Let the Dark Flower Blossom by Norah Labiner

Author:Norah Labiner [Labiner, Norah]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781566893312
Publisher: Coffee House Press

New Year’s Day was lazy. There was sun that morning, but it soon disappeared into gray. The girls made pancakes for breakfast. They talked about sledding. Roman said that he remembered a cake that his mother had made when he was little, some sort of Swedish New Year’s cake. And Eloise wanted to bake this cake for him. She and Wren were going to drive into town to see if they could find a grocery store. I told her that that was crazy. That nothing would be open. Ro gave them his keys. He said, let them go; let them have an adventure. Eloise decided that we couldn’t have a real celebration without Swedish cake. And oranges. She wanted oranges. Oranges on New Year’s Day in the snowy desolation of South Dakota. El and Wren asked the girl if she wanted to go with them—but she said that she saw ice skates out on the porch—and was it O.K. if she went down to the pond? Ro was drinking coffee with whiskey and cream. What about you, Shelly? Eloise asked. Up for an adventure? I had a headache. It wasn’t a hangover; though the booze didn’t help; the change in the weather was bringing on the first sideways throbs of a migraine. I wasn’t up for an adventure, no. So Eloise and Wren set out in Ro’s car in search of oranges and whatever it was that one needed to make Swedish cake. The girl slipped the ice skates over her shoulder and headed for the pond. Ro tried to get the ancient black-and-white television to pick up a football game, but the screen showed only static. A light snow began to fall. And Ro wanted to collect more firewood. He put on his boots and with an ax he started out that afternoon.

I stayed behind.

And then I was alone in the quiet of the house.

I must have fallen asleep for a while—not long—it couldn’t have been more than half an hour. I woke suddenly with a start. It happens this way with headaches; they wake me from sleep, with a sort of ominous sense of disaster. I sat up, sweating, trembling. I was alone. No one had returned to the house. I went to the window. The snow was coming down. I could barely see Ro’s tracks, going away from the house. I had a terrible feeling. I put on my coat—

It was already too late when I found them, Ro and the girl in the snow.

She was white and naked. And he was covered in her blood.

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