i. Jericho.
Goodbye Ruby Tuesday…who could hang a name on you…
"Turn the fucking thing OFF!"
Narrowing my eyes, I took the closest throwable thing, heaving it at the
stereo. I couldn't listen to that – especially not that song.
Not right now, anyhow. Not when…
Not when it reminded me of Reese...
I'd teased her, called her Reesie
Tuesday sometimes...
But now, I couldn't even think about
that.
Not when she could be dead.
I closed my eyes, and all I could
see were those bright blue green eyes, staring up at me hopefully as she
shoved the hair out of her face, wood bead bracelets clacking together,
as she let her fingers idly strum against her guitar –
She'd had a fondness for the older
songs, for the Stones, especially…
That's when I'd first seen her, actually.
Before I knew anything else about her…
I knew she could sing like nothing
else I'd ever heard in my life.
A voice like a blues angel, a smile…
But now…she's gone.
They suspected I'd done it.
They thought I was the one who had taken her away, done something
horrible to her – and I wouldn't do that for a million dollars. Wouldn't
do it in a million years.
It's not every day someone like
that comes into your life, and doesn't care if she tells you that you're
a thousand kinds of crude…
She'd said it in more ways than I
could understand, but she'd never once pushed me back –
She was perceptive of a lot of things,
and I think she knew that…
Well, I can not be a jerk.
Once in a while.
Of course, her guitar's in the corner
of the room, neatly placed in the open case, and hasn't been touched in
weeks. That stupid shell necklace she liked so much was wrapped around
the handle of the open case.
There was still a note taped to
my dresser…
Chris –
Hey dorkface, I'll be around
later – went shopping, and you know how I get. Out being a trash-bag
shopper. Vintage. Mmm.
She'd never showed up.
I'd waited for…hours.
And now – weeks after she'd disappeared,
I couldn't get the picture out of my mind. That little hippie jeans
wearing, acoustic guitar playing, poetry writing…
Angel.
They thought I'd killed her.
Sons of bitches…
Then again, what would I want with
her?
They…didn't know.
