Time of Death

Misty came and rubbed up against Ren’s legs. ‘Aw, but I’m not totally alone,’ said Ren. ‘Come on. Let me show you around.’

Misty clung to Ren’s side as she gave her a tour of the house. It was 3,500 square feet; sixteen rooms over four floors. She kept glancing down at Misty.

‘I put too much faith in your vibes,’ said Ren. ‘I have to accept that your reactions are not gospel. It’s not all about you.’ She kneeled down in front of her and rubbed her ears. ‘Even though, really, it is. You are way too cute.’

They got to the bedroom Ren used to stay in as a child. She looked down at the carpet – rose pink, deep and fluffy.

I miss carpet. Carpet has to come back.

Ren took off her boots and socks and walked barefoot across the room. Annie had left the bedside lamps on; warm light through pink pleated shades. The bed was white wrought iron, covered in a faded pink and gray floral quilt. There were two green pillows thrown on it and an indentation where someone had been sitting. When Ren moved closer she saw why. Her old teddy bear – adopted from Annie – was tucked between the two pillows. Huggy Bear with the stripy legs. Annie must have sat down to make him comfortable. Ren smiled. She must know empty beds are not usually my thing.

There was also a single bed and a bed for Misty in the corner. Ren brought up her suitcase and took out the new pajamas she had packed on top. She got ready for bed, then slid under the flannel sheets. She turned off the lamp and the room was lit by the moon. She looked around at one of her favorite places in the world.

This is not a house for one person. It is totally freaking me out. How am I going to get out of this? I’ll die. Annie will be horrified. Where can I go now? My mother will go nuts. Everyone at work will laugh at me. I’ll have to find another house-sitter for Annie. I won’t have time to do that. This is not a house for one person. It is totally freaking me out. How am I going to get out of this …

She picked up the phone and called her brother, Matt.

‘Hey, Renald McDenald,’ he said. ‘How are you? What strange number are you calling me from?’

‘Annie’s.’

‘You’re in?’

‘I am. In my old bed.’

‘Bless your heart,’ said Matt.

‘How are you?’

‘Very in love with my baby-mama.’

‘Aw. How’s she doing?’

‘Thankfully, she’s past the The Exorcism of Emily Rose phase.’

‘Phew.’

‘How has Misty taken to her new digs?’

‘She paused for effect, then entered as though doing me a huge favor.’

‘So … you haven’t answered,’ said Matt. ‘How are you?’

‘Well, apart from a late-breaking freak-out – wonderful.’

‘What were you freaking out about now?’

‘Now: I like that—’

‘But how could someone freak out in Annie’s? Even you?’

‘OK … first of all, there are no limits to where I could freak out. Secondly – remember how huge we thought the house was? Well, it wasn’t just because we were kids. The place is still huge.’

‘Ren, you’re not much bigger than when we were kids. I’ve grown … I might find it very compact.’

‘If you put on two hundred pounds, maybe.’

‘Does Annie still call you Orenda?’

‘Not quite the way you do.’ Matt dropped his r’s.

‘Lucky I have high self-esteem.’

‘Vewwy lucky. And no, she calls me Wen.’

‘When?’

‘Ha. Ha. Do you know what’s on the wall in the living room?’ said Ren. ‘The photo of us outside the zoo. And I’m in that all-in-one short-suit.’

‘Ooh, put together from scraps of other material. Your coat of many colors.’

‘That my mama made for me,’ said Ren. ‘And Jay’s in his freaky pants.’

‘What am I in?’

‘Pain, by the looks of it.’

‘Mom never quite got the cut of a boy’s pants.’

God bless Matt Bryce. He stayed on the phone with Ren for over an hour, listening to everything and saying all the right things. Ren always told Matt that he was who she would be if she was male and sane. Matt always replied, ‘You wish.’

There was something wide-eyed about Matt. Like the world was a constant source of fascination to him. In every story he told, there was a dramatic pause, a revelation he wanted you to feel in the same way that he did. Even bleak observations would be delivered in a positive tone. He would talk about a television show he saw where there was human excrement piled up against a crack-house wall, then pause and say, ‘It wasn’t the shit itself, it was the structural engineering …’

He was two years older than Ren, but sometimes she felt like they were twins.

‘Now,’ said Matt, ‘much as I would love to continue to distract you from your freak-out, I have to go and remove my wife’s shoes. That’s the stage we’re at.’

‘Poor Lauren.’

‘Yes,’ said Matt. ‘My final word is – there’s no need to freak out. You’re in a beautiful house, safe and sound with your dog-from-the-dark-side.’

‘Stop that.’

‘Sleep tight. Call me again if you need me.’

‘Thanks,’ said Ren.

‘And remember one thing …’ He paused. ‘You’re an FBI Agent, you loser.’