[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
. Thatcher s anger flared and he responded, without thinking, No, I don t. Griggs waited.After a few seconds he said, Are you sayingthat you don t own a gun? Thatcher then remembered the Bushmaster and blanched.Hetried to shake the fogginess from his head and said, I mean, yes.Well& sort of& I mean, I guess, yeah I own one.But I ve nevereven fired it.I was just& I was& He sighed heavily and sat backdejected.This was not going well.He wiped his tired eyes.V'Mother seemed to sense my anger and frustration.She retreatedto my guest bedroom with her luggage in tow, after announcing shewould be staying overnight.I was exhausted.My whole being seemed to droop with theweight of the loss of my two best friends and the guilt of turningThatcher in.I slumped onto my couch and let the world spin aroundme.In my head, recrimination ebbed and flowed.After a few minutes, Mom padded across the hardwood floors,wrapped in a terry-cloth robe.She carried her makeup kit under herarm. I m going to take a shower, she said, as if the only thing thatmattered was cleanliness. You should decide what you re going towear to the funeral. A blank expression covered my face.I asked, You know aboutMarco? I know, she said, and spun on her heel, her slippers slappingthe hardwoods as she marched toward the restroom. Muggy called. When she reached the bathroom, she leaned against the doorframe and said, You think I d come all this way without an invitationif it weren t an emergency? She stepped into the bathroom andclosed the door firmly." 200 " BLUEMuggy (Margaret) Padilla had been Mom s best friend sincegrade school.The two of them were raised on adjacent farms in theeast New Mexico desert.Together, they comprised the entire 1953graduating class of Shady, New Mexico.After graduation, Momheaded to Las Cruces and New Mexico State University, where shemet my dad.Muggy followed her brother Buddy to Southwest TexasState in San Marcos, where she met Marco s dad, Paulo.Through the years the two women had monitored each other slives with an intensity bordering on insanity.They were each other smaid of honor and were in the delivery room together for my birth,then Marco s fourteen days later.In the years since, their friendship had survived the rigors ofliving miles apart, the death of Paulo, and the varied frustrations oftwo lives diverging in separate directions Mom s more and moreconservative, Muggy s steadfastly, stridently liberal.After Paulo sdeath in the late eighties, Marco was sent to stay with my familywhile Mom traveled to Texas to stay with Muggy while she pulledherself together. Marco and I became fast friends after discovering our mutualsexual orientation and shared reluctance to explain things to ourfamilies.After graduation, Marco and I decided to attend the Universityof Texas together.Muggy and Mom were ecstatic.Personally, I havealways suspected their excitement resulted more from the realizationthe situation would lead to more chances for interaction than fromhappiness their children would not be alone in college.Regardless, Marco and I remained close.A few years later,we would run into Danny and the troupe would be complete.Mystomach lurched at the thought of my two dead friends, and an edgyemptiness began to gnaw at the pit of my stomach.Of course Mom would be the first person Muggy called afterMarco s death.I should have expected it.The shower kicked on and I lifted my tired body from thecouch.Wearily, I shuffled to the bedroom and threw open my closet.I flipped through slacks and shirts and hanging bags until I locatedmy black Bill Blass suit.I tugged it out of the suit bag, laid it on" 201 " RUSS GREGORYthe bed, and turned to stare at my reflection in the wall mirror.Darkcircles surrounded my eyes, and my face looked drawn and tired.Isat on the bed and ran my fingers through my hair.What was I goingto do now?V'When we pulled into the parking lot at the Weed-Corley-FishFuneral Home, Mom took Muggy s hand and led her gently inside.I waited in the car, letting them go in together alone.Muggy hadbeen distraught.I was hurting too.And I didn t feel like I couldshare my feelings.I didn t want to bottle them up inside, but I didn tknow any way to express what I was feeling around Muggy.True to form, Mom was preoccupied with Muggy.I could readit on her face: There is nothing as bad as the suffering of a motherwho has lost a child.Maybe not, I thought bitterly, but try losing your two bestfriends in two days and watching the police carry off the love ofyour life.Add in the guilt of being the one to turn him in, along with thepossibility that he may be a cold-blooded mass murderer.I nearly bolted from the car when Jim Avery pulled up in hisred Toyota Highlander. Matt, he said, opening his car door. I m so sorry aboutMarco.Are you okay? No, I said, fighting to control my emotions.Jim stepped close and, as we hugged, he murmured soft wordsof encouragement.I tried to explain the entire situation. It s not justMarco.It s Danny too and Thatcher. He looked at me with a puzzled expression. What s wrongwith Danny and Thatcher? Danny s dead, Thatcher was arrested. I tried to make myvoice flat and emotionless. What? I nodded slowly. Wait, he stammered. I don t get it.Danny s dead? I nodded again." 202 " BLUE How did he die, I mean? Are you saying Thatcher murderedMarco and Danny too? I don t believe it. I shook my head. I don t either& I mean, I don t think so, Imean& I hope not. My voice began to crack and I worked to chokeback a sob.A single tear rolled down my cheek.The parking lot was beginning to fill.Carloads of mournersclad in dark colors shuffled in twos and threes toward the funeralparlor [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl matkasanepid.xlx.pl
