Fran Finds a Body

Fran was a sleepwalker. She hadn’t always been a sleepwalker. She seemed to have developed it out of necessity the way we developed thumbs and the ability to speak once upon a time. A sleepwalking Fran was scarier than a drunk Pete. Pete, her first husband, grew tired of slapping her around, of throwing beer bottles and fifths at her head only for her to stand catatonic, her eyes glowing green like the beams from an alien spacecraft. He dodged her lasers and left her alone and she no longer woke with bruises and cuts and broken limbs. She never remembered the nights she sleepwalked; she sleepwalked almost every night.

Fran rented the main cabin out to Airbnb’ers. She found pleasure in tidying the place before the guests arrived, in meeting them, chatting about local festivities, and she liked to leave them be, driving down the road to the smaller cabin she called home. She slept in the main cabin the night before a group of four were set to arrive. It was early when she woke and took her coffee onto the back porch. Fog rolled over the forest, mixing with the steam coiling from her mug. She’d already decided to shower and brush her teeth back at the smaller cabin. She’d spent several hours cleaning the place the previous night and didn’t want to dirty the sparkling bathroom. 

When she walked back inside the den, she noticed a trail of what appeared to be blood on the hardwood floor. It was the same color as the ruby red blood blisters that sometimes formed just underneath her skin from scrubbing too hard or pricking her finger while sewing. She set the mug on a counter in the hall as something dropped from the base of her neck to the pit of her stomach like a fat drop of rain smacking pavement. She followed the trail, careful not to smear the blood. She stopped in front of the hall closet. She knew it was stuffed to the brim with holiday decorations—fairy lights, reindeer made of sticks, a blow-up Santa Claus, all ready to be thrown into rotation after the Halloween decorations were taken down and put away. There were large beach towels, extra linens, and multiple wicker picnic baskets lining the top shelves. And there was a dead man crumpled in the corner, his limbs like a Raggedy Ann doll, and his eyes wide open, his jaw slack, and his skin ashen and bluish.

Fran slammed the door and walked back to the sliding door leading out to the back porch. She leaned her forehead on the clammy glass. Maybe she could rewind time if she really focused. She squeezed her eyes as hard as she could, but it only gave her a headache. Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. It was the Airbnb’ers letting her know they would be arriving early; they would be at the cabin within the hour. Fran glanced back at the trail of blood, willing it to disappear.

I’m not a murderer, she thought. I didn’t do it; I didn’t do anything. I don’t even know the man. [The latter was true; indeed she didn’t know him.] She dragged a chair from the kitchen to the closet and felt along the top of the frame for the key. It wasn’t there. She crouched, still balancing on the top of the chair, and vomited. Where was the key? Where in the world could it have gone? [But of course there was never any key. The closet had never locked.] She dragged the chair back to the kitchen, found her yellow rubber gloves from under the sink, and settled on an all-purpose spray (because what does one use to mop the blood of the murdered?). After she ran upstairs and quickly removed the sheets and the pillowcases from the bed she’d slept in, deciding to throw them in her car rather than run a load at the cabin. She tucked the corners of the fresh sheets tight, she opened all the windows although it was a brisk fall day, and wondered how long it took a corpse to rot and smell. She decided not to look it up on her phone. Then she left the keys in the front door keyhole and drove down to her smaller abode where she sat in front of a roaring fire with her arms around herself rocking and murmuring incoherent strings of syllables and pondered how different it all was from everything she’d ever seen on tv.

*

Lily squeezed Brian’s arm. 

“Isn’t it just the quaintest?” she announced as they pulled into the cabin’s driveway. “I’m so glad we’re getting out of the city for the weekend.”

“Ugh me too,” Sasha said. “I can feel my lungs unclogging.”

“You two are so dramatic,” Sean said.

“Sean’s just spooked being around so much nature,” Sasha said. “When was the last time you stepped off the island?” Sasha was referring to Manhattan. The foursome were taking a weekend trip to Vermont, an hour outside Burlington. They’d been friends since college, but had lately grown apart. As a last ditch attempt to try and revive their fraying friendship, the girls had booked the trip several months in advance during a coffee date they both hadn’t thought would come to fruition, but found themselves reinvigorated by afterward.

“What are we even gonna do here? Is there cell service?” Sean said.

“We’ll roast s’mores. We’ll watch movies, play board games. It’ll be fun, Sean,” Sasha said.

“Whatever,” he said.

They unloaded the car. It took several trips. 

“The host got such great reviews. I wonder why she isn’t here,” Lily said.

“It’s nicer not to have to make small talk with anyone, don’t you think?” Brian said. Lily shrugged. 

“We’ll have to go grocery shopping,” she said.

“I thought we could just go out,” Sasha said.

