Alibis

Originally written Saturday, December 10, 2005

Recognizing this moment as an opportunity to break the tension that had grown around the Very Serious Saga Moshe had conveyed to us, Trudy started chuckling. She’d have known that there was no joke in what I said, but the context did make the sudden expression of arrogance somewhat amusing, and I managed a more humble smile, too. Moshe simply smiled and lowered his eyes. “So, Trudy,” I said energetically, completing the atmospheric transition, “what did you think I could help with?”

“Uh, well, to explain the soul thing, for one thing. You do it better than me. It’s like, I know how it works, and I’ve seen it happen, but I don’t have the words for it. Even though like you said I was fine not knowing how it worked before I met you, it just kinda feels helpful to have an explanation. And I wanted you to hear his side of the story because of all of what’s been going on. I thought just knowing you would be good for him. And for us, in case he spaces out and starts spying again.”

“Oh, yeah,” I almost gasped. I’d forgotten about what had been my primary concern only ten minutes prior. “Moshe, what do you remember about Thursday night?”

“Thursday night? I was hunting with Trudy. Or, OK, more like learning how to hunt. There’s really not a lot out there in the winter. We ended up actually going to the pet store and buying live rats.”

Trudy giggled and poked him in the ribs. “The kid is chicken-shit. He got real squeamish when I said we should check my mousetraps in the sewer. And then he got all torn up about his friggin’ rat.”

“Hey! It was my first time, you know… biting into something alive. The sewer thing kind of grossed me out. And the rat was, um, kind of cute. I felt really bad about it.”

The whole conversation was so comically morbid, I couldn’t hold in a sort of laugh-snort. “Oh God, I know what you’re talking about,” I sympathized. “I used to have a pet snake. I had to feed her rats all the time. It took me a long time to get used to it. They really are just darling animals. But, um, you know, if you’re not into the live prey thing yet, and since you have money to spend anyway… Trudy, remember from Thanksgiving….”

“Butcher shop, yeah. Pig’s blood. I took a mental note of it, too.” Let no one say that life doesn’t imitate art. “But we both agreed he should get the killing thing out of the way. Get over the wussiness. And it turned out OK, right?”

“Sure beats the meat.” It only took him a moment to add, “Ooh, I didn’t mean to say that…” but by that time, we were near tears, we were laughing so hard. Nevertheless, I had to reel the conversation back in.

“So you two were together all evening?”

“All night, actually. From the time I got off work until almost four in the morning,” he estimated while Trudy nodded in affirmation. “It was so great to talk to someone I could be honest with.”

“So… no memory gaps.”

“None.”

“And what time would you say you got to Trudy’s?”

I knew I was beginning to sound Joe Fridayish, and I didn’t blame him for growing defensive again when he said, “I took off from the mall early. Told them I wasn’t feeling well. I got to her around 7:30 or so. What’s this about?”

I ignored him for the moment and asked Trudy, “You can confirm that?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “What’s going on?”

“I’d rather not say just now. There are some pieces not fitting together at the moment; I’m just not sure which ones.” Just when things were starting to fall in line—I hadn’t yet decided whether to believe Moshe’s story or not, but it at least had internal cohesion despite the remaining mystery behind his memory lapses and whatnot—this was a new concern. Supposedly, he had been at the museum around 8:30 or shortly before. Either Richard was mistaken about the time, Trudy was covering for Moshe, or Moshe was up to his old mind control tricks with her again. One way or another, I suppose I had let the cryptic, poker-faced thing go on too long. Trudy felt obligated to call me on it.

“Marya,” she scolded more in frustration than anger, “What’s up with you? Did you take an extra shot of superiority complex today? I know you weren’t planning on believing him no matter what he said, but you don’t have to actually be rude. If you’ve got something on your mind, let’s have it.”

Moshe chimed in, “I don’t mean any disrespect” (his humility made me feel a little smug and probably didn’t help his case any), “but I’m glad she said that. I’ve felt like I’ve had to defend myself against something ever since I walked in here, and I don’t even know against what. I think I deserve to know.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” I started. I seldom apologize for my own behavior, and neither was I doing that here, you’ll notice. Also as is typical of me when I do remember to express empathy, I provided a visual aid, bringing my hand to my breast as I continued, “But I have my reasons for playing this hand close to my chest. I’ll tell you when I think it’s safe to tell you.” My hand rested on the charm under my sweater accidentally. I’d forgotten it was there, and now I felt its delicate temperature rise slightly through my shirt.

The events of this day to be continued (just one more time!)