He was burrowing in the snow like a truffle hog when someone walked into the yard. The Teeuwen girl—he still can’t remember her first name—came into view. Black spots filled his vision.
The ring road is busy, he approaches the exit for Val-d’Isère. He’s got the route down pat, they’ve been coming here for years. He’s known her since she was born, the Teeuwen girl. Was it that time already? She took her bike around the back, her full school bag strapped to the baggage carrier. She snapped out the kickstand, checked to see that the bike stayed put, precious seconds he used to stretch out his legs and lie flat in the snow. There he lay, prepared for utter ignominy. His eyes wide open, he peered past the bloody torso, his face pulsated. Thirty meters away, the thickly clothed girl walked toward the back door, the utility room. He could see her stop short as she approached. Her gloved hand briefly touched the taped-up windowpane. What was her name again? She looked around, he squeezed his eyes shut. When he looked again she had opened the back door. Her voice was dry in the morning air. “Hello?” she called out. He begged, he prayed she would go inside. To get to the cats’ food bowls she would have to cut through the living room to the front hall. Had he cleaned up properly? She disappeared into the farmhouse.
Get off here. Chambéry exit. The will to carry on, the survival instinct that now leaks from him like alkaline from a spent flashlight battery, brought him to his feet. Swiftly he scrambled up and lifted the torso off the stump, dragged it to the workshop without breathing, and went around the back of the large workbench. Drunk with adrenaline, he laid the monstrosity behind the veneer press and lay down next to it. Wait. Don’t move. That girl has to go to school, she’d feed the cats and cycle off to school. What was her name, damn it? Joni looked after her, Joni used to babysit at the Teeuwens’.
It’s another quarter of an hour beyond Chambéry. But what he’s known all along, happens: he keeps driving. The two of them, they were at the Teeuwens’ together. He misses the exit and keeps on driving. Joni and Wilbert babysat that girl together. His Audi is a droplet gliding toward the Mediterranean Sea.
Bonita Avenue Page 52