1
HERCULEAN ON THE RUN
April Fools’ Day started with a pretend murder and ended with a real one.
It was Saturday morning, ten o‘clock, and Herculeah Jones came around the comer, fast. Her hair flew out behind her as she ran.
Meat was sitting on his front porch. He had been watching for Herculeah, smiling in anticipation of telling her his big news. As soon as he saw her, he stood and moved to the steps.
Herculeah glanced toward him.
Meat saw her expression. There was something in her face, her manner, that instantly alarmed him. His smile of anticipation faded.
He checked to see if her hair was frizzing. Herculeah had what he called radar hair. It reacted to danger like an animal’s fur. It got bigger.
At that moment, Herculeah’s hair did look bigger than normal, and that increased his feeling of dread.
He hesitated, and then hurried down the steps. “What happened?” he called.
Herculeah didn’t answer. She waved him off with her arm as if she didn’t have time to stop.
Meat hurried across the street, not even pausing to check for traffic.
“What is it? What’s happened?”
“Meat—” But she was too out of breath to continue. She pressed the fingers of one hand into her side.
“What?”
“Meat—”
“What? What? I can’t stand this. What’s happened? Don’t do this to me!”
She looked at him with her clear gray eyes. They seemed darker now. Meat thought that could be because they were clouded with fear.
“What?”
“A body,” she managed to say.
Meat took a step backward. He put one hand over his heart.
“Not again?”
She nodded.
“Dead?”
Again Herculeah nodded.
“Killed?”
Another nod. Meat felt as if he were trying to communicate with one of those dashboard animals that can’t do anything but nod.
“Where?”
“Oak.”
“Oak Street?”
“‘Yes.”
“Herculeah, this is your third dead body!”
“I know.”
He began to count them. “Old man Crewell... Madame Rosa—and I could have been the third! Remember the Bull!”
“I remember.” She gave a helpless sigh. “I don’t want to find dead bodies. I can’t help it.”
He watched her and then he sighed too, as if accepting the unfortunate fact.
“Male or female?”
“I couldn’t tell.”
Meat’s hand over his heart tightened so that he clutched his shirt.
“Mutilated?”
“Badly.”
“‘Don’t tell me any details.” Meat began to feel a little sick. “I don’t want to hear any details.” He held up his hand as if to ward them off. “Whatever you do, don’t give me details.”
“Just one.”
“Is it gory?”
“A little.”
“Then I don’t want to hear it! No! I’ll have bad dreams. I’m going to put my fingers in my ears.”
“I’m sorry. You have to hear this.”
Meat waited.
Herculeah smiled.
“The body was a squirrel on Oak Street. A car ran over it. April Fool!”