Since he’d died on his stomach, the EMTs had turned Dad onto his back. He was in full rigor mortis, so his upper lip was mashed into his gums and curled into a sneer, exposing his khaki--colored teeth. His hands were spread in front of his face, palms out. Dad’s eyes stared up and to the left and his entire face was grape--pop purple.
What struck me when I first saw him—-after I inhaled my gum—-was that he appeared to be warding off a demon. I should have waited until the mortician was done with him, because I knew I’d never get that image out of my mind.
I walked out of Dad’s room on unsteady feet, determined not to cry in front of these strangers. The deputy and the sheriff stood outside my bedroom, examining the door to it. Both of them looked confused.
“Petty,” Sheriff Bloch said.
I stopped in the hall, feeling even more violated with them so close to my personal items and underwear.
“Yes?”
“Is this your bedroom?”
I nodded.
Sheriff and deputy made eye contact. The coroner paused at the top of the stairs to listen in. This was what my dad had always talked about—-the judgment of busybody outsiders, their belief that somehow they needed to have a say in the lives of -people they’d never even met and knew nothing about.
The three men seemed to expect me to say something, but I was tired of talking. Since I’d never done much of it, I’d had no idea how exhausting it was.
The deputy said, “Why are there six dead bolts on the outside of your door?”
It was none of his business, but I had nothing to be ashamed of.
“So Dad could lock me in, of course.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
LS HAWKER grew up in suburban Denver, indulging her worrisome obsession with true--crime books, and writing stories about anthropomorphic fruit and juvenile delinquents. She wrote her first novel at fourteen.
Armed with a BS in journalism from the University of Kansas, she had a radio show called -People Are So Stupid, edited a trade magazine, and worked as a traveling Kmart portrait photographer, but never lost her passion for fiction writing.
She’s got a hilarious, supportive husband, two brilliant daughters, and a massive music collection. She lives in Colorado but considers Kansas her spiritual homeland. Visit her website at LSHawker.com.
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