The Evolution of Alice by David Alexander Robertson Page B

back to Edward. He stared at Edward for a long time, as though sizing him up. It made Edward feel a bit sheepish, even though he knew he’d done nothing wrong. In fact, he was sure he’d done just the opposite. He gave the man a half grin and tried to look as trustworthy as possible.
    “I’m not a creep,” Edward added for the sake of clarification.
    Finally, the man nodded.
    “I guess I should thank you for bringing her home, then,” he said. “I couldn’t find her, me. Drove up and down the highway for a while. Must’ve been hidin’ on me or something.”
    “I’m happy to help,” Edward said.
    “So she was just walking down the highway?” the man said.
    “Yeah, she was walking down the highway. Uhhh, said she was headed to Alaska?”
    “Alaska, eh?”
    “Yeah, she thought she could go back in time. Time zones, you know. Kids sometimes get confused by them.”
    At that, the man shook his head. Edward could see the same sadness on the man he’d seen on Kathy.
    “God damn it,” the man said. “Ain’t that the thing.”
    “Why’d she want to do that? Go back in time?”
    “Few weeks back, her little sister got run over and killed, right here in the driveway. Just like that.”
    “That’s awful,” Edward said.
    “Yeah, it’s been pretty awful. Been hard on her, you know. Hard on the whole family,” the man said.
    “They ever find out who did it? Who ran her over?” Edward said.
    “Nah,” the man said, “and I don’t think they’re gonna neither. All we know is that the car had four wheels.”
    “That must make things harder.”
    “Maybe it did at first, but now I think we’re all just trying to heal, you know? Trying not to think about that shit.”
    “I don’t think I’d get over that,” Edward said. “Not knowing.”
    “Well, none of that’s gonna bring her back. You just gotta keep living as best you can without her, and hope she’s somewhere better than here.”
    Less than half an hour later, Edward pulled off the highway into a side road leading up to the cemetery. He parked in front of an old-fashioned white church, complete with a roof shaped like a triangle and a steeple at the front that thrust a small white cross into the heavens. It looked under-used, or even abandoned, judging by the long grass growing up against the cracked steps leading to the front door, which was hanging precariously by one hinge. Still, the church was a pretty little thing and gave off a certain aura particular to churches, whether you believed in what they were built for or not.
    A delicate fence enclosed the cemetery. It was composed of wood posts and wire and a small metal gate Edward pushed open to enter. Since he’d been there last, there were no new residents at the place—still only Jeff’s headstone, which was nearest to the gate, and another, older, headstone near the back corner, the two almost as far away from each other as you could get. They weren’t exactly keeping each other company. In the opposite corner to the other headstone, there was a large pine tree, the only mature tree on the lot, which, Edward learned during Jeff’s burial, had been planted by Jeff himself years earlier. At either side of Jeff’s headstone there were two saplings that would one day mature and become tall pine trees, like guards standing over him. Nicky and her grandma, who had planted the new trees, would be pleased to know they were growing fine.
    Over the next several minutes Edward spent time snapping pictures of everything in front of him; the church, the mature pine tree, the fence, Jeff’s headstone, and, of course, the two saplings (which enjoyed the bulk of Edward’s attention, posing nicely like two models). All told, he took about 50 pictures and, after scanning through them, was quite proud of the quality. He decided some of the pictures might look nice hanging on a wall.
    After putting the camera away, Edward went and stood beside Jeff’s headstone. He didn’t say anything. He was