Spin a Black Yarn by Josh Malerman

Author:Josh Malerman [Malerman, Josh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Worlds
Published: 2023-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

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“It’s a collection of letters from Carla,” Judy says.

“Carla?”

“My friend from middle school, high school.”

“The tree hugger?”

“Yeah.”

Doug, wet from sweating, his black jacket on the back of the chair, waves a hand for her to get on with it.

“She sent me letters through the years, wherever she was living, whatever she was doing.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know what she was up to now.”

“I lied.”

“And you kept them? The letters? Why?”

Judy eyes the stack on her lap. “I don’t know why.”

Doug leans back in the chair, runs both his hands up through his sweating hairline. “I don’t like this, Jude. None of this.”

He looks to the glass.

“Same,” Judy says. “But here…” She opens the first letter. “In the early days, years ago, she’d invite me to concerts, gatherings. I don’t even know what to call them. Events. She described a life on the road, she was seeing the world. And she thought it would do me some good to come see a slice of it with her. She said things like, God knows you can afford it and God knows you could use it too.”

“You coulda made that shit happen. If you wanted to.”

“I know that. But I didn’t. Didn’t want to be anywhere near Carla and her moneyless, natural life. Nothing sparkled there, not for me.”

“So what? We’re different people. Do we really deserve to be punished for that?”

At the word punished, they both look to the glass; memories of figures moving, a cracked blue fist against the tube.

“In her most recent letter, she asked for a donation.”

“Of course she did.” Doug sounds emboldened again. He even creeps to the end of his chair, sits more erect. “Not a moneyless correspondence after all.”

“But Doug…thing is…I wanted to donate.”

“What was it for?”

“For a rescue farm.”

Doug smiles but it’s tempered. Nothing funny in the tube right now.

“You what?”

“It’s hard to explain. It’s not that she was asking for a donation…it’s how happy she sounded. How unbelievably and obviously happy Carla has become.”

“I don’t wanna read the letter.”

“I’ve never seen so much actual joy in written words before, Doug. It’s like she was standing next to me when I read it.”

“Okay. So you remember a bright-faced girl from middle school. You don’t know anything about her now.”

“But I do.” She plants a hand on the stack of letters. “I know quite a bit.”

“So…why didn’t you donate?”

Judy’s face tightens. “Because I was jealous of her fucking happiness, Doug.”

“Okay. Big deal.”

But there’s no more oomph, not even enough to pretend, and he’s a far cry from the man who stood on the sales floor where the House Washer™ is sold.

“Still,” Judy says, “I couldn’t stop myself from responding.”

“What did you say?”

Judy looks to the glass. Looks anywhere but into Doug’s eyes.

“Wait,” Doug says. “No way, Jude. You didn’t.”

“Stop it, Doug.”

“Jude, did you ruin this old friend like you ruined Lauren Paul?”

Judy stares at the letters without responding.

“What did you do?”

“I made some calls. Found out who she was working with. Told them stories from our youth.

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