Letter to Belinda (46 page)

She knew that Lennie was not a stray dog, but facts were facts:

Lennie did not need to be around when the police started asking questions.

If
I
did
send
him
away,
she thought,
it
wouldn’t
be
forever,
because
he
is
dying.
I
could
send
him
away
for
a
nice
‘vacation’,
and
keep
him
there
until
the
tumor
kills
him.
Then
the
police
would
never
get
to
question
him,
but
because
of
the
circumstantial
evidence
found
here,
he
would
be
blamed
for
the
murder.
And
then,
there
will
be
nothing
pointed
toward
me.
If
there
is
any
question
about
where
he
got
the
money
to
go
on
‘vacation’,
I
can
say
I
gave
it
to
him,
in
exchange
for
him
doing
chores
for
me.
I
can
say
I
knew
he
was
sick,
and
wanted
to
do
something
nice
for
him
before
he
died.
But
of
course,
I
will
be
shocked
to
hear
that
he
might
have
something
to
do
with
Judge
Rosewood’s
disappearance.
Hmmm.
Maybe
I
should
have
hidden
the
bloody
chain
saw
I
used
to
cut
up
the
judge,
somewhere
around
Lennie’s
house,
instead
of
sending
it
to
the
land-fill.

Yes,
I
need
to
send
him
as
far
away
as
possible.
India
or
Bangladesh
would
be
a
nice
obscure
place
to
send
him.
But
a
passport
would
take
six
weeks
to
get
for
him,
and
Mrs.
Rosewood
is
due
back
from
Europe
in
11
days.
So
out
of
the
country
is
not
an
option.
What
about
Oregon
or
Washington?

“Miranda, what’cha thinking about?”

“What makes you think I’m thinking about anything, Lennie?”

“I can tell you’re thinking about something real hard, by your ‘spression.”

“Lennie, have you ever wanted to travel? To see the world?”

“What for?”

“Just so you can say that you have been somewhere before you die.”

“I been to Birmingham.”

“No, Birmingham is nothing! I mean traveling to exotic places, like California, or Oregon, or even to Seattle, Washington.”

“I don’t know nobody in Seattle, Washington.”

“That’s the beauty of traveling to new places! You get to make new friends.”

“I don’t need no new friends. I got you.”

“But if you go to Washington, you can make new friends. You might find friends that you like better than me.”

“Naw, I don’t think so. Why? You goin’ to Washington?”

“No, not right off. But I will come see you after you get there.”

“Why don’t you just go with me?”

“I’ve got some things I have to do, before I go there.”

“Well, I can wait, and then we can go together!”

“No, Lennie. You need to leave right away. As soon as possible.”

“You wanting to get rid of me, ain’t you?”

“No, it’s not like that, Lennie.”

“You’re afraid I’ll say the wrong thing to the police, huh?”

“Well Lennie, you did admit yourself that you sometimes say the wrong thing. That you mean to say one thing, but it comes out meaning something else.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m stoopid.”

“No, you’re not stupid! You are just mentally challenged, and your vocabulary limits your ability to express things like you should. Therefore, it is best that you avoid situations in which you could face difficult questions.”

“Yeah, because I’m stoopid! That’s what I’d call somebody like me, is stoopid!”

“Well, however you prefer to see yourself, you don’t need to be around when the police start asking questions, so where would you like to go?”

“I told you, I don’t want to go nowhere. I like it right here in Kellerman. The Doc says I ain’t got long to live no how, so I want to live all my life right here!”

“Okay Lennie, I respect that, because we are friends. But maybe we should change our plan then.”

“What plan?”

“In case the police want to question you about the Judge. Here is the new plan. You just say nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“That’s right, nothing. Pretend that you don’t even have the ability to speak, or understand their questions. Just don’t say anything.”

“But what if . . .”

“No, there are no exceptions. Pretend that you are deaf and mute. Don’t tell them anything. Not even your name!”

“So you don’t want me to help the police at all?”

“No, not at all.”

Lennie looked confused.

“Lennie, look at me! This is very important. You can’t say anything at all to the police. I know, you have always been taught that the police are there to protect you, but in this case, the police are our enemy.”

