Fear of Frying

smiling tentatively, as if confused by all the hubbub.

He showed no signs of any injury whatsoever.

Ten

Jane and Shelley walked back to their cabin in stunned silence. It was raining bucket-sized drops and they didn't even notice. Nobody accompanied them. Everyone had pretended to ignore them when they left the lodge. Jane unlocked the cabin door and they poured themselves inside, dripping rivers. Still in silence, they undressed and got into their beds.

Shelley flipped the light off, made a huffing noise, and thrashed around in her covers. Finally Jane said, 'Shelley?'

“I can't talk about this, Jane. I can't even think about it. We're both very tired. It's all a figment of our imaginations because of sleep deprivation. Or maybe we are asleep and this is all a dream.'

“Yours or mine,' Jane said wryly.

“Both, Jane. It could happen. It is happening.”

“He was dead,' Jane said.

“Of course he was dead,' Shelley said angrily. 'Absolutely, positively dead. Then a few hours later he was absolutely, positively alive. And in a rational world, which I still steadfastly believe this is, that's impossible. Therefore, we are dreaming. I'm going to sleep now. More asleep than I already am. And in the morning, this won't have really happened.'

“But, Shelley—”

Shelley faked a loud, vulgar snore.

“Did you notice how nobody would look at us?' Shelley snored again. Jane gave up.

Jane woke to the sound of the shower running and the smell of coffee. At first she didn't remember the evening before, then it all hit her. Shelley came out of the bathroom, scowling. She was still mad, but not hysterically mad. When Jane had showered and dressed, Shelley was almost calm.

“I've decided it was a trick,' Shelley said. 'A trick? On us?'

“No, we were just the patsies who went along with it and helped it work.'

“So who was being tricked?' Jane asked.

“I don't know. Somebody in the Claypool family, probably. Maybe Sam wanted to see what Marge would do or say if she thought he were dead. Or maybe it was aimed at his brother. Possibly they were in it together. I don't know. But I'm sure as hell going to find out. I don't like being made a fool of.'

“Then maybe you better keep this theory to yourself,' Jane said, smiling in an attempt to keep the sting out of the remark.

“Why?'

“Because it's got more holes than a drawerful of my panty hose. For one thing, if it were a trick, it absolutely depended on someone seeing the body lying in the rain. That happened to be us, but only because I lost my watch. Nobody stole it, Shelley. It just has a clasp that comes undone every once in a while, and not even you knew that. Sam Claypool couldn't have known I'd come back to look for it. Nobody could have known that.'

“You said John Claypool admitted going back.'

“Yes, but he didn't see the body, he says. He was looking for his brother to be upright, alive, and sitting by the fire. He wasn't scouring every inch of the ground with a flashlight like we were. And nobody could have been expected to do that. Besides—'

“Besides what?' Shelley snapped, working up a temper again.

“He was dead, that's what.”

Shelley made a whooshing sound like a balloon deflating. 'I know.'

“He really was, wasn't he? Is there any way in the world we could have been wrong about that? We — didn't take his pulse or anything.'

“Jane, you know the answer to that. He was dead. His lips were blue. His eyes were wide open. Nobody could fake that with rain falling in their face.'

“Maybe he was unconscious. Can you have your eyes stay open then?'

“I don't think so. Anyway, his head was caved in at the temple. And there was blood everywhere. Although it's all washed away by now.'

“There might still be traces of blood in the ground. Or underneath leaves,' Jane said. 'Forensic people can tell stuff like that.'

“But why would they bother?' Shelley asked.

“Nobody but the two of us believes there was a body.'

“Oh, of course,' Jane said. 'They all think we're nuts, don't they?'

“Wouldn't you? Come on, be honest, Jane. If I'd gone up there by myself and come back claiming somebody was dead and a little while later the 'body' walked into the lodge, grinning like an idiot, wouldn't you consider having me put away somewhere with nice soft walls?'

“But it wasn't just one of us. It was two intelligent, sober women with good eyes and no known history of insanity.'

“Maybe that's it,' Shelley said. 'Maybe we weren't sober. We just thought we were.”