The explanation of my meeting with Laluna and Barker did not cause Palmer to temper his inquisition. Thinking always of my Persephone, I continued my account.
After his morning run on the day of the party, Alchemy stopped at my cottage and plaintively explained again that he and Laluna needed time alone and away. While they were gone, I might not be able to stay in my cottage or in the main house. He said Persephone would be staying elsewhere. I asked with who. He acted as if he hadn’t heard that Laluna and I had already argued about it. He did make it clear that when they returned, he and Laluna preferred if we’d all talk civilly about a possible alternative living situation for me.
“And you passively agreed to that?” Palmer asked.
“Laluna owned his balls. That trumps all other weapons.”
Through the screen, I felt Palmer’s condemnation. “When we first talked, you admitted that you gave Moses a hat when he came to your studio. Why’d you do that?”
“A lot about that day is hazy.” I’d made a mistake with that admission. Too late.
“It seems so. Why’d you give it to him?”
“So we agree that you are susceptible to impulsive acts. Given that your fingerprints and DNA were found on the weapon, perhaps shooting your son was another of your impulsive and hazily remembered acts.”
He didn’t pose that as a question.
“I didn’t shoot my son. I didn’t. Lots of people’s fingerprints and DNA must’ve been on it. Moses. Laluna. Alchemy. Mindswallow. Fuck you, Palmer, that’s it. Until I see Persephone, we are done.”
“Yes, now about Persephone and Moses—”
“There is nothing to say about them. Nothing.”
I couldn’t tell Palmer that I gifted Moses Greta’s hat as an act of mourning, and also relief, because I sensated cancer cells growing inside him. Yes, cancer has a very particular smell. I sensated that Moses would soon die and Alchemy would be saved.