Inconstant Moon - Default Font Edition

by Laurel L. Russwurm

  “It's that intelligence thing. I think she was bright once but hasn't actually had to use her brain in so long she's forgotten how. It's easier to let everyone do for you than to do it yourself.”

  “She seems to enjoy it.”

  “I'd expect it seems fun at first, like getting something for nothing. But for me it'd get old awfully fast. There's a rush you get from doing it yourself. First time I had a poem published in the paper I was eleven. It was cool, but it wouldn't have been as good if somebody else had helped me, or heaven forbid, written it for me.”

  chapter 57 . . .

  Nick comes in and grins at the sight of the computer club members glued to the television. He can't believe it. They aren't even watching streaming video, they're watching regular cable TV.

  Some computer geeks.

  He crosses over to sit with Kate.

  The others keep watching the program, but Nick and Kate cuddle with their heads together, talking quietly.

  “How was your night class?”

  “Not too bad, most of the kids are coming along nicely. Only a couple in doubt at this point. One in serious doubt.”

  “Uh oh, what did she do this time?”

  “They were supposed to be writing up their dissection notes because he's going to be marking them this weekend.”

  “Who's going to be marking them?”

  “Shhh. Yes, it will be grunt work. You know how it goes.”

  “Yeah, I do. So tell me, what did she do?”

  “She hadn't actually bothered to do a dissection.”

  “You're kidding. Why not?”

  “Tamara missed it too, but she came in and made it up.”

  “After one of your famous chats?”

  “Hey, I just gave her a bit of brotherly advice.”

  “Tamara's shaping up so it's just Barbie in the doo doo?”

  Adam hears Barbie's name, realizing with an uncomfortable shock that Nick is talking about ‘his’ Barbie.

  Although he continues to face the television set, Adam's real attention focuses on the quiet discussion on the sofa.

  “You know, I did offer her some re-scheduling choices but she never showed,” Nick continues. “That's it. So I didn't expect her to show up tonight. I mean, what's she going to write? She didn't do the procedure, game over. But she's making notes during the Q and A, sitting by Tamara. It's nuts to crib from Tamara because she's barely hanging on. I couldn't believe Barbie's . . . audacity.”

  “Not trying at all?”

  “She doesn't think rules apply to her. There always has to be a special dispensation, just for her. She was trying to catch up, not by applying herself but by slapping together info she's picked up from the others. That's what she wants to hand in.”

  “That's crazy. How can she hand in notes on a procedure she hasn't done?”

  “I don't know where her head is, but it's a class, so I'm not gonna talk to her until after, right? Anyway we're done the review and class breaks up so most of them are heading out. All except Barbie. Tamara looked like she was gonna wait too, but Barbie waved her out.”

  “I almost feel sorry for her.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “It's not hard. You have to realize honey, it's because she's so pretty. People have probably been giving her things and doing for her her whole life. That's just how her world works. This is probably the first time anyone has expected her to actually do the work. I don't get why she just doesn't go to Hollywood or something.”

  “Probably because the serious competition there would be on her looks. Katie, you are so forgiving. Wait til you hear the rest before giving her a free pass babe. I'm gathering up my stuff and loading everything on the cart, when all of a sudden I can just tell she's coming up behind me.”

  “Like Freddie Kruger, right.”

  “Shhh . . . everyone's watching House.”

  “So what happened next?”

  “You've seen her, she simpers, you know, in that gushy helpless voice that makes me want to smack her upside the head. She goes, ‘Oh, hi Nick, what a great class, I learned so much. Can we talk?’ so I told her, ‘but you know I'm only a TA.’ ”

  “Oh that's great, hon. What'd she say to that?”

  “She asked me to help her write up her dissection notes.”

  “The girl has chutzpah.”

  Nick shakes his head. “I tried to explain that you have to actually do the dissection to be able to write it up but she doesn't listen, she's telling me about the troubles she has, organizing her schedule.”

  “You know she spends half her life in the woods smoking up with Jose and that crowd, right?” Kate says softly.

