David Halliday - The Hole

“It would have been helpful.”

“He had the keys to the truck and here I was alone at one o’clock in the morning.”

“How did you know it was one o’clock?”

Miss Kraft looked puzzled.

“You didn’t have your watch,” the detective explained.

Miss Kraft smiled faintly.

“And so you walked home?” the detective asked.

Miss Kraft nodded, then blew her nose into a tissue. “I thought that he would eventually get back up the hill and drop the truck off at my work.

It was a long weekend. I’m not in any trouble, am I?”

“Did you leave the keys in the truck?”

Miss Kraft looked at the detective with a puzzled expression.

“How was he supposed to drop off the truck without the keys?” the detective prompted.

“I told you. Joe had the keys.”

The detective said nothing. He looked at his pad. They’d been drinking at the Zig Zag. That would be easy enough to confirm. She worked at Archer Greene’s Print Shop. The name sounded familiar.

“Am I in a lot of trouble, Detective?”

“You live alone, Miss Kraft?”

“With my mother. I can’t let her find out about this. She’s bedridden.

Turned her ankle last week at the Cloverdale Mall trying on shoes. Things always happen in threes. Why do things always turn out like this for me? Why can’t something good happen for a change?”

“What’s the third thing?” Sam asked.

“The third thing? It hasn’t happened yet. Do you believe in God, Officer?”

“Why do you ask, Miss?”

“If He does exist,” Miss Kraft replied, her jaw clenched in anger, “He has one sick sense of humor.”

“One more question,” the detective said.

“Yes?”

“Why did you leave the passenger door open?” Miss Kraft looked up at the detective with a puzzled expression on her face.

“I didn’t,” she replied.

The Storm

Wiggy and Frank shared a cigarette outside the camera shop. In the distance thunder could be heard. Small bursts of lightning could be seen to the south.

“Shit!” Wiggy cried. “That’s quite a storm headed this way. I don’t want to be caught out tonight. If Terry wants to meet us, he could at least show up. Let me have a puff.”

Frank passed his cigarette to Wiggy.

“Why can’t you buy your own smokes?” Frank asked. “I’m down to my last three. I need them to get to sleep.” Frank had made a ritual of one cigarette and a couple of aspirin to get to sleep each evening.

“Jesus.” Wiggy pointed to the horizon. “Looks like a war’s going on.

Artillery fire. Imagine being out on the lake on a night like this. I hate thunderstorms. When I was a kid lightning struck our house. Came in one end and traveled right through our place. Melted half our appliances. Scared the shit out of us. You could feel it running through the walls like it was alive. I thought the whole house was going to explode.

Do you get depressed?”

“You’re all over the map tonight, man. What has being depressed got to do with anything?” Frank asked.

“Something Johnny asked me. Do you get depressed?” Wiggy asked.

“Everybody does,” Frank responded.

“I thought so too,” Wiggy said, passing the cigarette back to Frank.

“Johnny told me that he never gets depressed. He said the feebleminded get depressed.”

The lights of the camera shop turned off. A minute later the store door opened and Adelle exited. She joined the two boys.

“Terry not here yet?” she asked.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Wiggy asked.

“He’s worried about Cathy.”

“Cathy?” Wiggy asked.

“He’s been trying to get hold of her all day,” Adelle explained. “They were supposed to meet at his place and she never showed up. He phoned her house but her mother said she wasn’t home. She’d gone out someplace with Johnny. That was around noon.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Wiggy cried impatiently. “I ain’t roaming around on a night like this looking for Cathy. We don’t even have a car. Besides, she’s probably at home by now.”

“I’ve got my parents’ car,” Adelle said. “And she’s not at home. I phoned. Her mother sounds pretty worried. Something doesn’t seem right. I don’t trust Johnny. She should have phoned someone by now.”

“What are you saying?” Frank asked.

“She was going to tell Johnny that it was all over,” Adelle explained.

“Who knows how he reacted?”

Wiggy laughed. “Johnny ain’t like that.”

Adelle turned on Wiggy. “How would you know?”

“He ain’t, that’s all,” Wiggy responded. “A guy knows things about another guy.”

“Isn’t getting smacked serious enough?” Adelle said, her voice angry and impatient. “He’s hit her before.”

The sky above the plaza lit up. A few moments later the calm was shattered with thunder.

“Whoa!” Wiggy trembled. “That was close.”

“You’re such a wimp,” Adelle cried. “I keep thinking that Cathy is out there in this storm with that creep.”

“Where are we going to look?” Frank asked.

“Down at the lake,” Adelle responded. “Cathy told me they liked to go down there sometime.”

“To the lake!” Wiggy cried. “That’s like sending troops to the front.

Just look at the sky down there. Nature doesn’t take prisoners. I’ll go down but I ain’t getting out of the car. Our house was struck by lightning once and-”

“We’ve all heard that story before,” Adelle interrupted impatiently.

“Wiggy’s got a point,” Frank added. “Besides, Cathy can take care of herself.”

“You too!” Adelle spat out, jabbing her finger into Frank’s chest. “It’s our friend out there and we’re all going.” She turned to Wiggy.

“Understand?”

“Okay.” Wiggy cowered. “But if you get fried, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Thunder rolled in the distance.

“Look,” Adelle said pointing to the other end of the plaza, “here comes Terry.”

Beaten

As Mary jiggled her keys in the lock of her building’s front door, Hank stepped up behind her. Mary jumped.

“Shit!” she cried. “You scared the life out of me.” Hank smiled. “Give me your keys. I’ll unlock it for you. I dropped in at the Zig Zag. Jack said you’d already left.” Mary handed her keys over to Hank. The effects of the gin made her feel uneasy on her feet. “Where the hell were you all night? I waited. You know how I hate waiting.”

Hank smiled. “That’s not much of a reception.” He took her in his arms and kissed her. “You’ve been drinking.” Mary pushed Hank away. “What the hell did you expect me to be doing? I’m a little drunk and really pissed off.” Hank reached out for her again. “Come to daddy.” Mary relented, falling into Hank’s arms. She let him kiss her again, his hands roaming down the back of her dress and squeezing her ass. She put her arms around his neck as he slowly lifted her dress, his hands moving between her legs.

“You missed me.” He grinned.

Mary moaned. “Let’s go upstairs where the neighbors aren’t watching.”

Hank opened the door and followed Mary up the stairs, slapping her bottom playfully. At the top of the stairs, Mary turned around.

“By rights, I should push you back down,” she giggled, her hand reaching into his trouser pocket. “Seems you missed me too.” Hank took her in his arms.

“Hurry!” Mary said, taking Hank’s hand and leading him through the darkness of the living room toward her bedroom. Someone moaned.

Mary cried out. She turned on the light. Terry lay on the couch, his face bloodied, holding his stomach.

“What…” Mary rushed over to the couch and examined her son.