The Night Remembers

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“Hello.”

“Is Faith there?” I said.

“Not right now. I’m Marcia.”

“Marcia?”

“The babysitter. I live in the building. I work the night shift at Rockwell. On the line. That’s why I can babysit this morning.”

“Oh. Where’s Faith?”

“I’m not sure.”

“She didn’t say?”

“Not exactly.”

“Marcia.”

“Yes.”

“I’d like to ask you a question.”

“All right.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Is this Mr. Walsh?”

“Yes. Why?”

“She said you’d probably be calling.”

“Oh. Did she say anything else?”

Hesitation. “Just that I wasn’t, uh, supposed to say anything.”

“Say anything about what?”

Hesitation. “Well, you know, the way she left and all.”

“What about the way she left?”

Hesitation. “She’ll get mad. You know her temper.”

“I know her temper.”

“So maybe I shouldn’t say anything.”

“I’m right across the street, Marcia. I can walk over there easily enough.”

Sigh. “God, you make it sound like a threat or something.”

That, anyway, had been my intention. “So what about how she left?”