Read Online The Clearing by Dan Newman - Free Book Online Page B

from the coffee table.
    The sergeant nodded to Nate, then retrieved a small device the size of a harmonica from his breast pocket. He turned to the bedroom and brought the black digital voice recorder to his lips, speaking as he went. “Today is June twenty-seventh, the time is 6.22pm. This is the audio log of Sergeant Eugene Cole. We are at the private residence of one Mr David Mason at 12 Morningside Drive...” His voice trailed off as he rounded the corner into the bedroom, followed by the other officer.
    â€œHow are you doing?” asked Kathy, but Nate didn’t hear her.
    In his mind, Nate had disappeared to a time long ago, huddled under the sheets in Cody’s darkened bedroom and cuddled into a tangle of arms and legs, deep in a bedtime story. His son absolutely loved them. Nate made them up on the spot every night, and Cody would gleefully retell the stories to his mother the next morning, details and characters jumbled, but with an enthusiasm that filled every corner of Nate’s heart. He remembered his wife standing at the door as he crept from the boy’s room.
    She was smiling in that warm, inclusive way. “I can’t believe how much he loves your stories, Nate.”  
    â€œReally?”  
    â€œI don’t know if you can see his face when you’re telling them to him, but he’s just sitting there beaming. I mean, he adores them. He might be the only kid in the world that actually looks forward to bedtime.”  
    Nate closed the door to Cody’s room gently. “Yeah, I love it, too. It’s gonna suck when he gets too old and doesn’t want them anymore.”  
    She slipped her arms around his neck and drew him closer. She smelled soft, clean. “You ever thought that writing for kids might be your thing? They’re great little stories, Nate. You should record them . If not for you, for Cody . ”  
    â€œReally? You think so?”  
    â€œI do, he might want them for his own kids one day. In fact, I’m going to get you boys something that will help...” And then she kissed him.  
    And so in time, the small digital voice recorder she bought them was added to the nightly bedtime story – which Cody officiated over, looking very serious and stern when pushing the record button. They recorded hundreds. Some were put on the family computer, and some were recorded over, being mostly just the breathy sounds of a father and his five year-old son sleeping.  
    It was a warm, calming memory, and as it ended, Nate had no idea how long he had hung there.
    The men from the coroner’s office were coming out of his father’s room, and on their stretcher was a heavy shape zipped into a thick black plastic sack. He had expected a crisp white sheet, like in the movies, and somehow the blatant practicalities of the black bag seemed cold and on some level cruel, even disrespectful.
    â€œThey’re all done now, Mr Mason,” said Kathy, and Nate found he was mildly surprised to see her still there beside him. He looked at her. His father was gone, the police were packing their things, and he didn’t know what to do next.
    â€œLet’s get your things,” Kathy said. “We can take you home and have your car sent over.”
    Nate smiled thinly. “No, thanks. I can take myself home.” They stood, and Nate looked once again around the room. Across the room the bedroom door was still open.
    The slippers were still there, on the floor, but his father was gone.

 
    9
    Â 
    Present Day  
    Â 
    With the man’s weight suddenly off his chest, Nate was able to suck in at least half a lungful of air. He wouldn’t need it though, because he knew in the next moment, the broad blade would come singing down through the air, and cleave some part of him in two. When the man had stood and placed the blade under his chin, Nate could smell it: that metallic scent of lightly rusted steel.
    With his