The dive into Courtland Farr, Jr.’s reserves had been an all-day project, sips and shots and fingers interspersed between the opening of drawers and closet doors, tugging at locked cabinets (keys would be somewhere), puffing breaths toward the little mounds of dust hanging around under beds whose sheets still emanated a faint scent of fresh-washed linen, although who knew when they had last been laundered: he had called and cancelled the cleaning service before coming; didn’t know when he was going to get there or how long he was going to stay -- hours, days, weeks, and something about the idea of a maid showing up while he was there was disconcerting. He wouldn’t have known what to say to a maid or how to look at one.
So when, on the other side of the window, by the trees, appeared the suggestion of movement, Near was, while nothing that he would ever consider ‘drunk,’ amply immersed in the warm, hazy sensation of having been drinking, slowly but steadily, from a variety of bottles for eight hours. Give or take. Awareness of his state shaped his first reaction into denial: crazy. He was all alone out here. Who the hell else would bother? There was nothing moving, just a trick of the eyes.
Second, when blinking and squinting failed to erase the smudgy motion that continued beyond his reflection: animal. Stray dog. Deer. This was the kind of place that would have deer on the lawn. Stag, antlers, striding through the mist to stand in the middle of the yard and look coat-of-arms majestic. But whatever he was seeing didn’t actually seem to have dog or deer shape, which led to thought the third (falling like a domino after one and two): burglar. Somebody had caught wind of Daddy’s passing and come to find out if pickings were easy, which was fair enough and more power to them, except that he had gotten here first. Not that that had made the papers.
He assumed, when he noticed them, that the four antique-looking guns that hung on the wall behind the sofa were unloaded. Assumption alone, no verification. Nobody would keep loaded guns on a wall. So it was a bluff, as far as he was concerned, when he lifted one at random -- cold in his hands and heavy -- and walked barefoot out onto the porch with its darkmetal nose pointed toward the lawn.
“Somebody out there?” As if anyone would answer. Raindrops landed in his hair and on his shoulders, and his voice was dwarfed by the outside.
So when, on the other side of the window, by the trees, appeared the suggestion of movement, Near was, while nothing that he would ever consider ‘drunk,’ amply immersed in the warm, hazy sensation of having been drinking, slowly but steadily, from a variety of bottles for eight hours. Give or take. Awareness of his state shaped his first reaction into denial: crazy. He was all alone out here. Who the hell else would bother? There was nothing moving, just a trick of the eyes.
Second, when blinking and squinting failed to erase the smudgy motion that continued beyond his reflection: animal. Stray dog. Deer. This was the kind of place that would have deer on the lawn. Stag, antlers, striding through the mist to stand in the middle of the yard and look coat-of-arms majestic. But whatever he was seeing didn’t actually seem to have dog or deer shape, which led to thought the third (falling like a domino after one and two): burglar. Somebody had caught wind of Daddy’s passing and come to find out if pickings were easy, which was fair enough and more power to them, except that he had gotten here first. Not that that had made the papers.
He assumed, when he noticed them, that the four antique-looking guns that hung on the wall behind the sofa were unloaded. Assumption alone, no verification. Nobody would keep loaded guns on a wall. So it was a bluff, as far as he was concerned, when he lifted one at random -- cold in his hands and heavy -- and walked barefoot out onto the porch with its darkmetal nose pointed toward the lawn.
“Somebody out there?” As if anyone would answer. Raindrops landed in his hair and on his shoulders, and his voice was dwarfed by the outside.