Temporary by Hilary Leichter

Author:Hilary Leichter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Coffee House Press
Published: 2019-03-12T16:00:00+00:00

And so I agree to the murder less for murder’s sake and more out of respect for Carl’s loyalty, for his sturdy nature, in honor of his friendship with his buddy who is serving some time, because let’s face it, that kind of friendship is worth killing for, worth serving time for, to say the least.

“OK,” I say. “I’ll do it. Who do I have to kill?”

And Carl says, “First, we train.”

“And does she work with us now?” I ask, pointing at Laurette, the politest point I can muster. “Like, permanently?”

“Maybe,” says Carl. “Is that OK?”

“Not for me to say, but probably it is. Sure, why not!”

Laurette gives me a sweet look from the other side of the shack, where she’s making Carl’s bed differently than the way I make it, with hospital corners and tight folds. What she doesn’t know is that Carl likes to let one foot hang off the edge of the bed, untucked. Those sheets will be a mess by morning.

What Carl means when he says “First, we train” is that I’m going to shadow him for a time. I’m going to stand behind him and copy his motions, his emotions, his expressions. I’ll be as silent as a shadow, dressed all in black, and Laurette lets me borrow a turtleneck and trousers to wear with my stolen boots.

“Looking good,” she says, and I believe her.

I shadow Carl when he buys his artisan panini, taking shadow money from my shadow pocket, placing the payment on a shadow counter that sits just beyond the real counter. Afterward, sitting on a shadow bench behind Carl’s bench and spreading my legs, spreading my shadow panini with a packet of shadow mayo and not even using a shadow knife, I shadow eat my shadow panini, but it tastes more like a plain old sandwich, full of shadows such as it is. Carl opens his mouth really wide, so I open my mouth really wide. He takes a big bite, so I take a big shadow bite. And were the bite not a shadow, it would be the kind of bite to make my mother say, “Small bites, or else you’ll choke.” Then Carl pulls a piece of lettuce off his lip, and you can call my shadows anything you want, but they certainly aren’t messy shadows, so I skip the lettuce part.

We walk home under the setting sun, and Carl’s actual shadow stretches long and thin and falls over my shadow face.

This goes on for some time. I sleep every night in a sleep shadow of Carl’s sleep, which is just fine, because Laurette has claimed my cot for a while. My dreams shadow his dreams. I’m locked into the shadow life I’m leading. Sure enough, as predicted, Carl’s foot pokes out from his sealed-up sheets, and I poke my foot out from beneath my shadow sheet, lying on the floor next to Carl.

One morning, he is standing over me as I’m just starting to wake. “Stage two,” he says. “Now you’ll be my mirror.

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