Page 46 of Red Snow
I FEEL LIKEI’m changing. I don’t know how, I just am. I feel stronger than before. Stronger than when Mother was here telling me what to do all the time. I’m stronger without her. The things I’m capable of doing now, I never could’ve done them if Mother was here to torment me about my every move. On the flip side of that though, I’m only the way I am because Mother made me this way. Everything we went through in this trailer together, while it broke me down and ruined me, it made me who I am today, and I love who I am today. Just look at what I’m capable of!
It’s early in the morning and time to get ready for work. I’m curious about what I’ll do tonight, but right now I have to get back to my normal life. I hop out of the shower and go to the closet to grab a flannel with fleece lining and thick jeans. I know it’s going to be cold in the house we’re renovating at work, so I’ll have to wear warm clothes. Even my tan boots have a liner inside of them.
I hope today isn’t the day my boss, Terry Weaver, asks about the missing Visqueen plastic.
As I sit on my couch and slip my feet into my boots, I hear a sound outside that isn’t normal. A car is approaching, and while it’s normal to hear cars, they never come this close to my house. This one is right outside, and there’s no mistaking the sound of car doors being opened and closed.
I get up and go to the window to check, and to my surprise, there’s two men approaching my home. They’re both black, one dark and one light, and they look like cops wearing suits. They are. They’re cops. The cops are here.
Are they here to arrest me for what I’ve done? How did they find me? How do they know it was me? Why has Mother left me to fend them off by myself? Why is this happening? I hear their footsteps as they ascend the tiny staircase in front of my door. They’re really here for me. I can’t let them take me away.
Kill them!
They knock on the door the way cops do, and I feel nothing but panic. I don’t know what to do. Maybe I should just run away. Go out the back door that’s in the hallway by my bedroom, the one with the padlock on it. Should I run?
Or maybe they’re not here for what I’ve done. Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions. Maybe I need to calm down. Mother would tell me to calm down and stop acting like a child. She’d have me prove to her that I’m a man. This is the part where she’d make me strip naked and show her how much of a Big Boy I am.
Fucking cunt! I miss you so much, Mother.
Okay, get a grip. They’re still knocking, and I know they won’t go away. I’m breathing so hard they can probably hear it through the door, so I have to calm down. I have to get this under control. Don’t let them see. No matter what happens, don’t let them see who I am. Smile. Blink. Think. Be. Normal.
I place my hand on the doorknob and turn it slowly. Is this how an innocent man would open the door?
“Jeffrey Lee Chapman?” the darker one asks with squinted eyes. How do they know my name?
“Yes,” I answer. I’m just a normal guy on his way to work. Nothing to see here.
“I’m Detective Marcus Phillips from the Anchorage Police Department, Homicide Unit. This is Detective Granger. We have a few questions we’d like to ask you if you can spare a moment.”
No I absolutely do not have a moment to spare for you fucking nosey asshole cops!
“Sure, but what is this about?” I ask. I’m normal, and a normal, innocent person would want to know what he’s being questioned about. A normal person might even be upset about having their morning routine interrupted, but I shouldn’t do that too quickly.
“We’re conducting an investigation into a homicide,” the dark one, Detective Phillips, says, still holding his badge in his hands. “And we’re interviewing everyone who had contact with the victim. You were one of those people, sir.”
Fuck. Which one of them is he talking about? Don’t ask that. I’m normal.
“I was? I’m not sure what or who you’re talking about, but I have to get to work soon.” Good answer. You’re doing good. Mother would be proud.
“We understand that, sir, but this obviously is extremely serious, so if you wouldn’t mind, we won’t take up much of your time,” Phillips says. The light-skinned one is just staring at me, and I don’t like it. I don’t like the look on his face. It’s like he can see through me. He can see into my brain and read my thoughts.
“Okay. I’ll answer any questions you have, but we have to make this quick, because I really have to go.” I open the door for them and step into my home. There’s nothing remaining here that could get me into trouble, so there’s no need to worry about that.
I sit in the single chair, they sit on the couch. The dark one takes out a notepad and prepares to write my answers down, while the light-skinned one just glares at me, waiting for me to make a mistake. Granger, that was his name. He’s the one I don’t like.
“Where were you this past Thursday night, Mr. Chapman?” Phillips asks. He has a bald head. Why does the bald look always work well for black guys? How much information should I divulge? If they’re asking questions, I assume they’ve already looked into the answers, so I need to be careful about lying. Tell the truth until you can’t.
“Thursday night, I went out to have a drink at Chilkoot Charlie’s.” The truth, no harm there. Good.
Phillips nods his head before asking another question. “While you were at Koot’s, did you meet a woman named Brenda Cox?”
The teacher. This is about the teacher. My first.
“Yes, I did.” The truth. They already know I met her, probably from surveillance video or some crap. Don’t say anything else but the answers to the questions they ask. Focus. I’m normal.
“Did she leave the bar with you?” Phillips asks. He already knows she did.
“Yeah.” The truth.
