The Dead

“… The survival of twenty-four passengers has been called ‘absolutely miraculous’ by a Coast Guard spokesman,” Jane Pauley was saying. “At least seventy are known dead, with the rest given little hope. An emergency morgue has been set up in a high school gym in nearby Bayside Point…”

“Bayside High?” Gary said. “My alma mater? Things like this just don’t happen around here.”

“Lot of strange shit going on,” Max said. “You feel that earthquake last night?”

“Yeah. They mention it on the news?”

Max nodded. “Half an hour ago-” He paused. Ms. Pauley was staring at her TelePrompTer.

“This just in,” she said. “We’ve received word of two more air disasters, one at Atlanta International, the other at Chicago’s O’Hare…”

“Three crashes in one day?” Max asked. “Are the towel-heads on the warpath?”

But if that was the case, La Pauley gave no clues. Information was still sketchy. More would follow shortly. She went on to a story about a rash of disappearances in Washington D.C. and New York City.

“Think they’ll talk about the earthquake again?” Gary asked.

“Don’t know,” Max said. “With all these planes dropping out of the sky, it’s going to be pretty lukewarm stuff.”

Gary was silent for a few moments. “You know, this is going to sound crazy, but were you dreaming about anything? Just before the quake woke you?”

Max looked at him. “As a matter of fact, yeah. But what’s so strange about that?”

“What were you dreaming about?”

Max looked uncomfortable. “What’s it to you?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Well, since you’re being so polite… the Last Judgment.”

Gary’s nape-hairs rose.

“What’s the matter?” Max asked, and laughed. “You should see your face.”

“I had the same dream, “ Gary answered. “At exactly the same time. Me and Linda both.”

Max snorted at him. “Stop busting my chops.”

“The quake woke you just as your sentence was going to be pronounced, right?”

Max nodded.

Gary continued: “‘You have been weighed in the balance and found-’“

“And then the bed start shaking,” Max broke in, nodding again, looking mystified.

“Of course, you believe in the Last Judgment and all that stuff.”

“I never believed it’d happen at three o’clock on a Tuesday morning,” Max answered. “Ditto for the rest of my life. I may be a Catholic, but I’m not a barbarian.”

“So what do you think about the dream?”

“I think it was just that.”

“One that you and me and Linda all shared,” Gary said.

“So what does that tell us? Nothing to found a religion on.”

“Is there anything to found a religion on?”

“Want to argue about it?”

Gary put his hands up. “I’m not feeling very masochistic this morning, thank you. “

“I wonder if Mom had the dream?” Max asked. “Haven’t heard her moving around upstairs. Guess she isn’t up yet.”

They looked back at the TV. The Today Show was experiencing a spectacular burst of technical difficulties, the most astonishing being a complete rearrangement of Gene Shalit’s face.

“Improvement,” Max said.

Chapter 4: Crabmeat

Long about eleven Gary grew uneasy because Mom hadn’t appeared yet, and went and knocked on her door.

“Mom?” he asked.

No answer.

He knocked again. Max came up behind him.

“Maybe we’d better take a look,” Max said.

Gary opened the door. The bed was empty.

“Mom?” he asked, going in and looking around. She was nowhere to be seen.

Gary went over to the bed. It had been slept in; the covers showed ample evidence of that. But when had Mom gotten up?

“Must’ve gone out early,” Max said. “Real early…” He didn’t sound too confident of this hypothesis.

“Gone where?”

“How should I know? Maybe she had one of those damn dreams, went to walk it off.”

“She’d be back by now. She’s never been too big on walking anyway.”

“But she is gone, we know that much,” Max said.

Gary nodded. “Maybe she left while we were in the rec room.”

“We would’ve heard her. These floorboards creak.”

Linda came in, wearing her orange terrycloth bathrobe.

“Any sign of her?” she asked.

“Plenty of signs,” Gary said. “We just don’t know where she is.”

“Left her purse, I see,” Linda said, indicating a red-leather bag lying on the dresser. She looked at the bed. “At least she changed out of her scary old nightgown.” The garment, dark blue with grey stripes, was lying mostly covered by the bed clothes.

“Odd,” Max said.

“What?” Linda asked.

“That it’s almost covered. I mean, most people get up to change. They wouldn’t take off their nightclothes, then put the blankets back over them.”

“Well, maybe Mom just sat up, took the gown off in bed,” Gary said.

“But why put the blanket back over it? If she sat up, the blanket would be rolled much farther down the bed.”

“What are you saying? That she disappeared, and the nightgown just deflated under the blankets?”

“Of course not,” Max said. “I just think it’s odd, that’s all.”

“Well, what should we do?” Linda asked.

“Do?” Gary asked.

“You know, like calling the police.”

“I think it’s a bit early for that.”

“Is the car in the garage? Maybe she went for a drive.”

“We looked,” Gary said. “It’s there.”

Max said: “Maybe she did manage to slip out somehow, and she’s crying on some girlfriend’s shoulder. Her address book’s over on the dresser. Let’s call her buddies.”

Gary looked up the number of Beth Reithermann, his mother’s best friend, and rang her on the phone next to the bed. But Beth hadn’t seen her.

Gary called Jackie Demaris. No luck there either. As a matter of fact, he struck out on every number he called.

“Anyone else you can think of?” he asked Max.

Max shook his head.