Blossom

108

THE RAIN was pounding harder as I drove back to Hammond. A light flicked on as I turned off the engine. Blossom was in her robe in the kitchen, no sleep-signs on her face.

'You want something to eat?'

'No, thanks.'

'Have just some dry toast. You don't want to take this stuff on an empty stomach.'

'What stuff?'

'What's it look like to you?' Moving her shoulder to indicate the kitchen table.

'It looks like three fat gray coffins and a red dot,' I told her, sitting down.

'The big ones are Vitamin C. The red one's the beta-carotene.'

'You bought this stuff?'

'This afternoon. While you were out prowling around.'

'Thanks.'

'It was the least I could do. You've been a good boy.'

My eyes went up to her face, voice soft, wanting her to understand. 'I'm not a boy.'

She brought the toast over to the table, a glass of cold water in her other hand. Put them down. Smoothed her robe over her hips and sat on my lap, primly, one hand on the back of my neck for balance.

'All men are boys. Different kinds of boys. You're a bad boy.'

'Blossom…'

'A bad boy. Not a mean one. Eat your toast. Take your vitamins.'

I ate slowly, feeling her warm, solid weight on me. Only her feet and a piece of her calves showed under the hem of the robe. Dark nylon stocking on one leg, the other bare.

I swallowed the last vitamin. She bounced sweetly in my lap. 'Let's go see,' she said.

109

LATER. The rain slapped the house. Blossom's cheek against my chest, blonde hair trailing halfway down her back. Legs slightly parted, one sheathed in the dark stocking, the other bare.

'Tell me about him,' she asked, a tiny tremor in her voice.

I didn't answer her, translating inside my head, putting it in a package.

'You know what DNA is?'

'Yes.'

'One thing you'll always find around any lovers' lane, discarded condoms. The cops didn't collect them from the murder scene. They'd done that, maybe they'd have his fingerprints.'

'You mean…'

'Yeah. He's not a mass murderer, he's a serial killer.'

'What's the difference?'

'A mass murderer, he straps down, walks out the door to do his work. Hunting for humans. He's not coming back. Like that maniac who strolled into McDonald's, turned it into a splatter film. Those kind, they walk, understand? When they hear the music, they march. Like a Geiger counter. The ticks start to run close together, it's a hum in their head. They pull the trigger, make it stop. Leave a lot of bodies around.'

'Like that girl who killed all those schoolkids? Just outside of Chicago?'

'Just like her. She had to do her work. Her work was done, she was too. That's why so many of them kill themselves. Right after their work is done. Not because they can't face going to jail. It's just…over. The humming stops. What they need is a lot of humans in the same place. Doesn't matter which ones.'

'The one who killed my sister…'

'That's not him. He's the other side of the moon. The human-hunters, they kill to stop the humming in the head. This guy, he looks for it. Only way he can get it is kill. Then it starts. He wants to hear it again. That special song. The one only he hears. So he goes again.'

'So he wouldn't kill himself?'

'Never.'

'It was just…random, wasn't it, Burke? You don't think he was tracking anyone in particular…like my sister?'

'No. He's no man-stalker. I think he looked a long time before he did this. Started slow. They have trigger- signals. It's different for every one. Like a message, only for them. I talked to a guy once. Slasher-rapist. He told me, the women, they asked him to do it. Sent him a message. Not every woman, just some.'

'What was the message…his message?'

'He said, if he could see the panty-line under their skirts, that was it.'

'God.'

'If there's a God, someone needs to sue him for malpractice.'

She shuddered against me.

110

JUST BEFORE LIGHT. 'Burke, do you know what his signal is?'

'I think so. Some of it anyway. It's his way of having sex. The only way that works for him. He knows he's a beast. A lonely beast, the only one of his species. He can't find a mate. He sees the mating act, sees sex. It's like they're laughing at him. Waving it in his face. When he started shooting, the first time, maybe it was rage. Like he was being mocked. Then one time, he fired, saw someone go down. And he got off. Came. Released. He went over the line then— now it's the only place where it can happen for him. He wouldn't go back if he could.'

She shifted her weight against me, listening with her whole body. 'One thing Mama always said— the most dangerous thing a working girl could do was laugh at a trick.'

'She knew, your mother. This guy, I think he's rooted. Close to home. His base. He doesn't live in a furnished room, out of the back of an old car. Most serial killers, they're drivers. Nomads. Cover a lot of territory. Not this one. He's hit at least twice. Close by, each time. We'll check those news clips, maybe we'll know more. One thing I know already— he's not a team. He's more alone than anyone in the world.'

'You sound like you feel sorry for him.'

'I'm trying to feel him, Blossom. Be him, in my mind. Get close. It's the only way.'

'You can do that?'

'Yeah.'

'How can you be sure?' She felt the chill from me. 'I'm just playing devil's advocate,' defensive sound in her voice.

I remembered something the Prof told me once. 'The devil don't need advocates, Blossom. I know because they taught me. We're all branches from the same root.'

'All men…all people?'

'No. Not all.' I closed my eyes. Saw a sturdy little boy, big eyes almost hidden under a thick thatch of hair. Standing in the corner of Lily's office, face a mottled patch of red and white pain. Holding the arm of a teddy bear doll in one tiny fist, the stuffing coming out the end. The battered doll lying in the corner where he'd thrown it. 'I hate Teddy!' he cried. 'I told him what they did. I asked him to make it stop. He was my friend. And he wouldn't. He wouldn't make it stop.' Lily held him on her lap, telling him it wasn't Teddy's fault. Teddy did his best. Teddy loved him. And so did she. He was safe now. The child cried against her chest, still clutching Teddy's ripped-out arm. Lily looked over at me. Her Madonna's face was composed, watching me. I caught the fire-dots in her reflective eyes. Then I went out to do Teddy's work.

'It's a Zen exercise,' I told Blossom. 'Dark Zen. You have to cross over the line to where he is, you want to find him. I can do that.'

She nestled against me, half asleep. Murmured something that sounded like agreement.