I almost retched again.

“Joanne!” I suddenly yelled, to remind myself I wasn’t here alone in these grisly woods. “Joanne! I’m over here. Follow my voice!”

“Micky,” she answered from somewhere that seemed very far away.

“Yeah. This way. Follow the path until you see my light.”

I looked at the unknown woman, left in desolate death. She had to be dead, I thought. Would insects devour living flesh? The idea of touching her, brushing off ants to feel for a pulse nauseated me. She has to be dead, I told myself again.

“Micky, where are you?” Joanne called, closer this time.

“Here. Over here.”

I didn’t recognize the woman. She wasn’t one of the guests, I was sure of that. With a jolt, I realized that I had been at almost this same spot earlier in the evening, when I had walked in the woods. Then I remembered the eyes that I had been sure were watching me.

“Joanne!” I shouted, suddenly afraid to be alone in the dim light with only a corpse for company. “Joanne, can you see my light yet? I’m over here.”

“On my way. I see you,” she answered, responding to my fear.

I could hear her coming through the leaves. Another light joined mine, then Joanne was beside me.

“Oh, Jesus,” she said when she saw the body. She moved quickly and professionally, kneeling next to the woman to feel for a pulse. Then just as quickly she stood up, shaking her head.

“She’s dead,” I said, not really a question.

“For a while,” Joanne answered, standing back beside me.

“I couldn’t…touch her,” I whispered, ashamed of my cowardice, “to find out…”

“You didn’t need to. If she were alive those animal bites would be bleeding. She’s been beyond our help for a while now.”

“I guess.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“Joanne?” I heard Alex’s voice off somewhere on the path.

“Alex. Don’t come here!” Joanne called to her. “Stay where you are.”

“Are you okay?” Alex asked.

“Yeah. Just stay away,” she yelled, not anger, but protection in her voice. “The police have to be called,” Joanne added to me.

“Of course. I’ll go tell Emma.”

“You can’t cover this up. I know that Emma Auerbach’s your friend and that a dead body on her property on this night is going to cause a lot of—”

“Joanne,” I cut her off, “the police will be called. Emma deserves the courtesy of hearing about it before they are, not after, that’s all. We can’t do anything for…her.” I indicated the body.