The Big Dig

It was a typical Thursday night crowd, a group of suits at one end of the bar getting an early jump on the weekend, some grad students clustered in the corner in their best geek chic threads and dark rimmed glasses, and scattered pockets of regulars all around. When she entered the bar, I was busy pulling a pint of Guinness and idly chatting with Murph about the Red Sox, so I didn’t pay her much attention. She settled herself in one of the empty stools on my half of the bar. I ambled over and had a coaster tossed down in front of her before any recognition set in. The hair was different, the clothes were different, but the eyes, the eyes were the same.

“Well, well, well. Who do we have here? Stayed away as long as you could, but you just had to lay eyes on me again I see. Nothing to be ashamed of, I’m just surprised you lasted this long. What has it been, two years?”

“More like three. Hi Finn.” The voice was also the same. Low for a woman’s and slight husky as if she’d just stubbed out an unfiltered Camel, most likely in someone’s hand.

“Hi Gina.” My voice surprised me by coming out soft, so I moved quickly to cover it up. “What can I get The One Who Got Away to drink? I hear good things about this frosty beverage called beer.”

“It’s good to see you Finn, but I’m actually not here for a social visit. I have some bad news.” Her voice started to shake a bit. “Johnny’s dead. He was murdered.”

My brain chose that moment to take a little vacation. In front of me was the perfect oval of her face, eyes and hair so dark against all the whiteness, the pink lips still moving. The sounds emerging could have been spoken in Chinese or Bantu for all the sense they made. I don’t know how long I stood in front of her before comprehension came rushing in, it could have been a second, it could have been a lifetime, I don’t know.

“What do you mean Johnny’s been murdered? Who killed him? What happened? When did it happen? This is insane.”

She took a slow, deep breath and her voice sounded steadier when she continued. “The police found his body floating in the Frog Pond in the Public Gardens Tuesday morning. He’d been shot in the back. That’s all they’ve told us. They haven’t even given us his body yet so we haven’t been able to schedule the funeral.” She took another one of those deep breaths. “I wanted to tell you in person. I’m sorry to do it while you’re working, but I didn’t know where else to find you. I have no idea where you’re living now and your number isn’t listed. I took a chance you’d be here. I know you and my brother weren’t close anymore, but he still thought of you as a friend.”