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Author of 34 Stories |
Jimmy Markum wound his way through the crowd of spectators watching the parade until he could slip unnoticed down a side street. He couldn't watch the parade, there was too much on his mind. The claps and shouts from behind him grew faint as he veered around the corner and the sparkling blue river came into view.
Jimmy buried his head in his hands, grabbing hold of his hair in frustration. Sobs wracked his body, but no tears fell. Everything was wrong.
"I'm sorry Dave," he said to the river, his voice a soft rasp. "I'm so damned sorry."
Jimmy slammed his fist into the ground angrily.
"You should have told the truth, not what I wanted to hear, because I sure as hell was lying. I did it for Katie, Dave. And now I've gone and fucked everything up. Celeste doesn't know where you are."
Jimmy paused and took a deep breath.
"Michael doesn't know where you are. And if I have anything to do with it – they never will. You're alive. You've gone to Brooklyn. You'll send five hundred bucks a month. And then maybe I'll believe it too."
Jimmy stood and nodded, his cold gaze still fixed on the Mystic.
"Goodbye Dave."
Jimmy stared down into the water. It shone in the sun, looking so beautiful, so damned innocent. But it could never be innocent, because it held his sins, hidden under the dark water. The Mystic River hid Jimmy Markum's sins, but as he stood there, he could see them plainly, their vivid horrors reflected off the river's glassy surface. The river's surface was simply a façade, a cover. And if Jimmy Markum had anything to do with it, it was going to stay that way.
Complete