Bones of the Moon

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0312873123

1 The Axe Boy lived downstairs. We were friendly because he was forever walking an ugly little dog I patted when I bumped into them in the hall. As you've seen from the pictures, he was nothing special to look at. The only odd thing I noticed was his eyeglasses: they were almost always dirtythat foggy, smudged look which makes you want to take out your own hanky and give them a good cleaning. "A good boy." Why do newspapers always use terms like that? "Everyone who knew him thought of the murderer as a good boy who loved his parents, was a member of the Eagle Scouts and spent his spare time collecting Asian stamps." Even my wonderful husband Danny said that after most of the grisly details came out. "He seemed like a good kid, didn't he, Cullen? 'Axe Boy'? Jesus, what a thing to call someone!" "Danny, our young friend 'Axe Boy' Alvin Williams chopped his mother and sister intopiecesexactly one floor below our apartment. A good boy he isnot." Danny had that quality and most of the time I loved him very much for it: the world is to be forgiven. Axe Boys, dogs that shit in the middle of the sidewalk, dangerous drivers...they know not what they do. Iforgive nothing. If you stole my orange crayon in the fifth grade, you're still on my hit list, buster. We were eating breakfast and Danny was reading the story to me from the paper. The thought of that murderous creep snoozing below us not long before still made my fanny tingle. "He says he didn't know what came over him." "Oh, really? Well, I hope the next thing that comes over him is a noose!" "Cullen, you've interrupted me four times since I began reading this article to you. Would you like me to go on, or would you rather do a monologue?" But he smiled when he said this because he wasn't really angry. When Danny got angry, he became quiet. Then you ran and hid under the bed for a very long time until he spoke again. "You can go on, but he doesn't deserve any sympathy." Danny ruffled the paper and cleared his throat. "He said he didn't know what came over him because he loved his mother and sister very much." He shook his head. "My God, what would it be like if that was your kid?" He looked at me as if I had the answer. "Whenever you see the parents of a kid like this on television, being interviewed, they always look so hurt and confused. All that time and effort they've put in over the years. The new bicycles they bought, trips to the doctor, packages from Grandma...So what ends up happening? Mom borrows his pen and for some reason he goes totally berserk. I wonder if it was this bad in the old days?" "Danny, please don't start. 'The old days' were probably just as bad as now; people just use them as an excuse to condemn things." "I'm not going to 'star'. It's just that whenever I read about something like this, I get all guilty. You know what I mean? Why should we be so lucky? We still love each other, the baby's great, I make good money...." He shrugged and drank his coffee. There wasn't anything I could say because he was rightwewerelucky people, and if I could do anything about it, it would stay that way for the next fifty years. * * * I fell in love with Danny James when it was unfashionable to fall in love with anything but causes. Spell that with a capital "C," please. That was back in the 1970s when everybody h