  “Of course I know, I can smell it on her whenever I see her after she's cut class. But she can't submit dissection notes without having done the dissection. I mean what's she thinking? So I asked her if she's plans to con other doctors into doing her work for her after she gets her MD? I don't think so.”

  “Oh, sweetie. She threaten to go over your head again?”

  “No, this time she burst into tears and ran out.”

  “Aw, poor thing. What did you do, follow and apologize?”

  “Hardly. I finished packing up. It's late, I'm done, I'm wheeling the cart up the aisle and the door opens.”

  “She came back after the big dramatic exit?”

  “Hey, what else was she gonna do? I didn't follow her. She had to try some other kind of scam.”

  “Uh oh, I'm getting the idea here. What was the scam?”

  “I've shut off most of the lights, so she's back lit, in a halo of light, so it's impossible to miss the shape on the girl.”

  “Oh, poor you, forced to admire perfectly formed nubile college girls.”

  “She gives it the old college try, ‘Please Nick, you could help if you wanted to’. So I asked if she can't keep up now when it's beginner stuff, how she's gonna get by when things get difficult?”

  “She lets the door swing closed and she comes in and I realize it isn't just fluffier hair. She's unbuttoned her blouse and it was, uh, painfully obvious that she'd taken off her bra.”

  “Sounds like it got your attention.”

  “Wait for it, I haven't got to the best part. She brushes up against me and tells me I look tired and we could help each other out. Only now she's talking in a breathy Marilyn kind of voice.”

  “Not your type?”

  “You know better than that, darlin'. Here's me trying to push the cart away and she's licking her lips and trying to do that slutty girl pout. It was actually kind of funny.”

  “Not as slinky as Thirteen?”

  Nick nods at the actress on screen. “Not a prayer.”

  “No sale, huh?”

  “You know better than that. So I tell her, ‘Look that might have worked in high school, but it will not fly here. You need to think seriously about changing majors because the only way to get an MD is to earn it and the only way to earn it is to work for it.’ Then she starts buttoning her cleavage back up and pfffft, Marilyn has been replaced by the Snow Queen.”

  The end credit percussion signals the end of the House episode. Nick glances up and sees that the computer club has dropped all pretense of watching TV in favour of his story.

  “That really happened?” Jake asks.

  “Sadly, yes.” Holding up his hands, “Look guys, I'd appreciate it if what I've said to Kate doesn't go any further. It's privileged TA stuff. I didn't realize I was telling everyone.”

  “Don't worry about it, we'll never tell,” smiles Krystal.

  Oscar says, “Your soap opera was better than House.”

  Adam's ordinarily well ordered mind reels chaotically. He needs to get somewhere quiet and think this through. Perhaps the pedestal he has Barbie on is not after all appropriate.

  chapter 58 . . .

  Cigarette smoke, perfume and alcohol waft off Boris as he stumbles through the common room on the way to bed but he's irritated by a nearly subliminal humming noise.
>
  He thinks for a moment, blearily trying to recall which way he needs to go to find his bed. He shakes his head, but the annoying hum doesn't go away. Then he realizes some idiot hasn't switched the TV off.

  Boris is stumbling over to the large screen TV when he bumps the corner of the blue sectional. A snore gets his attention, and he looks down to see Eric and Amelia curled up together, popcorn debris and chocolate wrappers scattered all around.

  Boris is happy for Eric. About time he got over Elsie.

  Grabbing the afghan from the red sofa, Boris brings it back to carefully drape over the sleepers. Then he switches the TV set off and creeps down the hall to his bedroom.

  chapter 59 . . .

  The transition to morning goes unnoticed by Val Thompson, Christie's Night Security Chief. He leans against the wall inside the waiting room doorway, radiating tension, unhappy to have a student attack on his watch.

  Bad for business. Bad for the school. Having law enforcement wannabes like Connor as the rule rather than the exception doesn't help. More retired cops like Vlad would be best.

  Quentin paces in the waiting room, Jake sits stiffly on one of the hard plastic chairs. Liz shelters under Ethan's arm with a kind of vacant look in her eyes.

