Vanishing by Cai Emmons

Author:Cai Emmons
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Leapfrog Press
Published: 2020-01-05T00:00:00+00:00

REDHEAD

On the morning of the celebration for Thomas’s dead wife Isabel a chilly rain fell, unseasonal for late May, though these days who could bank on seasonal. Seeing the umbrellas and raincoats, the quick dashes for cover as the clan gathered, Morna was glad to be in her apartment, warm and snug, settling in for her first nicotine fix of the day. She scanned the crowd, wondering which one of them would be the next to die, casting her vote with a woman who stood at the edge of a small group, skittish and curiously alone. They might be genuinely sad down there, but from Morna’s vantage point their appropriate little faces looked like bereavement emojis. Morna hadn’t really been part of this clan since graduation, and she didn’t wish to be part of it. They were sons and daughters of toney-brained parents: neurosurgeons and novelists, economists and astronauts, eco-entrepreneurs and bishops. “My dad’s an insurance adjuster,” Morna used to say when people asked in the early days of her freshman year. “And my mom’s in HR.” They gave her uncomfortable, vaguely scandalized looks, and the conversation would grind to a halt. By second semester she had a new story. Her mom was leading HIV education programs all over Africa. Her dad was a neuroscientist who delivered regular reports on the state of the post-millennial brain.

The rain began a new tirade, pelting the sidewalk, clearing the small crowd that had stopped to exchange condolences. Emptied of people, the courtyard berated her. She should have made alternative plans for the day, something to distract from the unfurling drama across the street which, though it held no more emotional juice for Morna than a back page news story, was impossible not to watch. It had been one of the gossip items circulating for the past few weeks among her former college classmates. Married before graduation, dead by twenty-five from a stage four something-or-other.

A person in a black trench coat darted across the courtyard, exited through the iron gate, and crossed the street. He went into the newsstand and a minute later retraced his path back to the church. Inside the gate he stopped. It was Thomas, standing in the downpour with his face to the sky, his famous ringlets soaked and punished into lifeless strands. He remained there for what seemed like a long time under the circumstances, knees bent as if he might collapse, trench coat no longer repellent under the sheer volume of rain.

She dressed in thirty seconds, grabbing the most available clothes—black skirt, black sweater, knee-high zippered black boots, her own black trench coat. In the elevator she swiped her lips with mauve lipstick. By the time she reached the churchyard, taking the short cut, splashing through puddles, Thomas was gone.

She entered the church tentatively. Would Thomas have chosen this church if he’d known she lived across the street? She’d only been here twice before, both times for dance concerts, both times thinking of it as a place

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