Nobody Can Say It's You

5

Hadley was sitting at her kitchen table the next morning drinking hot coffee and eating a cream cheese-slathered bagel when she heard the familiar "thud." But this morning, it sounded off. 

She got up and opened the back door. The paper tossed by Rocket Randy, Hadley's paper boy, had ended up in the birdbath Harry had fashioned from a hollowed log. Hadley liked the natural look of the log birdbath, and the birds seemed to be attracted to its woodland design.

Hadley retrieved the soggy mess from its watery grave and promptly tossed it into the trash.

"Plan B," she muttered.

Wearing her dead husband's ratty old robe, she took her coffee mug and wandered into the study. She booted up her computer and searched for any news of the dead person who so abruptly brought the festival to an end yesterday. 

Local television had only stated that the person was a male whose identity had been held pending notification of next of kin, and investigations were on-going.

Bill taped off the area around the body and put up a makeshift barrier to provide security around the corpse, which was loaded into the ambulance and taken swiftly away. With all those rags covering his head, it had been impossible to tell who the man was. And everyone looked alike zipped up in a body bag.

Curiosity was eating her up. 

Who was the mystery man who had crashed the town's festival? Was he a local? A tourist? Anyone she knew? 

Hadley wanted desperately to know.

Onus, the big male tabby that Hadley had adopted, sauntered into the study.

"Good morning, old man!" Hadley said. "Sleep well last night?"

Onus scowled.

"I know you think I should let you sleep on my pillow and curl up on top of my head. I'm sure you love the warmth and the feathery nest of pillow and my thick head of gray hair, but I really can't seem to fall into a deep sleep with your tail tickling my nose."

Onus looked at her with a stern stare. Her argument was unconvincing.

"Well, anyway," Hadley said, "you still have the whole house to snooze the night away in. From the bathroom sink to the couch, wherever your little pea-picking heart desires. 

It's your roost. You have my blessing. You know you're welcome anywhere. Just not on top of my face, old bird."

Onus turned his back on Hadley and started grooming his unmentionable parts.

"Let's see here," Hadley muttered to herself, her attention now on the screen. "If that don't beat all!"

She grabbed her cell. She couldn't wait any longer.

***

"Maury!" Hadley said. "You up?"

"Well," Maury said, "I did have to rise from my warm covers to answer the phone. What is it?"

"Have you seen the morning edition?"

"No. I just told you. I was still in bed. Now, I'm talkin' to you," said Maury.

"Well, neither have I," said Hadley. "Rocket Randy threw my copy into the bird bath. I had to resort to looking up what happened yesterday on the Internet. There wasn't a lot of information, just a few lines with the barest details. Has Bill said anything to you about it?"

Maury's husband was Bill Whittaker, the sheriff of Hope Rock County.

"I haven't seen him," Maury said. "He got in sometime in the middle of the night and crawled into bed. I think I remember rousing enough to kiss him before nodding off, but maybe I dreamed that part. He was up and showering and gone again at the crack of dawn. That's why I was sleeping in. I waited up for him last night until I was cross-eyed. Really didn't sleep worth a diddle-bean hoot."

"You will not believe who was under that mask!" Hadley said.

"Who?" said Maury. "I had to come home and slug down a glass of Ivy Benedict's homemade huckleberry wine to relax. My nerves were torn up! Shot to pieces! 

Seeing Bill chasing that hooded hooligan down Main Street like that, with Elwin and Wayman following him in hot pursuit and their guns drawn like some Hollywood thriller movie, was horrible! 

It was like living one of my worst nightmares. And to have that thing drop dead right at our feet! I swear, I still can't believe it. I hope I never see anything like that again for as long as I live! Cold chills and heebie-jeebies, Hadley!"

"Take a breath, Maury," Hadley said. "Take a breath. I'm busting a gut here trying to get a word in edgewise. Do you know who it was?"

"No, I told you," Maury said, "Bill and I haven't talked since he left for work yesterday morning."

"It was Button Dudley!" said Hadley.

"Button Dudley!" said Maury. "What in the world! And I was sure it was a demon from the fiery pits! Or maybe some kid strung out on something. 

You never know what kids will try these days, and nobody knows what it will do to them! But Button Dudley's old as dirt, Hadley. He was running down the street like somebody had rubbed red peppers on his piles. What's going on? Was he possessed?"

"I dunno?" Hadley said. "I know Button was always lean and fit. He's never been anything but spry."

"But that old goat has got to be pushin' a hundred," Maury said. "He's been ancient for as long as I can remember."

"Maybe he'd found the Fountain of Youth. The way he was running," Hadley said, "you could have mistaken him for an Olympic athlete."

"Did his heart give out?" Maury asked.

"I don't know. I wouldn't be surprised if it just didn't burst in his chest," said Hadley. "Something had to be really wrong. It's not every day a man goes screaming and running down the streets like fiends are on his heels. And then to drop like a rock. Just like that. And dressed in that crazy costume! Button Dudley! Who would have ever thought it?"

"Oh, Sis," Maury said, "hearing this has got me really spooked. I mean it. I feel just like souse meat melting over a hot fire. I ain't nothin' but chilblains and chitter-jitters! For sure."

"You've just got goosebumps because it's almost Halloween," said Hadley.

"No," said Maury, "it's not that. It's something more. I don't know. I can't explain it. Just a feelin', you know. Nothing I can really put my finger on. Button comes from the backcountry. And not just the fringes, but way back in the hollers. He's as old as the hills and about as steeped in the old ways as they come."

"Yeah," Hadley said. "In Button's case, the mystery is how did he get to the festival, and why would such an elderly man be dressed up like Death?"

"Where was he running to?" Maury asked.

"Maybe we should be asking ourselves who or what was he running from?" Hadley said.