  Elsie pushes her way past Val and takes a position in the centre of the room so she can address the student contingent. “Natasha's still unconscious but all her vital signs are good. The doctor thinks she'll probably be fine. But they won't know for sure until she wakes up.”

  “There was so much blood,” says Jake, “I was afraid that she might be, I thought she was . . . dead.”

  “Scalp wounds bleed. The doctor said the blow to her head wasn't so bad. They were worried about exposure, she was in the cold so long, but she's warmed up, so that's good.”

  Liz looks up at Elsie and asks, “Was it, was she . . . ?

  Elsie nods, “Yes, she was raped. But she's alive. It's looking pretty good for her. If she'd been out there all night before anybody even looked for her, it might be a lot different.”

  Liz nods miserably and Ethan hugs her more tightly.

  “There is some brain swelling, so they're considering inducing a coma if she starts waking up too soon.”

  Ethan says, “That doesn't sound too good Else.”

  “It's precautionary, to prevent brain damage. Anyway, the cops are talking to the doc, but they want to talk to us all before we go home.”

  Quentin raises his hand, “Uh, can I go first? I haven't been able to get through to my wife, she's gonna be steamed.”

  Val nods. “I don't see why not.”

  The door opens and a couple of uniformed officers come in. Val asks if they'll speak to Quentin first. The officer nods and Quentin follows them out into the hall.

  They all cram into a small office barely big enough to house a desk and three chairs. The younger officer says, “I'm P.C. McKay. Maybe you can tell me how you came to be involved in the search tonight Mr. Bradbury?”

  Back in the waiting room Elsie puts some change in the drinks machine and pulls out a bottle of Gatorade.

  Jake tells Val, “I've never been interviewed by cops.”

  “You'll be fine.” Val says. “Just answer their questions.”

  Jake shrugs, “You know, what happened to Natasha was horrible, but in a sick way it's kind of exciting too.”

  “That's normal.” smiles Val. “Look, can you and your friend come by security tomorrow? Today. I'd like to get your statements about Connor.”

  “That guy's a real creep.”

  “True. But I can't fire him for being a creep. That's why I need your statements about what happened tonight. The smart guys come to Christie for an education, so we're left with a pretty shallow gene pool for guards. Still, I'd rather be short handed than keep Connor. So your help would be appreciated.”

  “Oh sure. And I think Q will be happy to help too.”

  “Thanks.” says Val.

  Jake nods, and goes back to sit with Ethan and Liz. Val keeps his position by the door, and Elsie offers him a sip of her Gatorade.

  Across the room, Ethan watches the way Elsie extends the bottle cautiously to the big man, almost like she's afraid she's gonna get bitten. Ethan wishes he had his camera since the combination of the gritty institutional room under fluorescents would make an excellent backdrop to the picture they cast, kind of a beauty and the beast motif, with the guard's bloated bodybuilder physique angled against Elsie's delicate beauty. Still, Ethan has a pretty good idea which one is the beast.

  “Do you think they'll let us see Natasha?” Jake asks.

  “Maybe tomorrow. I hope she'll be OK.”

  Ethan says “She'll be okay. She's got good friends.”

  “Oh God,” Liz's eyes are wide, “Nobody told Boris.”

  “Nobody told anybody.”

  “But Boris, he'll be devastated.”

  Ethan and Jake exchange looks. It has occurred to both of them that Boris may very well be the prime suspect.

  Over by the door, Val hands the bottle back to Elsie. “So how've you been.” she asks.

  Val answers guardedly, “Good.”

  “Still married?”

  “Very happily. Best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “Too bad.”

  “I'm happy, Else.”

  Elsie's eyes flash as she says, “You shouldn't be happy damn it. You should be a doctor.” She stops abruptly, knowing she's spoken with more heat than intended, then glances over at the others, gratified to see that they're in their own world.

  “It's over, Elsie. Just let it lay.”

  Under icy control Elsie says, “Whatever.”

  Val looks at her sharply, “Are you happy?”

  “Yes, thank you, I'm ecstatic. Rapturous even.”

  Val smiles. “I worry about you sometimes still.”

