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Calvin's insides felt as if they'd been wrung out and stretched to dry. Matty had always been a bad liar. Even with his best effort, some slight change in expression gave him away. Calvin saw no hint of it now. |
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While Matty ate, Calvin stepped outside, his heart pounding that he'd spot something that would make it all real. |
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It was a newborn spring morning. The sun was warm, the grass sparkling. The asphalt was clean. He walked down the driveway to the street. Just a few leaves and pebbles. He returned to the backyard. The crows fluttered off as he approached. Matty's pitching net stood near the pool, beside it, a bucket of hardballs. Something white at the pool's edge caught his eye. A white tube sock with blue stripes at the top. Matty's. It probably blew off the line. The pool water was green with algae. |
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At the far end of the pool, something floated in the bright scum. He walked around the edge to the far side. The usual backyard flotsambeetles, twigs, leaves and an old hardball from when Matty overthrew the pitching net. Calvin picked up the long-handled net and scooped it out. |
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A moment's numbness as recognition settled in. No hardball. Daisy's head. One eye missing, the other frozen in fright. |
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"Hey, Dad, we're going to be late." Terry and Matty were getting in the car. |
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Calvin would never be able to understand how he managed to affect casualness, to keep from screamingmaybe some kind of autopilot kicking in when the mind shut down. But in one motion he flung the net like a lacrosse stick, sending the cat's head into the Magog Woods. |
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Matty sat in the back. He wore sunglasses. "What were you doing back there?" |
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Calvin glanced at him in the rearview mirror. Twin circles of black stared at him. |
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