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She washed a cup in hot water with her hands. Her skin was red under the tap. Her back looked stiff and hard against her shirt.
”You want to install a burglar alarm system?“ I said.
”Yes!“
”I'll call somebody in the morning,“ I said, and went into the backyard, where I sat for a long time at the picnic table and stared listlessly at the shadows of the mimosa tree shifting back and forth on the grass. It was not a good night to be locked up with your own thoughts, but I knew of nowhere else to take them.
In the morning I drove to New Iberia with Alafair to pick up an outboard engine from the freight agent at the train depot.
”You shouldn't have messed with the gun, Alf,“ I said.
”I'd already called 911. What was I supposed to do next? Wait for him to kick the door in?“ She looked straight ahead, her eyes dancing.
”I couldn't find any footprints.“
”I don't care. I saw him. He was out there in the trees. Tripod got scared and started running on his chain.“
”It wasn't the guy who got Tripod out of the coulee?“
”He was thinner. A car went by and his skin looked real white.“
”Did he have red hair?“
”I don't know. It was only a second.“
”Maybe it's time we learn how to use a pistol properly,“ I said.
”Why's everybody mad at me? It's not fair, Dave.“
”I'm not mad at you, little guy .. . Sorry .. . Bootsie isn't, either.
It's just-“
”Yes, she is. Don't lie about it. It makes it worse.“
”That's pretty strong, Alf.“
”Why'd y'all leave me alone, then? What am I supposed to do if bad people come around the house?“ Her voice grew in intensity, then it broke like a stick snapping and she began to cry.
We were on East Main in front of the Shadows. I pulled into the shade of the oaks, behind a charter bus full of elderly tourists. The bus's diesel engine throbbed off the cement.
”I screwed up. I won't do it again,“ I said.
But she kept crying, with both of her hands over her face.
”Look, maybe I won't go back with the department. I'm tired of being a punching bag for other people. I'm tired of the family taking my fall, too.“
She took her hands from her face and looked out the side window for a long time. She kept sniffing and touching at her eyes with the backs of her wrists. When she turned straight in the seat again, her eyes were round and dry, as though someone had popped a flashbulb in front of them.
”It's not true,“ she said.
”What isn't?“
”You'll always be a cop, Dave. Always.“
Her voice was older than her years, removed from both of us, prescient with a joyless knowledge about the nature of adult promises.
By Sunday morning I still hadn't put the matter to rest. I woke early and tapped on Alafair's door.
