None of this weirds me out anymore."
Chapter Six: Schooldays
Rain. I've always liked the rain. It's calming, cleansing. You might find it strange, then, that I live in a desert if I like rain so much. But that's the thing – if I lived somewhere like Seattle where it rained all the time, rain wouldn't be precious.
Of course, when you have a scene to process and evidence to collect, rain is the enemy.
It stopped raining pretty soon after it started – an hour, maybe more, of rain. This morning, when kids were walking to school, clad in mud boots and raincoats, and carrying umbrellas, there were puddles to jump in. But in the afternoon, there was hardly a trace of rain left; it had all evaporated or soaked into the ground, and the kids walking home had nothing to splash in.
I started collecting bugs a few weeks ago. Any bugs, really. After it rained, I found quite a few. I keep them in tanks in the basement, feeding them whatever's around at the time. Mostly, they eat each other.
Work didn't begin for another five hours, and I had got nothing to do. Instead of twiddling my thumbs or watching soap operas, I decided to take a walk.
I walked down three blocks, and over five. I backtracked two blocks and went into a Seven-Eleven, and bought a soda. Then I walked six blocks over, past sixty-five houses, two businesses, and an elementary school. I turned right and walked one hundred steps, then I turned around and went back.
The school was deserted, except for a few girls that remained on the playground, playing hopscotch, under the "watchful eye" of an after-school program supervisor, who was reading a magazine. A boy, probably in fifth or sixth grade, walked by just as the littlest girl was finishing a complicated jumping combination. He was carrying a large instrument case and swung it out as he went by, hitting the girl and knocking her off balance.
"Ouch!" she cried. "Mrs. Jones! Mrs. Jones! Danny pushed me!"
The teacher looked up, sighed, and called, "Danny, leave the girls alone! Get on home," and went back to her magazine.
Danny reached into his bag and, smiling, emptied his water bottle over the girls' hopscotch, ruining their meticulous chalk grid. The girls raised a fuss, but he just laughed and threw the empty bottle their way.
I caught up to the kid just as he was squeezing his band instrument through a gap in the fence surrounding the playground. "Are you sure that's going to fit?" I asked. He jumped at the sound of my voice.
"Uh, yeah." He looked at me suspiciously for a minute, and then started tugging again.
"Want some help?" I asked him, my voice dripping with sugarcoated goodness. I gave him a little smile for good measure.
"Um...alright." To his credit, the kid backed away from me as I stepped closer. At least he wasn't totally oblivious to the don't-talk-to-strangers bit.
As I slid the instrument case past the fence, I said, "What's in this thing anyway?"
"What?" He was starting to look a bit frightened. He glanced back at the school.
"What kind of instrument is this and why didn't you pick something smaller?"
"Uh...I didn't like the smaller ones."
"Mm," I nodded in agreement. "That's a nice necklace you've got there," I said. A small silver coffin hung from his neck on a brown leather cord. I leaned in for a better look. "Are those hinges? Does it open?"
He smiled. "Yeah, it does. It totally flips my mom out too. Wanna see?"
"Totally," I said, grinning. I reached into my pocket for some gloves.