The Ninth Step Read Online Free

“Elmore found this one wandering around the parking lot.”
    Helen sighed, not too terribly surprised to see Mitzi, the Great Dane. The dog was the size of a small pony. “Figures. Find her a spot in the kennel.”
    “Can’t. Full.”
    “Then call the shelter.”
    “Did. Full.”
    Helen closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “The Humane Society?”
    When Helen opened her eyes again, Kelly silently mouthed the word
full
.
    “Well,” Helen said, “I’m not taking Marmaduke home.”
    “Well, neither am I.”
    “There’s just no way in hell. She’ll eat my cats.”
    Helen gently closed the hatchback on her tomato-red Honda Insight. Through the glass, Mitzi looked at her with eyes by Margaret Keane. The dog looked like a whale in a fishbowl.
    Kelly and Elmore crossed the parking lot on the way to their cars. Kelly said, “We’re going to Mulligan’s tonight. Few drinks. Few dances. Interested?”
    “No, not me. I’ve got Mitzi to contend with.”
    Elmore said, “Your problem is that you don’t have a single redeeming vice.”
    Helen motioned to Mitzi. “That’s my vice.”
    Elmore said, “Don’t drink, don’t smoke, what do you do?” Then he broke into dance and song, his large body moving with surprising grace.
    Elmore twirled away, singing the old song, and Helen remembered that she needed to stop by the store on her way home and pick up a pack of cigarettes.

5
A TINY THING
    Mantissa Cove was a good place to live.
    On the way home, Edgar drove along the scenic highway that sketched the coastline. When he was anxious, the ocean always calmed him. And when he felt good, the ocean enhanced that feeling. Despite all evidence to the contrary, he felt there was something precise about the ocean.
    On up the coast, sprawling onto the beach like an odd growth, was Pirate Land, a Coney Island–type amusement park. The roller coasters rose and fell in a way that reminded Edgar of curve graphs. It was closed, waiting for summer, and looked forlorn without people.
    Past Pirate Land was a massive Greyhound bus terminal. It was the New England hub, and there was a sprawling parkinglot that held several hundred buses that had been sent here for maintenance, repairs, or to die. To Edgar, it was a sad place.
    After the Greyhound terminal, Edgar turned onto Cove Boulevard, the main artery that led directly to Mantissa Cove’s business district. From the business district, the boulevard quickly gave way to strip malls, fast food, and suburban sprawl. All of this in turn gave way to the older, more established neighborhoods on the outskirts of the town. The houses here enjoyed expansive yards that afforded lots of privacy. Banks of trees and long rows of overgrown hedges were abundant. This was where Edgar lived.
    He and Judy had installed an inground swimming pool in their large backyard three years ago. They had enjoyed it a great deal in the beginning, but now it was just another burden, a chore to maintain, an impulse buy on which they were still making payments and would be for years to come. Edgar had wanted the rectangle but gave in to Judy, who wanted the classic kidney shape. Kidney, Edgar still felt compelled to point out, was not a shape—it was an organ.
    As soon as he was through the front door, Edgar started loosening his tie. None of the other male teachers wore ties, and while Edgar was only a few years past forty, he believed a teacher should wear a tie every day. Even on Fridays.
    As he did most days, Edgar crossed the living room and stood in front of the glass-enclosed display case positioned at the far wall. The case held his collection of puzzle boxes—mostly vintage Japanese personal secret boxes. Gazing at them imparted a touch of the elation he’d felt upon obtaining and solving each one. Edgar looked at them as he finished removing his tie. He was not even aware of this daily ritual. He was not consciously aware that the few seconds he spent standing there drained away much of