Misery Bay by Steve Hamilton Page A

out into the cold night.
    I shook the hands of each of those two young men and left them there. I knew it would be quiet there in the apartment for a long time to come. When I was outside I turned my collar up against the wind and I went back down the hill toward my hotel. The lights on the bridge were glowing. I didn’t feel like sitting in my hotel room yet so I found the loneliest bar on the street, the darkest place to sit and drink with as few people around as possible. No music, no laughter coming from young college kids with their whole lives ahead of them.
    I sat at the rail and had my drink. I looked at the dark mirror behind the bottles and I asked that man on the other side of the glass what the hell he was going to do next.

 
     
    CHAPTER FIVE
     
    When I woke up the next morning, I saw actual sunlight coming through the window. The snow had stopped sometime during the night. Maybe six or seven inches had come down. The bright light bouncing off all that new snow made my head hurt even more, so I took four aspirin and a hot shower.
    I grabbed a quick breakfast downstairs, then checked out and hit the road. As I drove down through the Keweenaw Peninsula, I started working it over in my mind. What exactly was I going to tell Raz about his son? The whole idea had been to make him feel better somehow. To give him some kind of closure so he could move on with his life. That it may have been largely his fault, his absolute worst fear come true, was probably not the kind of closure he had in mind.
    I was taking the southwestern route out of Copper Country, so whether it was a completely conscious decision or not, I was making a slight detour through Toivola. When I got there, I took a right down that same lonely road to Misery Bay. I just had to see the place one more time. I wasn’t even exactly sure why.
    Maybe it was because I felt as though I knew the kid so much better now. Like now it would hit me that much harder to see where he breathed his last breath. The new snow hadn’t been plowed, so I fishtailed my way down those sixteen miles until I got to the end. I parked in the same spot, got out, and walked over to the same tree with the red ribbon still tied around it. The whole place looked different now with the sun shining. Yet somehow I still had that same raw feeling of uneasiness just being there.
    I stood under the same spot and looked up at the branch where he had looped his rope. It was sturdy enough to hold his weight. I could see that much. I had an urge to climb the tree, to work my way out on that branch so I could see the exact spot where the rope came in contact with the bark.
    I didn’t end up climbing the tree. One fatality here was more than enough. Instead, I went back to the truck, reached in, and opened up the toolbox that was on the passenger’s side floor. I found the pair of scissors I used to cut the plastic sheets for the cabin windows. I got out and went back to the tree. There were a few inches of loose red ribbon on either side of the bow. I cut about two inches from one side and looked at it closely. The color was already beginning to fade.
    This is all I’ll bring back to him, I thought. Just two inches from a red ribbon tied around the tree. I won’t bring back the great weight I’ve been given. I won’t bring back the truth about what was really bothering this kid that night. I’ll leave it right here forever. Right here on the shores of Misery Bay.
    *   *   *
     
    I hit Marquette about two hours later. I stopped to gas up and while I had an actual signal on my cell phone I figured I’d call ahead to Raz. I dialed his cell phone number, listened to it ring a few times. It went through to voice mail.
    “This is Alex,” I said. “I’m on my way back. I should be in the Soo between two and three o’clock. I’ll give you another call when I get closer.”
    There were a few seconds of dead air while I decided what to say next.
    “I hope you’re doing okay