Read Online It's No Picnic by Kenneth E. Myers - Free Book Online

alternating motif of light and dark, prompting Miss K. to say, “That’s an interesting pattern.”
    “What?” Alex said with minor confusion.
    “That scene, from—Psycho.”
    “Yes, I’ve seen those. Awful sight.”
    “Obviously not a fan,” Miss K. said with astonishment.
    “Fan?”
    “Forget it. Be a dear and fetch a towel. I’m wet and dripping.”
    As is common amongst the type, Alex displayed certain bafflement with the statement, soon after realizing the hypnosis that follows effete entrance.
    “I must get some manners one day soon,” Alex said politely.
    Now Miss K., a certain eye glistening with glitter and glamour, replied in a sweet pretense, “Thank you Alex. You’re such a dear.”
    Then the clod, Alex that is, went to the bathroom, grabbing a generous helping of towels, all colors, shapes, and sizes, bringing them back to Miss K., exclaiming, “I’m sure this will do the trick.”
    As she dried, caressing, fondling, Alex began to notice a certain affinity—perhaps chemical, maybe biological, but definitely classical—for the engaging Miss K. Maybe a certain arc or vital curve rousing the attention; regardless, something captivated him.
    Then—a grave, severe air filled the room, making the once common attraction, Vanish . Miss K. reached into a purse she’d plainly attached to a belt, pulling out what appeared at first sight a pair of dentures.
    “Are those—” Alex said.
    “Yes. But take a look.”
    Miss K. gently handed the dentures to Alex, as if handling crystal, or method acting brain surgery.
    “Interesting,” Alex said as he glanced at the dentures.
    Most of the time, dentures, even if without warranty, do not come doused in blood and badly damaged. But this pair was, and this roused the curiosity. For not only were they doused, but the dispensation, the dispersion, this struck Alex as most odd.
    “Notice here,” he said, “part of the central incisor is missing.”
    Miss K. bent over; looking; hanging out; replying, “I see.”
    “Also notice the extreme concentration of blood around the central and lateral incisors, and what appears to be matted hair. This is odd, very odd.”
    Alex thought for a moment, realizing no one nailed these dentures in the usual sense, like a punch to the mouth or a back handed blow, No; somebody struck a heavy hammer with these dentures, possibly over the head. In other words; a murder weapon .
    “Where did you get these,” Alex asked.
    “I found them at the forest’s edge.” Miss K. said nervously.
    “Did Nadie wear dentures?”
    “You don’t think…”
    “I don’t know. But we can’t rule out…”
    Tears started to flow, and much to the regard of Alex, they too, were flooding the kitchen floor. But the matter at hand was not that which easily wipes up. No, now it was true ; Nadie K. was murdered .
    Alex could only guess at how upset Miss K. must be, unable as it were, to see this utterly moving scene, often blind to what moved others; sometimes opposed, other times hostile to what most find slight; and, as with all things human, not able to guess the time or place. He tried though, often in vain, but he tried.
    Then—Miss K. ran out the back door and into the downpour; unsure whether the raindrops were tears, convinced Nadie was dead. Alex followed, without eyeglasses; arriving in the shower with a blurred sense of reality, able to make out only the slight figure of Miss K. running away, into the forest. Barefoot, Alex was sliding back and forth through the mud as if a skater on ice for the first time. He couldn’t keep it up for long, if even for the fact he’d lost sight of Miss K.
    Tired, dejected, and with only a partial clue, Alex abandoned the search and made way for home.

6
     
    THE LONGPORT GAZETTE
    M ISS K. I S M ISSING !
     
    A LEX A WOKE D EPRESSED , it might even be said, low—down elated, brooding over where Miss K. had gone. Talk outside of the kitchen window was that Miss K. went missing in the storm, some