“It’ll be cozier to hibernate here. It’s supposed to rain all weekend anyway.” The girls followed each other poking their heads in the different rooms downstairs—the kitchen, living room, den, the half-bath, and various closets. “I wonder if she has those sheepskin blankets. They’re so cozy,” Lily said. Her hand was on the door handle of what she could only imagine was the linen closet when Brian screamed in the kitchen. She turned her head and walked to the kitchen.

“What? What is it? You have the highest pitched scream I’ve ever heard Brian.”

“Black widow.”

“What? Where?” Sasha said, peeling herself from the couch and turning on the flashlight on her phone. They stared at a huge black spider crawling along the door leading to the side of the house from the kitchen. The back of its body was painted in a crimson hourglass.

“Holy shit I’ve never seen one in real life before.”

“Get it Brian, get it!” Sasha shrieked.

“What’s going on?” Sean said, entering the kitchen. The three pointed to the spider. Sean slowly removed his boot and inched toward the spider. He brought the boot down on it, smacking it over and over—bang, bang, bang.

“Gee Sean, you can stop now, it’s clearly dead.” The spider’s body was mottled like blackberry jam, a little twig of an arm bent and stuck to the tile floor.

“Gross,” Lily said, stomping upstairs.

*

They drove to the local mart.

“I don’t think they’re going to have kefir here,” Sasha said. Lily didn’t respond. She rounded the corner and nearly ran into Sean.

“I’m dyin’ here, Lil,” he said. “Who thought this was a good idea?” His hand was cupping her elbow and making her stomach swim. 

“Yeah, I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe I’m a masochist.” She quickly squeezed his butt. 

“This is so ruining my diet,” Sasha said, dumping chips, crackers, and cookies onto the checkout counter.

“It’s vacation, it doesn’t count,” Lily said. She rested her head on Brian’s shoulder. He kissed the top of her head.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Brian said from the bed. Lily changed into pajamas.

“What do you mean?” she said.

“I don’t know. Something feels wrong in here. You don’t feel it?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “The spider really spooked you, didn’t it?”

“There’s bad vibes in here man.”

Sasha knocked on the door.

“Let’s play Clue tonight. I love that game. I haven’t played it in forever. I’m really good at it.”

“Not sure how sharp you’ll be without your kanifer,” Brian said.

“Kefir,” she said.

“Yeah, whatever.”

They sat around the coffee table in the den drinking White Russians and playing all the board games they could find in the upstairs closet, Clue not among them.

“It would have been so much fun,” Sasha said sighing. They’d played cards first moving onto Monopoly, Life, Sorry, and Risk. “I’m tired. I’m gonna go take a very long hot shower and go to bed,” she said yawning, grabbing the bottle of Kahlua. 

“What are you doing with that?” Sean said, gesturing toward the Kahlua. “You gonna drink that plain or what?”

“Yes, in my hot shower.” Sasha disappeared upstairs.

“I’m wiped too,” Brian said. “Lil, you coming?”

“I’m gonna watch a movie or something down here. Go ahead.”

“Okay, but I can’t promise I won’t pass out before you get upstairs.”

“That’s okay,” she said, smiling.

“Well, well, well,” Lily said, scooting toward Sean.

“And then there were two.”

“We’re bad people,” she said while he kissed her neck.

“Mmm very bad,” he said into the back of her ear, licking the slope of it.

“We could get caught any second.”

“That’s the fun of it, right?”

“I don’t know. Do you actually want to watch a movie?”

“Yeah, sure. What’s she got?” Sean bent over the tv stand, sifting through the DVDs. “Big Goldie Hawn fan over here.”

“Oh yeah?” Lily called from the kitchen.

“Come back, what are you doing?”

“Breaking open the Merlot.”

“What do they say? White Russians before Merlot means a no-go? Lil?”

“Coming, coming.” He caught her in the space between the kitchen and the den. He pushed her up against the closet door and ran a hand under her pajama top.

“Sean?” Sasha called out from the bottom of the staircase. “Where are you?” Lily’s face was flushed pink, her pajama top unbuttoned and her chest speckled in tiny red dots. 

“Get in there, now,” Sean said, beginning to twist the closet door’s handle.

“No,” Lily hissed. “Stop it.”

“Get in the closet,” he said between gritted teeth.

“No. Way. She doesn’t know anything, just answer her for crying out loud.”

“Hey Sash,” he said finally, ducking out from the little alcove and meeting her in the den.

“Where were you?” she said sleepily.

“Breaking open the Merlot.”

“Oh,” she said. “I’m going to bed now.”

“Okay love,” he said. “Sleep tight.”

“Mmm.” He watched her climb back up the stairs.

Lily sat on the couch with her arms and legs crossed.

“What the hell Sean?”

“What?”

“What was that? You can’t just push me into a closet.”

“I’d say that was a pretty reasonable reaction for not getting caught, wouldn’t you?” She huffed, finishing the rest of the buttons on her top and yanking the collar higher up on her neck.

