Ivory Ghosts by Caitlin O'Connell

Author:Caitlin O'Connell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2015-04-07T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

I went to bed with two muesli rusks and a fresh cup of rooibos tea with a dab of condensed milk. I was avoiding opening a box of long-life milk and having it go bad—that, and the desire for the sweetness of comfort food. Anything to soothe me after the horror I had just witnessed. I lit a candle, and by the time I had arranged my mosquito net, a moth had already gotten into my tea.

I gently removed the moth and put it on my cardboard box nightstand. It tried pathetically to flutter its wet, sticky wings. After staring at its struggle, I got up and released it through a hole in the screen, knowing it wouldn’t survive.

I dipped my rusk into my now scaly tea and took a bite, the crunching echoing in my head. After a few more bites, I blew out the candle, got into bed, and shut my eyes. Somehow I managed to pass the night between nightmares and waking dreams.

—

I woke with a start and looked at my watch. Five thirty A.M. and still dark. It didn’t matter how pointless it was to relive it, but when I woke from the recurring reenactment of Sean’s death, I always kept rewinding and replaying it again and again. Sometimes I froze up, and the actual memory would restart. Sometimes I’d follow through with the killing blow, and the altered memory would restart.

I opened the tiny woven basket on my nightstand and pulled out my ring. I held it in my fingers, turning it around and around, and then put it on. I had been afraid to wear it again, but it suddenly felt like I needed the crutch.

I groaned, got up, and splashed cold water on my face from the bathroom tap. I inhaled and then exhaled slowly. A shower would have helped, but I hadn’t hooked up my Geyser hot water heater yet. I wasn’t in the mood for a tongue-biting shower despite how much I would have appreciated it afterward. Showering in the middle of the day when the water had been heated up in the pipes was more bearable. I promised myself that I’d hook up the Geyser the following week.

I went to the kitchen to light the kettle, grab a couple of rusks, and put together my backpack. I packed a small bottle of gin, two tonics, and a can of pilchards. I didn’t think I’d feel much like drinking, but I couldn’t help anticipating the probable fate of the baby elephant. I shoved an extra shirt and light sweater into my bag, not sure how long a day it would be. Habit forced me to pack for getting stuck. I also packed my binoculars, my revolver, and some extra shells.

I sat on my porch staring at the floodplain for a while, dunking my rusk into my tea, until Jon’s vehicle pulled up. He got out and walked up the steps. “You look refreshed.”

“Good night’s sleep and tea fixes just about anything, right?” I smiled unconvincingly.

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