 XVII. Neron 9:00 AM “I like Hadrian.” “You do?” said Reine surprised. She briefly glanced at Mary who deftly maneuvered her beat-up but functional gray truck out of the driveway. Tuesday had wedged himself into the tiny third middle seat and proceeded to take a nap. He was drowsy from all of Mary’s special fried ham he had gorged himself on earlier. “Oh, I mean you do. Well, everyone likes Hadrian.” “You mean he’s a ladies’ man.” Reine pretended to cough. “Uh…” While they were cooking breakfast, Mary had realized that they were running low on food. Figuring that the local authorities wouldn’t care if they went into town to go grocery shopping (since they technically wouldn’t be leaving town, just Ira’s property) Mary had coerced Reine into coming with her. She finally rationalized that maybe she would have to buy some cat food, especially to wean Tuesday off of human food, and to make discrete inquiries about anyone who had lost an Abyssinian cat as well as to the more delicate matter of Ira’s disappearance since Ira’s current unknown whereabouts were still a secret to the world at large. “Granted, he’s a bit rough around the edges,” Mary continued as if she hadn’t registered Reine’s surprise. “And he needs to quit smoking, but I like him.” “And how did you come up with that conclusion?” The young, buxom housekeeper smiled. “Geez.” Reine sighed and stared out the window at the passing trees. “I should have guessed earlier. I suppose Diana was out of the question?” “Diana is a housewife. She’s married to some guy named Stan.” “Oh, that’s right. Xanthia, then.” “She’s attractive for her age, but I don’t think anyone would go for her extreme outlook on, ah, life.” “All right. Maybe I’m not as astute as I thought I was,” Reine grinned wryly. “So why are you telling me that you like Hadrian?” “You’re one of his friends.” “And you want my approval?” She laughed. “Trust me, you don’t need my approval. Hadrian associates with whomever he likes. He never asks me for approval.” “But one night,” and she saw Mary slightly blush, “he told me that he would never stick with anyone that you or Marcus would have disapproved of. He thinks of you as family.” “Family?” Reine glanced back at Mary, then at the snoozing cat. “Yes, I guess that’s true, in an odd sort of way. Sort of like the wonky brother-in-law. If I had a brother-in-law.” The small road, nearly inundated with the forest, eventually widened out onto the main street. For a small town, Monadnock was well kept. Even with the first snow, someone had gotten up early and had industriously plowed the main street so whatever traffic that got out that day (which admittedly wasn’t much) wouldn’t have to slog through melting brown slush by midday. Mary pulled into an oversized log cabin that had a sign in front on top of the door proclaiming, “McNally’s Groceries.” The sign was a little crooked. There were three other vehicles on the non-existent parking lot, all of them like Mary’s truck, battered and old. As Reine opened the door, she nearly rammed it into the truck in the next spot. She cringed at the grating metal sound. “Don’t worry about it,” Mary called from the other side. “I’ve had this truck since I learned how to drive.” Tuesday uttered a meow and jumped out. Immediately disliking the cold ground, he climbed up Reine’s leg. “Tuesday! Get back in there. Grocery stores don’t allow pets.” The housekeeper laughed at Reine’s predicament. “Bring him along. I don’t think McNally would care all that much. He has three cats himself. Besides, you can ask people if they’ve lost the cat and have an accurate depiction of him since he’s right here.” Vindicated, Tuesday finally leaped to her shoulders. She gave a resigned sigh. A cowbell clanged as Mary pushed open the door. The ceiling was low, but the floors were white and relatively smudge free. It looked like a regular grocery except much smaller. There were only four long aisles laden with an assortment of dry foods. Along the edge of the store were cold bins for meat and fresh vegetables. A small freezer at the back held milk and other dairy products. At the front of the store was one counter where a bored teenaged girl with short brown hair and freckles snapped her gum and flipped through the latest Seventeen magazine. As Mary took one of the shopping carts and began loading it up with various supplies, Reine wandered along the aisles until she came upon a heap of bags of cat food. “Here we are Tuesday, food.” The cat leaned over her shoulder and sniffed. Uninterested, he settled back on her shoulder. “Not to your liking, eh? Well, unfortunately, you don’t have a choice. You can’t go eating human food all the time. I thought some of the stuff we eat was poisonous to cats. Like potatoes and other tubers. And you can’t very well eat tuna even if you do like it. I heard that the oil in tuna depletes the calcium in your bones. And we wouldn’t want that would we? I think we need to wean you off of Mary’s cooking and put you on a cat food diet indefinitely. I know you’re a bit thin, but we shouldn’t go to the other extreme.” Tuesday hissed. “Look here, I’m not the one advocating you get fat. Just that you stop eating the food that’s unhealthy for you.” His tail smacked her forehead. “Now what is it?” Reine turned and saw that Mary was a little ways over in the bread aisle with her hands on her hips. She was frowning ferociously at a giant hulking man with no neck who was looming over her and leering at her. He was wearing a ratty coat and red suspenders. He looked like one of those rowdy fans at monster truck rallies. The cat meowed in her ear. “You’re right, Tuesday. I think we’ll have to rescue Ira’s housekeeper.” The teenager at the counter chose that moment to look up from her magazine. “Bubba,” the girl said sternly as the gum snapped. “Stop harassing my customers.” “Shut yer trap, girl,” he said rudely, not even turning around to address her. “Can’t ya see I’m busy.” “Busy, my ass,” Reine muttered as she turned the corner to the next aisle. “I can see you’re busy thinking about your lower half,” the girl responded. “Don’t you have your own business to look after?” This time, the man ignored the girl. “Well,” he grinned at Mary. “How about it? Tonight over at…” “I’m not interested.” “Look, I’m just offering you a good time.” “I have work to do.” “Aw, come on.” Bubba reached out and grabbed Mary at the waist. She struggled vainly in his grasp as he puckered his lips. But as he managed to pin Mary’s arms to her sides, he finally spotted Reine storming down the aisle with a cat on her shoulder. “Now what’s this? I didn’t know you had a friend…” Tuesday hissed as Reine swung her arm upwards and her fist connected with his face in a loud crack. Bubba suddenly let go of Mary who stumbled back, wide-eyed. The man fell backwards to the floor with a loud thump. “Ow.” Reine shook her hand out. “His face is like a rock.” “Is he dead?” Mary said worriedly. “I don’t think so, more’s the pity,” said Reine. “He’ll probably be out for a while, but his head is probably so thick whatever that is his brain won’t be damaged. He probably won’t be able to remember a thing either.” “Wow,” said the clerk as she jumped over the counter to get a good look at the unconscious man. “How did you do that?” “A bit of self defense,” said Reine. “Usually I would go below the belt, but Mary was unfortunately in the way. So I went to the other opening.” “So you think I could learn that if I went to a self defense class?” Reine nodded. “Cool.” “Cool indeed,” said Mary as she brushed her clothes back in order. “I’ll have to remind myself to sign up for one.” Reine frowned at the man on the floor, thinking of Ira’s disappearance and the police. “I do hope he doesn’t remember all of this. Who is he anyway?” “Bubba?” said the clerk as she began to check out Mary and Reine’s groceries. “He owns the hardware store across the street. He definitely gets more customers during the summer. During the winter, he’s a nuisance. Not enough to do, I say. I think he needs a new hobby.” “Well, it definitely should not involve picking up women,” said Reine. “Yeah,” the clerk agreed. “McNally once told him to go fishing, but he wouldn’t listen. He said it was for old men who didn’t have anything better to do.” The clerk laughed. “Like attempting to get a social life in a grocery story is much better.” © 2002, S. Y. 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