Two
June 11, 1937 ~ Journal of Dr. Walter Stevens ~ Henry had dinner tonight at his brother’s in Osceola. He came back to the camper drunk and angry. Seems his brother reneged on some promise to make him law partner. He stood by the pool a few minutes, then stripped down. I teased him—the women of Osceola wouldn’t like a man that smelled like fish. Argued with him. Even wrestled him down, but Henry knocked me back. Slammed me against the rock wall. Stubborn. Stupid. Had him by the ear—before he went under. He gasped and seemed to shudder, sucked in water, and shoved me away.
He never came back up.
Present Day ~ Noell Carpenter stretched to her tiptoes on the concrete step and peeked through the diamond-shaped window in the front door.
Sigh. God, how does Gamma live in this?
She closed
