me earlier. Did you know Jean?’ said Ren.
‘I didn’t know her personally. But I taught her at the academy. She was quiet, kept to herself.’
‘The poor woman.’
‘I know. OK, I gotta go. Sleep well.’
‘Thank you,’ said Ren. ‘You too.’
‘And dream gently.’
She paused. ‘I’ll try.’ Damn you, Paul Louderback.
The South Ridge Seafood Grill was the kind of place that sucked you under its awning and through its open doors. It was on a quiet strip on Ridge Street, but had taken most of the Tuesday-night diners in Breck. It was the right size with the right atmosphere and the right food. Ren walked in and moved in to order beside the two guys at the bar whose heads were not hung over their beer. They were both drunk, wind-burned and fit, dressed in green and navy fleeces, black pants and boots.
‘Well, hello there,’ said the tall one, leaning an elbow on the back of his bar stool to turn to her.
‘Hi,’ said Ren.
‘What’s a pretty girl like you doing in the personal space of the elderly?’ he said.
‘How elderly?’ said Ren, raising an eyebrow.
‘I’m sixty-two, he’s seventy-two,’ he said, pointing to his short friend.
‘What?’ said Ren. ‘No way.’
They nodded.
‘Why are we telling her our age so soon?’ said the short guy.
‘We could have been a contender,’ said the tall one. ‘So then, what’s your name?’
‘Ren.’
‘That’s a very pretty name,’ he said.
‘What’s yours?’ said Ren.
‘Mauser here,’ he said, shaking her hand.
‘Mauser?’ said Ren.
‘Yes. Mauser. No first name. And this is Little Dick.’
Ren laughed. ‘You let him away with that?’
Little Dick gave a shrug.
‘You will join us for a glass of red wine,’ said Mauser. He nodded at the barman. ‘Put it on our tab.’
‘Well, thank you very much,’ said Ren. ‘But I’m not really drinking. I’ll just have water.’
‘What?’ said Little Dick. ‘I don’t know if we can let you do that. Can we?’
‘It would be a first,’ said Mauser.
‘I’ve got an early start,’ said Ren.
‘What do you do?’ said Mauser, handing her a glass of wine.
‘Oh, OK,’ she said. ‘Thank you. What do I do? Mainly not talk about my job.’
‘Little Dick here’s a DDS,’ said Mauser.
‘A what?’ said Ren.
‘Doesn’t Do Shit,’ said Mauser. He reared back with a crazy, infectious laugh that made Ren laugh even harder. Little Dick gave what was obviously his trademark shrug.
‘And what do you do, Mauser?’ said Ren.
‘I come from a distinguished line.’
‘Of what?’ said Ren.
‘Of bullshit.’
‘You are so funny,’ said Ren.
‘You mean it’s not our bodies you’re interested in?’ said Mauser.
‘Not if you keep calling him Little Dick,’ said Ren.
‘He’d need to do you three times to give you twelve inches,’ said Mauser.
Ren laughed loud and hard. ‘You guys …’
The barman walked their way with a tray.
‘Oh God,’ said Ren, ‘what are these?’
‘Mind Erasers,’ said the barman, lining up six glasses filled with liquid in a shade of wrong.
‘Six,’ said Ren, deadpan. ‘There are three of us.’
‘Yeah, but you forget you’ve drunk the first one,’ said Mauser.
‘You sure do,’ said Little Dick.
‘They got twenty on their tab already,’ said the barman, smiling. ‘It’s like, bam – Will Smith, Men in Black.’
Mauser smiled. ‘This is what stranger danger is all about.’
Ren laughed. ‘But I’m really not drinking,’ she said, sliding her two toward her. She sucked each one up through a black straw. ‘Wow.’
Mauser raised his. Little Dick followed. ‘And we’ll go again, sir,’ said Mauser to the barman.
‘Ooh,’ said Ren.
An hour later, Mauser was leaning in to her. ‘I’m not an advice column here, but this Vincent guy is insane. That’s all I’ll say.’
‘Letting a pretty girl like you go,’ said Little Dick.
‘Aw, Vincent’s a really good guy –’ said Ren.
‘Insane!’ said Mauser.
‘Insane!’ said Little Dick.
‘I’m the insane one,’ said Ren.
‘Really?’ Mauser slapped the bar in front of them and looked at her with dancing eyes. ‘Join the party, sweetheart.’
And she did, smiling a slow-spreading MindErasersmile.
Breckenridge was between busy holiday weekends – Martin Luther King Day had just passed and Presidents’ Day was a month away. Kids were back at school. It was seven a.m. and skiers and snowboarders were heading to breakfast early before they hit slopes they were about to find out were quieter than they expected.
Bob Gage sat in Daylight Donuts spinning the playing card he was given when he placed his order. The ace of spades. He nodded his head to the beat. He was on his second coffee when a waitress walked by with the matching card and stepped back a few paces to his table to lay