  “Oh don't. You wouldn't believe how very many talented men there are in the world. I'm having the time of my life, dear.”

  “I'd be happy to hear you're happy, Else.”

  “I'm happy one of us will have our dream come true.”

  Val shakes his head, “It wasn't ever my dream, babe. I just went along because you wanted it so much.”

  “Is that what you tell yourself?”

  “That's what's true. I know you never really listened to me, but I tried to tell you that for a long time.”

  The younger police officer sticks his head in to the waiting room. “Who's next?” he asks. Jake stands up with alacrity, and the officer nods, so Jake follows him down the hall to a small office adjacent to the nurse's station.

  The uniformed cop's deferential posture makes it clear the guy in plain clothes seated behind the desk is the top dog. Jake assumes he's a detective. The uniformed cop takes the seat by the wall and flips open the netbook perched on the corner of the desk.

  The plainclothes cop stands, extends a hand to Jake and says, “I'm Detective Wolfrom, this is P.C. McKay. And you are?”

  “Jake Ellis.” Gingerly shaking Wolfrom's hand, Jake is relieved his hand is only a little crushed when the detective releases it. Wolfram gestures toward the chair and they sit.

  Wolfrom asks “So, you were one of the searchers tonight, is that right?” The uniformed officer quietly transcribes the interview, typing everything into the small computer.

  Jake says, “Yeah. Liz was worried because Natasha didn't show up at the car show.”

  “Lets try and keep it to what you know directly, okay? What you yourself saw, heard and did.”

  Jake nods. “You mean Liz asked me to help find Natasha?”

  Wolfrom nods. “Right, knowledge you know yourself, not what you've heard, or inferred. How did that happen?”

  “Okay, I guess it was around four thirty or so, and I was looking to see if anybody wanted to come to the computer club meeting when I ran into Liz.”

  “And where was this?”

  “In the library. Liz was looking for Natasha, and she was mad because Natasha d
idn't come to the car show. Which was weird because it was her idea, Natasha's I mean.”

  “That's the Antique Car Show at the Waterfront Mall?”

  “That's right. Natasha never showed up. Liz said she couldn't get Natasha on her cell either. So Liz was mad at Natasha, but she didn't know about the fight.”

  Wolfrom frowns. “Fight?”

  “Yeah, I didn't see it though so maybe.”

  Wolfrom shakes his head, “No, no, it's okay, it can provide the background. Tell me about the fight.”

  “Well, Boris and Natasha had a big fight at lunch, and she took a swing at him.”

  Wolfrom fixes Jake with a look. “Son, this isn't a game.” Jake frowns, then he gets it. “Oh, the names. It's their real names, Boris Horvat and Natasha Panov. they're both photography majors.”

  Mollified, Wolfrom nods. “Oh. Alright, then.” Glancing down at his notebook, he asks, “How did you get involved the search?”

  “When Liz got back she was looking for Natasha, so I helped ask around but nobody'd seen Natasha since the fight. That's when Liz got worried, so she rounded us up and got us out looking, and then, well, we found her.”

  Wolfrom nods. “What was the fight about?”

  Jake shrugs. “They say Natasha knocked him down.”

  “How did you know where to look for her?”

  “After the fight people said she took off into the woods. But there were conflicting stories as to which path she took.”

  “Where were you this afternoon?”

  “A lecture after lunch, then I was taking pictures.”

  “Where?”

  “Here in the hospital. The nursery. My prof recommended me.” Jake frowns. “Wait a minute, you mean I'm a suspect?”

  “Every male anywhere near this campus is a suspect.”

  chapter 60 . . .

  Jake and Elsie stumble companionably into the residence. She's far too drained to give him a hard time, and he's much too tired to care.

  “Goodnight Elsie. Thanks.” says Jake, surprised at how much he really means it, as he heads down the hall.

  Elsie nods and is crossing through the common room toward the interior stairs when she notices the sectional is occupied. She's started up the stairs when she realizes that it's Eric's unmistakable profile against the blue cushions. He's snoring a little, and some one's draped the afghan over him.