The Last Handful of Clover - Book 2: Gifts Both Light and Dark

2.48 Nervous as Cats

June 14, 10:02 am

It was only a few minutes after Howard Gunderson had left, and already Pil regretted that he hadn't done something. Anything. Keith and Michelle sat across from each other in the living room, and Pil lingered in the archway, staring at them as if that alone would help him understand what had just happened.

Michelle had a towel that she'd grabbed from the kitchen, and was attempting to dry her hair, but didn't seem to care about her soaked shirt. None of them spoke, but Michelle kept glancing at Keith in a way that made Pil increasingly uneasy. Finally, his patience snapped.

"I don't know what kind of spell came over you both," he said, "But he's gone now, and you both need to snap out of it. And for God's sake, stop looking at each other like you're sharing some kind of secret."

Michelle finally looked away from Keith and caught Pil's eye. It looked like she wanted to say something, but after several seconds, words were still beyond her.

"I swear," Pil said, shaking his head and pacing back and forth across the living room. "I should have tackled him, tied him up, and held him until the cops got here."

"Why didn't you?" Michelle asked. Pil shot her a glance that was meant to wither her, until he realized she was being totally sincere. "I'm serious, Pil. Why didn't you? When I heard you come out the door, I was absolutely certain that you were going to floor the guy."

"So was I," Keith added. He was once again wrapped in his blanket, but whatever cloud had been in his eyes less than an hour ago was now totally gone. He was absolutely clear-eyed and sitting up on the couch as if his entire body was alert. "I'm with Michelle. What was it that stopped you from taking him down?"

"I'm not sure," Pil said, slumping heavily against the door frame. His head barely cleared the archway, and his bulk blocked the door almost completely. He realized he was staring down into the very spot where Richard had died, and the image of all that blood roared back to him. "I wish I knew. But you two looked like you were having some kind of... epiphany."

"I guess that's as good a word as any," Michelle said, tossing the towel onto the coffee table.

"And by the time I realized what you were going to do... that you were going to give him clothes... it was too late."

"Oh, come on Pil, that's bull," Keith said, pulling the blanket off his shoulders. "You could have stopped everything if you wanted to. You need to admit it. You felt something too."

Keith was right, of course. Pil had been almost as enraptured by the moment as they were. But unlike the two of them, now that the moment had passed, he had his wits back about him.

"Okay, fine. I'll admit it. It was... weird. But it's over, and we all need to recognize that what we did was wrong. Jesus Christ, Keith, this is the guy that killed Richard! How can you forget that?"

"You think I've forgotten?" Keith asked, and the pained expression on his face made Pil turn away.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice softer. "That's not what I meant. But you seem to be under some kind of spell when it comes to Howard Gunderson. Both of you are."

The room fell silent, while Michelle went out, and back toward the kitchen. When she returned, she had one of Richard's old shirts. It must have been one that was in the laundry basket. One they didn't give to Howard Gunderson.

"I don't think we were under a spell, Pil," Michelle finally said, unselfconsciously throwing off her wet shirt and putting on the dry one. "It wasn't something magic. But it was very strange, and I think we were all three in shock. You seem to be going into denial about how surreal it was. Maybe we'll all get to denial, eventually. But right now, I'm still just trying to understand it."