Cold in July Read Free

self-defense. He broke in with intent to
rob, took a shot at you. Your gun was legal. He’s a known crook, you’re an
upstanding citizen in the community. We haven’t any reason to suspect you of
anything. It’s over. Except for your gun. We’ll keep it a while, until you get
the No Bill, then we’ll return it. I’ll have an officer take you home.”
    · · ·
    When I got home the policeman who had stayed with Ann nodded
at me and went away with the other officer. I sank down in the living room
chair and looked at the couch. I didn’t think I could ever sit there again. I
determined that tomorrow I would have it carried off and buy a new one. I
wanted to get rid of that bloodied landscape too and have the wall repainted.
Christ, I felt like moving, and would have if I could have afforded it.
    Ann sat on the edge of the chair and put her arm around me.
“You okay?”
    “Okay as I get. Go to bed, honey. I’ll come along.”
    “I’m going to clean up a little… before Jordan gets up.”
    It occurred to me what she meant, the wall, couch and
painting. She just couldn’t put it into words.
    “Is it all right if we do?” I asked. “Evidence and all.
Won’t the police mind?”
    “The officer told me any time we wanted to clean up to go
ahead. They’ve taken photographs, done all they intend to do.”
    “I’ll help.”
     
               · · ·
     
    We got a plastic bucket of warm, soapy water and rubbed the
couch down, threw the painting away, and wiped the wall as clean as we could
get it. The couch was ruined. The blood had soaked into it, turning it dark in
spots, giving the room a faint odor to remind us of what had happened.
    We cleaned up the carpet and put baking soda down to get rid
of the smell of vomit, and it helped a little. When we were finished, I poured
the soapy water into the kitchen sink, watched it swirl darkly down the drain,
tossed away the rags we’d used and sprayed some air freshener about.
    I don’t know why, but the freshener struck me as funny in a
grim kind of way. I kept imagining a commercial for air freshener where the
announcer was saying how it covered up not only the odor of fish and onions,
but blood, brains and vomit as well.
    Ann showered and I washed up in the bathroom sink, feeling
like Lady Macbeth struggling with her damn spot, even though there wasn’t a
drop of blood on me.
    Death in reality certainly wasn’t like television death.
    It was nasty and it smelled and it clung to you like a bad
disease.
    Self-defense or not, I didn’t feel like Dirty Harry. I just
felt bad, worse than I had ever felt in my life.
    “Let’s go to bed,” Ann said. She was stepping out of the
shower and she looked good. Thirty-five years had been kind to her. Her breasts
sagged a little maybe, but the rest of her was nice and the breasts were
nothing to run me off. She was my woman and I loved her, and I knew she was
offering herself to me. I could tell by the way she moved as she pulled the
shower cap off and let her long blond hair fall like a shower of light onto her
shoulders, by the slightly exaggerated stretches and the way she slid the towel
slowly up her long legs and moved it seductively over her damp pubic hair.
    She smiled at me. “We can snuggle, you know?”
    “I’m not really sleepy,” I said stupidly.
    “So, we can snuggle a lot. Sleep later.”
    “We can try that,” I said. “Go ahead, and I’ll be to bed in
a moment. Got a few things to do yet.”
    She finished drying, stepped into her panties, extending her
legs through them nicely. It was almost enough to excite me, even after what
had happened earlier. Almost.
    She put on her robe, kissed me on the cheek and went out of
there with her soft soap scent lingering in the air.
    I took a leak, showered, and brushed my teeth. I put on my
robe, went through the house testing locks on the doors leading outside. They
were all fine except for the jimmied door, of course. I checked the windows
too, and when I