“No, that ain’t right. I know better than that.”

“Lennie, do you want me to be your friend, or do you want to be friends with the police?”

“Wasn’t you friends with the Judge?”

“Yes, in a way.”

“I see how he ended up. When I die, you gonna’ cut me up too?”

She was aghast at the very thought, but the pause was enough to cast doubt over whatever answer she gave, so she said nothing, and the silence was heavy.

“When this here tumor kills me, like the Doc says, are you gonna’ cut me up and put me in the freezer?”

“No, no! Of course not!”

“Then why did you do the judge like . . .”

“I told you why I cut up the Judge! You don’t remember me telling you that?”

“Naw, I guess I forgot.”

“See? That is what I’m talking about! You can’t remember things like you should. That’s why you need to let me send you somewhere far away, for a nice vacation. That way, the police can’t ask you hard questions!”

“Well, I don’t want to leave home. I ain’t goin’ nowhere!”

“Lennie, . . .”

“But don’t you worry ‘bout nothin’, Miranda! I won’t say nothin’ to the police!” Lennie got on his bike, and pushed off down the driveway toward home, leaving Miranda frustrated. After going a few feet, he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “Miranda?”

“Yes, Lennie?”

“I want you to know somethin’.”

“What’s that, Lennie?”

“I may be stoopid an’ all, but I know one thing for sure.”

“What?” she said impatiently.

“I know that I love you!”

“Oh Lennie, don’t complicate things by going down
that
road! Just go!”

Lennie peddled off in silence, leaving her to wonder what in the world she was going to do with him. As she headed home herself, creeping through the dark forest, she couldn’t help thinking how perfect and convenient it would be if that tumor killed him sometime in the next 11 days, so he wouldn’t be around when the police started asking questions. But oh no! She knew
that
wouldn’t happen! He wouldn’t accommodate her by dying in a convenient manner. He would live long enough to tell the police anything they want to know, to put her in prison. That was just her luck! And on top of that, now he says he
loves
her! Like
that
phrase hasn’t come back to bite her over the years! For her,
I
love
you
had been the kiss of death in all her relationships.

She had a horrible thought.

Why
don’t
I
just
kill
Lennie,
and
make
it
look
like
an
accident?

The very thought of that, left a bad taste in her mouth.

That’s
absurd!
I
am
no
murderer!
I
didn’t
kill
the
judge,
that
was
just
an
unfortunate
circumstance.
But
now
to
cover
it
up,
I’m
considering
killing
Lennie?
That’s
crazy!

But it certainly would uncomplicated things. Along with the circumstantial evidence she had already planted to incriminate him, there wouldn’t be any other conclusion for the police to draw. But what would be Lennie’s motive to have killed the Judge?
Who
cares,
She thought.
And
would
it
really
be
murder
to
kill
Lennie?
After
all,
he
is
dying
anyway.
By
killing
him,
I
could
save
him
from
a
lot
of
pain
and
suffering
later,
as
the
tumor
starts
to
snuff
out
his
life.
It
could
be
seen
as
a
mercy
killing.
Once
he
starts
having
excruciatingly
painful
headaches,
he
will
probably
be
considering
suicide
anyway,
to
stop
the
pain.
I
would
just
be
helping
him
out.

No, murder was still murder, and it had a bad taste. But the more she tasted the thought, the more the taste grew on her.
No,
I
shouldn’t
even
be
thinking
such
a
thing!
It’s
wrong!

As she was emerging from the woods, into her own yard, she heard a noise from the highway. The loud screech of rubber on asphalt, as someone slammed on their brakes. Then there was a sickening ‘thud’, followed by a crunching sound.

“Oh my God!” she said out loud, “Someone hit Lennie!”

*     *     *

As they neared Montevallo, Cory pulled over to the side of the road.

“Okay, Chris, it’s show time!”

“Yeah,” Joey said, “Into the casket!”

They piled out of the truck cab, and opened the lid to the casket, and the still mummy-wrapped Chris climbed in. “Remember,” Cory reminded him, “Be still and don’t say a thing until we get to McDonald’s. You’ll hear us outside talking, and when we open the lid, that’s when you do your thing!”