کتاب 09-07

7

He was back two hours after sunup, pushing a rusted shopping cart through the strangling grass. He bumped it over the back step and into the garage.

The cart was overflowing with suit jackets and ties, dresses and blouses, boots and high-heeled shoes, scarves and hats. Beneath the heap of laundry was enough food to get them by for another week: some canned fruit, a box of instant oatmeal, and a six-pack of soda, an off-brand called Nozz-A-La that Harper hadn’t seen since she was a kid. Dropped in among the groceries was an audiocassette. Harper didn’t have a chance to look it over. The Fireman plucked the tape up and put it in his coat pocket.

“Memorial this evening. Dress appropriately,” he said.

“I get the top hat,” Allie said, and delicately set a black stovepipe on her head. “Top hats are metal.”

Nick found a pair of opera gloves and pulled them on. They were so long they came to his shoulders.

It was the first time Harper had seen him smile in weeks.