Read Dry Spell: A Mercy Watts Short for Free Online Page B

was much of a talker. He was mostly an eater. He dished me up some eggs, specially-made salsa and tortillas and watched me eat, clutching his hands together. The tortillas were unbelievable, which made me suspicious and sad.  
    “They’re made with lard, aren’t they?”  
    “Tortillas have lard,” he said, making himself a plate.  
    “And I have flab. I can’t eat this.”  
    “It’s good lard.” He stared at me hard through his thick 1980’s glasses. “You like ‘em?”
    I sighed. Was there any such thing as good lard? I ignored the rest of the world’s best tortilla and concentrated on the eggs and salsa. “They’re fabulous and you know it.”
    “So where’re we going?” Aaron asked with a mouth full of eggs.  
    We? Of course. He wasn’t just making me eggs for the hell of it.  
    “Morty sent you?” I asked.  
    “Yep. I packed snacks.” Aaron produced a small cooler with a hot section and a cold section. There were homemade pizzas, salad Niçoise, ice cream, Twinkies, because you can’t leave home without Twinkies, a thermos, and a collection of San Pellegrino sodas.  
    “How long do you think we’re going to be gone?” I asked.  
    He shrugged and started making more delicious tortillas that I couldn’t eat. I loaded the dishwasher so I could seem like I was useful and called Ellen.  
    “Are you feeling okay?” she asked, instead of saying hello.  
    “Fine. I just have a quick question,” I said.  
    “About Janine?”  
    “Sort of. Have you ever been to Augusta, Poplar Bluff, or St. Sebastian?”  
    “All of them actually. Why?”  
    “I’m following up a lead. What’s the most recent one?”  
    “St. Seb for my family reunion.”  
    I got all tingly. “Was there a fair?”  
    “No. We were there in June. The fair’s in August. Right now, I think.”
    “Is there a lake?”  
    “How’d you know?”  
    I told her lucky guess and hung up. “Aaron, pack it up. We’re going to St. Sebastian.”  
    He finished his last tortilla and packed it with the pizzas, just to torture me, and we were in my truck in ten minutes.  
      St. Sebastian was a highway hour away. Finding the lake was a cinch. There were signs everywhere advertising the Town and Country fair. I followed the signs and parked next to the lake. It was a quarter to noon and the fairgrounds were quiet. No one was picnicking or boating. Waves of heat shimmered off the blacktop of the parking lot and only the ducks were enjoying the day. Aaron grabbed the cooler like we were there for a picnic and I started taking pictures with my phone. The lake was man-made and not large. I estimated that it was less than a mile around. I started walking with Aaron huffing and puffing along behind me. At least he made me look fit. I took a picture every few feet. I could get Mom to blow up the shots later and look for what I missed.  
    Ahead of us, a young mother got out of her car with two toddlers. Her little boy began to chase the ducks. He waved to me as I walked to the water’s edge. The day was beautiful, if hot. The more I walked the more peaceful I felt. I wouldn’t find anything. It would be a nice walk in a pretty park. Maybe I’d go to the fair for a while and ride a ride or two. I picked up my pace when I came out of the trees and headed for the far end of the lake, a fingertip reached into a glade of trees. I stopped for a couple of pictures. It was so pretty. I posed Aaron with the Ferris wheel behind him. He looked confused at being photographed, but I liked the juxtaposition of my messy odd partner and the perfect day.  
    Behind Aaron, the fair’s rides started going. Music played, like the music I’d heard at Ellen’s. The peaceful feeling went away and the nausea started up. I stood at the water’s edge, feeling ill and hopeless. What was I doing there? This wasn’t going to do any good, except make me hurl again. I should’ve told Pete. He could’ve ordered a CAT scan, for me, not