The Entirely Fabricated Story of Lizzie Nickerson

Chapter 58

Once the bagged body was loaded into the Medical Examiner's truck (or as Tarpick called it, 'the meat wagon'), the onlookers gradually dispersed. A police officer armed with a garden hose, sprayed the blood, body fluids, and bone chips from the sidewalk.

Ms. Margery Brennan peeked out through her first-floor window and then abruptly pulled her blinds shut.

Frazier Stoudemire exited the apartment building, legal pad in hand, and from the porch discovered Mitch Tarpick receiving treatment in the back of an EMT wagon. He looked like he'd gazed upon Medusa and had been turned to stone. His son, Montego Belmont knelt on the pavement, more concerned with wiping vomit from his guitar case than with his father's medical condition.

Officer Delvin Ott emerged from the building with a push broom in hand. "They did a shitty job cleaning up this sidewalk," he said to Frazier. He descended the porch steps and went to work sweeping up the remaining shards of glass and gravel as a fellow police officer took down the crime scene tape, coiling it around her hand as she walked the perimeter.

Leaning against a parking meter was Indigo Finch. When her eyes caught Frazier's, she flashed the peace sign and offered an apologetic grin. "Okay if I go back up there now and see my little girl?"

"My work is done here," he said.

"Look, man," she said. "Sorry I freaked out–"

He cut her off with a raised hand. "I get it."

As she ascended the porch steps on her way into the building, Stoudemire said, "Lizzie is a remarkable young lady. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know."

"Right on." She nodded in agreement.

She climbed the stairs to the third floor and knocked on the door.

Expecting the detective, Sonya was surprised to see her sister in the hallway.

"He said it's cool if I'm up here," Indigo said. "That cop."

Sonya opened the door wider, allowing her sister to enter. "Lizzie's back in her room," she said.

At the end of the hallway, in Lizzie's bedroom, Indigo found her daughter at the window watching the vehicles driving away.

"Hey, you," she said.

Lizzie didn't respond, nor did she turn to face her mother.

Indigo crossed the room, stopping a few feet away. "So, you okay?"

"I'm fine," said Lizzie.

"You're very brave," Indigo said.

Lizzie shrugged.

"You've always been brave."

"How was the festival?" Lizzie asked.

"Uh, it was okay."

"Was that Drongo band good?"

"We were expecting more musicians to show, but Black Drongo rocked the house. People felt the energy, for real."

Lizzie was going to ask, "What house?" but instead said, "Were there bells?"

"Yeah. A few."

"Good."

Indigo advanced and lightly placed her hand on Lizzie's shoulder. She felt her daughter flinch but she didn't pull away.

"I'm so proud of you going to that science, technology academy or whatever. That's totally amazing."

"Yeah, I guess."

"I haven't told you that enough. That I'm proud of you. And what an awesome human being you are." A tear rolled down her cheek.

"Oh geez. How could you tell me? That doesn't even make sense. You haven't seen me in years."

"I think about you every single day."

Lizzie said nothing as she watched the last of the police cars drive off.

"Sonya's been good for you. I knew she would be." Indigo wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand. "I'm just not very good at being a mom."

"I know."

Indigo leaned her head on Lizzie's shoulder fully expecting Lizzie to bolt away, but she didn't.

"It's taken me a long time, man, to get my head around to the idea that you're not a smaller version of me." Indigo's voice almost disappeared. She gulped down hard and then cleared her throat. "You're your own person. And that's amazing."

Lizzie wasn't prepared to react to the warm, wet head leaning against her shoulder whispering things that came straight from the heart. Indigo had never before exhibited this kind of emotional behavior and so Lizzie remained in place, waiting for the moments to pass, struggling to think of some appropriate response. But none came.

Finally, Indigo said, "You should totally come out to Colorado and visit me sometime. It's really beautiful country out there. Would you like that?"

"Not really."

"Okay."

Lizzie said, "Why don't you come back here and visit me?"

"Yeah. That's a good idea. I will definitely do that."

........

The following day, an article on page 3 of The Cincinnati Enquirer was headlined, 'Local Man Killed in Bizarre Accident.' The short article read, "According to a police spokesperson, the victim identified as Tyson Russko, broke into an apartment in the city's east end, spent some time smoking methamphetamine before charging upstairs apparently to attack a woman and her fifteen-year-old niece (name of minor withheld). When his attempted break-in was thwarted, Russko rushed out of the building and was killed when he was struck by a fishbowl that had fallen out of an open window. A detective at the scene said, "I mean, what are the odds?"

Frazier Stoudemire had dictated Lizzie's witness statement to Sonya. He knew it was unethical, even illegal, but he and Sonya had depleted their options. After a prolonged 'discussion,' they managed to convince Lizzie to sign the statement under protest.

"Oh, geez," she said. "Putting a fishbowl on a windowsill doesn't even make sense."

"I know," he replied.

Given Tyson Russko's reputation as a dumb-ass loser and his penchant for smoking methamphetamine, no one deemed his demise suspicious. In fact, most didn't give it a second thought. As far as they were concerned, he got what was coming to him. The only surprising aspect of Tyson's story was that he managed to survive as long as he did. The case was closed before his corpse arrived at the morgue.