. Thatcher s anger flared and he responded, without thinking, No, I don t. Griggs waited.After a few seconds he said, Are you sayingthat you don t own a gun? Thatcher then remembered the Bushmaster and blanched.Hetried to shake the fogginess from his head and said, I mean, yes.Well& sort of& I mean, I guess, yeah I own one.But I ve nevereven fired it.I was just& I was& He sighed heavily and sat backdejected.This was not going well.He wiped his tired eyes.V'Mother seemed to sense my anger and frustration.She retreatedto my guest bedroom with her luggage in tow, after announcing shewould be staying overnight.I was exhausted.My whole being seemed to droop with theweight of the loss of my two best friends and the guilt of turningThatcher in.I slumped onto my couch and let the world spin aroundme.In my head, recrimination ebbed and flowed.After a few minutes, Mom padded across the hardwood floors,wrapped in a terry-cloth robe.She carried her makeup kit under herarm. I m going to take a shower, she said, as if the only thing thatmattered was cleanliness. You should decide what you re going towear to the funeral. A blank expression covered my face.I asked, You know aboutMarco? I know, she said, and spun on her heel, her slippers slappingthe hardwoods as she marched toward the restroom. Muggy called. When she reached the bathroom, she leaned against the doorframe and said, You think I d come all this way without an invitationif it weren t an emergency? She stepped into the bathroom andclosed the door firmly." 200 " BLUEMuggy (Margaret) Padilla had been Mom s best friend sincegrade school.The two of them were raised on adjacent farms in theeast New Mexico desert.Together, they comprised the entire 1953graduating class of Shady, New Mexico.After graduation, Momheaded to Las Cruces and New Mexico State University, where shemet my dad.Muggy followed her brother Buddy to Southwest TexasState in San Marcos, where she met Marco s dad, Paulo.Through the years the two women had monitored each other slives with an intensity bordering on insanity.They were each other smaid of honor and were in the delivery room together for my birth,then Marco s fourteen days later.In the years since, their friendship had survived the rigors ofliving miles apart, the death of Paulo, and the varied frustrations oftwo lives diverging in separate directions Mom s more and moreconservative, Muggy s steadfastly, stridently liberal.After Paulo sdeath in the late eighties, Marco was sent to stay with my familywhile Mom traveled to Texas to stay with Muggy while she pulledherself together. Marco and I became fast friends after discovering our mutualsexual orientation and shared reluctance to explain things to ourfamilies.After graduation, Marco and I decided to attend the Universityof Texas together.Muggy and Mom were ecstatic.Personally, I havealways suspected their excitement resulted more from the realizationthe situation would lead to more chances for interaction than fromhappiness their children would not be alone in college.Regardless, Marco and I remained close.A few years later,we would run into Danny and the troupe would be complete.Mystomach lurched at the thought of my two dead friends, and an edgyemptiness began to gnaw at the pit of my stomach.Of course Mom would be the first person Muggy called afterMarco s death.I should have expected it.The shower kicked on and I lifted my tired body from thecouch.Wearily, I shuffled to the bedroom and threw open my closet.I flipped through slacks and shirts and hanging bags until I locatedmy black Bill Blass suit.I tugged it out of the suit bag, laid it on" 201 " RUSS GREGORYthe bed, and turned to stare at my reflection in the wall mirror.Darkcircles surrounded my eyes, and my face looked drawn and tired.Isat on the bed and ran my fingers through my hair.What was I goingto do now?V'When we pulled into the parking lot at the Weed-Corley-FishFuneral Home, Mom took Muggy s hand and led her gently inside.I waited in the car, letting them go in together alone.Muggy hadbeen distraught.I was hurting too.And I didn t feel like I couldshare my feelings.I didn t want to bottle them up inside, but I didn tknow any way to express what I was feeling around Muggy.True to form, Mom was preoccupied with Muggy.I could readit on her face: There is nothing as bad as the suffering of a motherwho has lost a child.Maybe not, I thought bitterly, but try losing your two bestfriends in two days and watching the police carry off the love ofyour life.Add in the guilt of being the one to turn him in, along with thepossibility that he may be a cold-blooded mass murderer.I nearly bolted from the car when Jim Avery pulled up in hisred Toyota Highlander. Matt, he said, opening his car door. I m so sorry aboutMarco.Are you okay? No, I said, fighting to control my emotions.Jim stepped close and, as we hugged, he murmured soft wordsof encouragement.I tried to explain the entire situation. It s not justMarco.It s Danny too and Thatcher. He looked at me with a puzzled expression. What s wrongwith Danny and Thatcher? Danny s dead, Thatcher was arrested. I tried to make myvoice flat and emotionless. What? I nodded slowly. Wait, he stammered. I don t get it.Danny s dead? I nodded again." 202 " BLUE How did he die, I mean? Are you saying Thatcher murderedMarco and Danny too? I don t believe it. I shook my head. I don t either& I mean, I don t think so, Imean& I hope not. My voice began to crack and I worked to chokeback a sob.A single tear rolled down my cheek.The parking lot was beginning to fill.Carloads of mournersclad in dark colors shuffled in twos and threes toward the funeralparlor [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]