Shadow Season Read Free Page A

only survive now by cooking and transporting meth.
    There’s one river nearby, ten minutes to the west, which overflows every couple of decades and takes a number of lives. The diners, bars, and hardware stores have newspaper clippings showing the devastation going back to the 1890s. Mud that reached the third-floor rain gutters, dead children stuck in treetops.
    The story goes that three creek beds converged there, giving the area its name, but if you ask why the place isn’t called Three Creeks instead you’ll get no answer.
    St. Val’s is south of the holler, situated in its own valley. The land is lush and beautiful in the summer, set off just far enough to always be considered outside of town.
    The only other guy currently on campus is Roddy Murphy, an off-the-boat Irishman from the north side of Galway. Chief custodian, electrician, snow-removal expert, groundskeeper, and all around fix-it dude with an attitude. As Finn collects his belongings from the classroom, he hears Murphy downstairs dragging equipment across the front walk in preparation for the blizzard.
    Last year around his birthday Murphy got lonely for home and decided to bond with Finn a bit. They spent the night drinking Jameson in Murph’s apartment and Finn learned that drunk Irishmen really do sing“Kathleen.” As Murphy outpaced Finn three to one he got louder and more physical, pounding on Finn’s shoulder and sort of dancing around his living room.
    Halfway through the night Murph admitted that he’d fooled around a bit with a couple of the young wans. He called himself a fookin’ idjit and tried to sound abashed and contemplative. Finn got the distinct sense that Murphy was lying in order to impress him, maybe get Finn to confess his own sins. The next day, Murphy claimed not to remember most of the night. Maybe it was the truth, but it had left Finn feeling a little cagey ever since.
    Carrying his overcoat, Finn makes his way along the empty corridors, the annoying tap of his cane the only sound. He hears it as if someone else is making the noise and finds himself becoming increasingly upset with that person. The silence of the building causes him some anxiety. He relies heavily on noise.
    Judith’s door is open. Before he can knock she says, “Hello, Finn. You really need to cut back on the cologne, dear.”
    Her lips are wet. He can tell by the soft snapping of suction when she parts them. She’s on her feet near the window, where she twists a knob and lowers the volume on the Mahler CD playing. She smokes menthol 120s and the smell is barely present in the office. She’s like a kid hiding her habit from her parents, sneaking a cigarette and blowing smoke out the window.
    He knows she wants to talk. She damn near always wants to talk, always did want to talk, even before this thing with Vi.
    “Judith. I’m glad I caught you before you left.”
    “No need to worry about that,” she says, and he’s convinced she’s depressed, and not just because an empty campus makes everybody depressed.
    “No? Why not?”
    He shouldn’t ask, but she wants to be asked. He’s got to do his part. Sometimes you play the role and sometimes the role plays you.
    Judith Perry is the dean of St. Val’s, an administration wizard and a top-notch science teacher. In the Victorian era she would’ve been called a headmistress and been admired for her hard-edged dignity. The girls think she’s overly rigid and demanding because she’s repressed and miserable. Finn thinks they’re not far off. She has the voice of an exacting, sharp woman that occasionally softens with plaintiveness. She takes tiny but solid steps. He has shaken her hand only once, during their initial meeting when she hired him three years ago.
    Since he lost his sight, his mind craves details. If they can’t be provided by his other senses, his brain fills them in. The surgeons told him this is normal. The shrinks tell him not to worry, this is normal. It doesn’t fuckin’ feel