“Well?”

“What?”

“You pick a movie or what?”

“Home Alone.”

“Which one?”

“The first one.”

“Fine,” Lily said, thinking of the open bottle of Merlot in the kitchen but feeling too unnerved to go get it. Maybe Brian was right; something did feel wrong in here. She picked at her cuticles and realized it was her and Sean who were to blame. She felt relieved and settled back into the couch for the movie.

*

“We should go into town,” Sasha whined. “I’m going stir crazy and Burlington looks so cute.”

“But it’s so soggy out,” Lily said, spooning some yogurt into her mouth.

“Come on Lil, look.” She flipped through pictures on her phone.

“How do you have service here? I can’t get any.”

“Lucky I guess.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Sean said. “I’d like to get out of here for a bit.”

“Brian?” Lily said, burning a hole into his forehead with her glare.

“Yeah, agreed. Let’s do it. A little rain never killed anyone, huh?”

“We didn’t bring any umbrellas though.”

“I saw one in the trunk,” Sasha said. “That means we just need to find one more. Or buy one. It’s not like we’re in the middle of nowhere.” They all turned their heads to look into the backyard filled with endless, naked trees stripping off their leaves. “A drive through all the orange and red is going to be gorgeous. I call shotgun!”

“So she can live feed it for her many, many fans,” Brian whispered in Lily’s ear; she didn’t laugh. She felt betrayed he had taken their side. “Come on Lil, you can’t possibly be mad at me right now.”

“It’s fine, whatever. Let me see if she has any umbrellas anywhere,” she said walking to the closet in the hallway.

There was a knock on the door.

“Brian, can you get that?”

“Aw come on, I don’t want to talk to her.”

“Fine,” Lily said sighing. She opened the front door. “Hi.”

“Oh hi there, just thought I’d come introduce myself since I didn’t get to meet you last night. I’m Fran,” she said sticking a hand out. “You must be Lily.”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. We love the cabin.”

“Oh good.”

“We’re actually just on our way out. Do you have any extra…”

“Umbrellas?” Fran said, reaching behind her for an umbrella propped against the side. “Here you go.”

“Oh, thanks. Great timing.” Fran nodded.

“How is everything? Enjoying your stay so far?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Well I don’t mean to bother you, just wanted to check in.”

“Oh it’s no bother.”

“Actually, I really hate to do this, but I’m going to need the place tonight.”

“Oh no, really? I mean, we booked it for both nights.”

“I know. I’m terribly sorry. I’ll give you a full refund for the weekend and you can come again and stay for free next time if you like. Family emergency.”

“Oh, um, okay well I guess I’ll let everyone know then,” Lily said, feeling a sudden rush of relief.

Fran drove back down to her cabin while she waited for the kids to clear out.

“We can still spend a few hours in Burlington,” Sasha said.

“For sure,” Lily said, feeling guilty for having gotten them all in this situation.

They loaded up the car. Lily and Sean put the rest of the non-perishable groceries in the trunk.

“It was fun in college, wasn’t it?” she whispered. He nodded. “Not so much anymore.”

“It’s still fun. You’re not having any fun?”

“No. I just feel like shit now. You should break up with her if you aren’t happy.”

“So should you.” Lily pursed her lips and slammed the door shut.

“I should probably leave the umbrella if we’re not going to see her again, right?” she said to Brian in the car.

“Who cares, I mean, she’s the one who’s kicking us out. What if we had an event or something and really needed the place?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m so sorry guys.” No one said anything. “I’m just gonna run in and leave the umbrella.”

“Fine, just hurry up,” Sean said from the front seat. He honked at her as she ran back inside.

She figured she would just leave it in the closet in the hall; that seemed like the right place for it. As she padded down the hall past the foyer and the den, she couldn’t help thinking what a bust the weekend had been. She thought about Sasha whining the whole previous night that of all the board games, her favorite, Clue was missing. Lily thought that if she really was as good as she claimed to be, she would have already been onto the fact that Lily and Sean were having an affair behind her back. She bet she was an irresponsible player, one who didn’t wait for all the details to add up and went around flinging accusations willy nilly. “It was Mrs. Peacock in the billiard room with the candlestick! No? It wasn’t? Oh. Well can I please get one more guess? Just one more. I know I have it right.” She scoffed and rolled her eyes as she made her way to the closet.

Just as she approached the door handle, she remembered they’d forgotten to take the extra bottle of vodka they’d bought. She made her way to the kitchen and saw the bottle was right where she had pictured they’d left it—by the sink to the right of the sponge. She swiped it and felt proud of herself for remembering. So maybe she would turn out to be the hero of the weekend after all. She climbed in the backseat beside Brian and held up the bottle.

“You guys,” she said. “Look what we almost left behind.”