Only a page and a half left in this chapter, so I'll post all of it. My chapters are short, like my attention span.
The bar was beginning to pick up a little, and the evening news was on the television, but I tried to block it out. I even asked Ian to turn it off and he obliged,
“If it were up to me man, I’d throw the fucker out back in the dumpster, but you know Kelly, he thinks it keeps people drinking.” Kelly was his boss and the owner of the bar who you rarely saw unless some money was missing or a fight broke out. I think he spends most of his time trying to figure out where he can get a better looking, more realistic hairpiece. That’s just something I’ll never understand. Maybe it’s because I like to let things just run their course. Or maybe it’s because I still have all my hair left. Either way I think it’s inevitable and you should just let time have it’s way with you.
“So what’s the big deal? You in some kinda trouble? You need some money or something? Don’t tell me you lost your job,” Wesley shouted as I tried to pay attention. “You remember the last time you lost your job I ended up paying your rent for five fucking months. I’m not doing that again. I’d rather you just stay in my spare-
“No man, it’s nothing like that,” I interrupted. I hate interrupting but I didn’t feel like hearing him go on. “Do you remember Abigail?” I whispered.
“Of course I remember her man, she’s the only girl we grew up with who died after high school. And I never got to show her how much I cared,” he chuckled in a really cocky way, like I cared that he wanted, but never got to, bone someone we grew up with who is now dead. What an ass. He can be a real ass sometimes.
Abigail Hartley was every man’s dream. She was something out of Hollywood, sent to make every boy in our county feel a little more inadequate. She had bright red hair that came down just past her shoulders, and eyes that pierced your soul as if she knew you were thinking about her, but wouldn’t dare say. And she couldn’t go anywhere without guys flocking around her. Sometimes I thought she was a celebrity, and in her own way maybe she was. She certainly died a famous death. I can almost see it clearly still. In the weeks after graduation most of our time was spent trying to figure out how to get into bars or panties, or, if you were lucky, both. Abigail worked at the local ice cream parlor, which was pretty popular since it was right across from Lake Steward. July 21st was the hottest day I can ever remember. Maybe it was because it was the middle of summer, or maybe because the idea of real death was burned in my brain for the first time. Tony Marini was Abigail’s boyfriend and he worked at the lake as a lifeguard, and whenever he wasn’t there he was keeping guard on his prize possession. I can’t blame him, but he did get excessive at times. Around 5:00 that afternoon Abigail was getting off work and Wesley and I were walking across the street near the ice cream parlor. As she crossed the street I remember stopping just to watch her walk. Just as suddenly as I stopped, a black Ford pick-up sped by around the corner blinding us with exhaust fumes. The next moment I know I’ll never forget.
After the haze of dust cleared she was gone, as was the Ford. The town didn’t stop buzzing for weeks. It was on the tip of your tongue, and it was so real you could taste it. Nothing like this had ever happened, and everyone was on the lookout for suspicious characters. To me, no one was more suspicious than Tony. He didn’t drive a black Ford pick-up but he seemed like the controlling type who might be crazy enough to kidnap his own girlfriend. The police questioned almost everyone in the area and Tony was the first one on their list. He said he was home eating dinner with his father, and his alibi checked out. Abigail’s body was found near Lake Steward six weeks later. Everyone came to the ceremony except Tony and his father.
“Do you remember ever seeing her face?” I said in Wesley’s ear as I headed back to the bar.
“No,” he replied, “they said the family wouldn’t allow an open casket because of the scars.” The police said the body was badly mutilated, especially the face, so much in fact that they never got a positive I.D. I think that people in town needed the case closed, but the police just wanted everyone to assume it was Abigail. The whole town tried to return to normal, but uneasiness came like a cloud descending. Sometimes I think that everything changed about this town that July. Like it lost its innocence.
“So, what exactly is the point of all this Lenny, I mean this stuff happened years ago. This town doesn’t think about it anymore. I know I don’t,” Wesley stated as he shuffled the ice in his scotch around.
“I saw her today Wesley, that’s the point, I saw her!”
