Riddle by Elizabeth Horton-Newton Page A

he laughed aloud. The pale blue button down shirt tucked neatly into the khaki pants were a far cry from the jeans and tee shirts he’d worn when he stood before that mirror so many years earlier. Grinning ruefully he wished he had taken the time to get his hair trimmed. It was too late for that now, so he combed it carefully.
    As he left his room he picked up several copies of his resume. There wasn’t much there but it did show the limited construction experience he had gained while incarcerated as well as his scholastic achievements which by anyone’s standards were pretty impressive.
    His mother was in the kitchen when Kort came downstairs and it gave him a small thrill of pleasure when her eyes widened. “Well you look very…” she hesitated.
    “Different?” Kort prodded. “Grown up?”
    “You look very nice and very grown up.” The older woman seemed to struggle for something else to say before asking if he was certain he didn’t want some breakfast.
    “No, I’ll grab something at the diner. Is it okay if I take the truck again ma’am?”
    Agnes stammered as she told him he should feel free to use the truck as he needed. “Just keep the tank filled and keep it maintained. When you have a couple of paychecks we can talk about insurance and whether you would like to buy it from me.” She hesitated a moment before asking softly, “Would you like to borrow one of your father’s neck ties?”
    Kort concealed his surprise before asking, “Do you think I need one?”
    Turning back to the kitchen sink Agnes shrugged. “It’s your choice. They are in his closet upstairs if you would like to use one. Just return it when you come back.”
    The atmosphere in the kitchen had grown cooler again and as usual Kort wondered what he had said or done to cause that change. “I appreciate the offer ma’am. I think I will borrow one.” He saw Agnes’s head nod slightly though, whether in approval or agreement, he could not say.
    When he opened Henry Eriksen’s closet door he was stunned to see all his clothes hung exactly as they had when the man had lived. Suits, pants, shirts were all neatly sorted by color. On the inside of the closet door ties were arranged on specially carved racks. Beside them hung racks of belts and Kort flinched when he saw them. One thick black one made of well worn leather with a large silver buckle hung apart from the others. This was not a belt his father had worn. This belt had a special purpose. Breathing deeply Kort allowed the heady scent of leather to fill his head. Then he reached out and touched the belt almost defiantly. It was just a black belt hanging in a closet, never worn by its late owner. It had no life of its own and could no longer mete out punishment.
    Suddenly Agnes was at his side and Kort jumped guiltily. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked from Kort’s hand on the belt to his eyes. “Did you find one?” Her voice was strangely hoarse.
    Kort surprised himself by answering in a steady voice. “I’m not sure which one would look best.”
    They seemed to stand measuring one another for a moment before Agnes reached past him and selected a dark blue tie with narrow beige stripes. “I’d suggest this one. It goes with the shirt and the pants.” She held it out to him.
    He accepted the tie from her hand suddenly noticing the age spots scattered across skin that used to be smooth and white. “Thank you, ma’am.”
    She nodded briefly. “Well I’ll leave you to it.” Closing the closet door she turned to leave. As she reached the bedroom door she stopped. Without turning around she said softly, “Leave the past lay Kort. You can’t change it. Mistakes were made on all sides.” Before he could reply she seemed to evaporate into the hall, her steps soundless on the new thick carpet she’d had installed using her late husband’s insurance money.
    Kort stood mutely, the tie dangling from his fingers. “What the hell?” He started at the sound of his