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If Catfish Had Nine Lives(79)

By:Paige Shelton


            The song was melancholy but not unpleasant.

            “Talented,” I said.

            “Most of them are,” Teddy said. “It’s why I was hanging out with them all. They’re a fun group, sure, but I love what they do with words.”

            I nodded. “Anything coming back to you?”

            “Yeah.” Teddy looked at Opie, who smiled stiffly. He turned back to me. “I told Opie I might have been talking to a girl or two, Betts, so no need to hold back. She understands we were broken up.”

            Were?

            “Okay,” I said. “How about the details with the girls? Can you remember anything specific?”

            “Yes, there’s one thing. The women named Vivienne and Esther were definitely in the area, and there was some flirty stuff going on, but there was something else, too. I’m now sure there was an argument, though the people who were arguing keep changing in my memory. But now I have no doubt that the ruckus was over a letter, and Norman was trying to calm everyone down. So I don’t think the evening had as much to do with flirting or who liked who after all.” Teddy, his face still horribly swollen and bruised, looked at Opie, who gave him a more genuine smile this time.

            “A letter? What kind of a letter?” I said.

            “Either I don’t remember, or I never knew in the first place. That part’s not fuzzy; that part seems to be gone all the way.” He tapped lightly on the side of his head. “So maybe I never knew.”

            “That’s definitely more than we had before. Thanks, Teddy,” I said. And I couldn’t help myself; I added, “You shouldn’t be out here, you know that don’t you? You should be home resting.”

            “I had to get out of the house, Betts,” he repeated.

            He and Opie could have just gone to Bunny’s if he needed to get out. The cowboy poets were an interesting crowd, but either they’d captured Teddy’s limited attention span in a way few other things could or there was another reason.

            “Teddy, you’re not here to pick a fight, are you?” I said.

            “Of course not. I couldn’t fight in this shape anyway,” he said.

            No, he couldn’t, but he wouldn’t always be this messed up. He’d heal and be almost as good as new faster than it might take other, less stubborn people to heal. He’d always been physically resilient. In time, he’d be able to retaliate. Searching for the person or persons who’d hurt him might be why he’d come out this evening, even more than his newfound love of cowboy poetry.

            I looked around a little, but the state of Teddy’s bruised face didn’t appear to faze anyone. It seemed that no one was paying attention to my brother or Opie. I’d try to keep a watch as the evening wore on.

            He wasn’t in the mood for a lecture from anyone, his big sister included. For now, he’d be safe in his lawn chair. Opie could be pretty ferocious if she was pushed. She wouldn’t let anyone touch him.

            “I’ll be back by to check on you. Call me if you need anything,” I said.

            Teddy and Opie gave me quick nods.

            As I walked away, I was torn between wishing I hadn’t talked to Opie earlier and being glad that Teddy seemed to be happy that they might be back together. The torment.

            I wove my way through the crowd. As I walked past people, some in small groups, some just standing by themselves with their attention toward the stage, I inspected faces and tried to listen in on conversations. And I learned nothing. No one looked or talked like they were a killer or someone who’d wanted to beat up my brother. Too bad it wasn’t that easy.