9781250816214

GALA
The night dazzles Sophia.
Fireflies blaze in the brush just as she thought they might. The
amphitheater benches fill slowly with all the friendly faces of her dear and
darling neighborhood. Everyone buzzes with the thrill of being allowed out
of doors at night, granted dispensation for a special event.
There flits Mrs. Bea up and down the stands with her covered mugs of
tea for sale. There sits Mr. Breame with his big belly and his lady and all
their little ones bubbling around them. There lounges Mrs. Baer with her
big heavy coat, even in summer, fishing raspberries out of the greasepaper
bag she got from Mrs. Elke, the broad, pretty brunette who rules the
farmer’s market every weekend like a kingdom.
And yes, there goes Mrs. Lyon!
And all her little ones, and Mrs. Minke and Mrs. Fische besides, waving
to her, to Sophia, the luckiest woman the earth could imagine. And there is
Mr. Semengelof too. He sits straight-backed as a heron in the lower rows,
the last of the sun a corona ringing his hair. He lifts a solemn hand to them
in greeting. Sophia looks away quickly. Her husband grins and waves to the
music teacher as though they are old friends.
“Do you know him?” Sophia asks, and then feels foolish. Of course he
does. He knows everyone.
“We work together,” he says, drinking from his bottle. His tan throat
moves gorgeously as he swallows.
Sophia blinks. He has never mentioned a music teacher, nor can he
carry a tune. So it must be Semengelof’s other work that her husband
knows. “Did you help him find that criminal?” she whispers. “Is that what
you do when you don’t come home? Hunt?”
His head whips round toward her. He lowers his voice to a half-growl
and engulfs her upper arm in his inexorable hand. “Who told you about
her?” he asks urgently. “Who?”
“No one,” she insists. She tries to get free of his grip, but she is only
small compared to him. “No one, it was only a bit of gossip.”
He storms off toward Semengelof. His handprint flushes pink and harsh
on her skin. The two men speak urgently, but Sophia cannot hear; too many
other voices swarm up toward her, a protective wall against whatever is
happening down there in the front rows.