As I No Longer Lay Dying (Part V)

This is a continuation. To start from the beginning, click here.


After we had toured the rest of the grounds, long after the tour bus and its tourists had gone, I noticed it. It was located approximately a foot in front of the steps to the veranda, and I had tripped on it an hour earlier. Renee had laughed at my misstep and I said,

“You see that brick there? That would be a perfect addition to my classroom.”

“No,” Renee said, pulling me forward; Renee made the querulous face she makes when I say something as a joke that may or may not be a joke. “You’re not stealing stuff on our vacation.”

“It’s a part of the trip,” I told her. I then added: “Get it? Trip.”

The brick was part of a herringbone pattern. There was something off about it. It wasn’t level, maybe a half-inch higher than the others, but it wasn’t a new brick, either. One of the edges was smoothed by time, and it was wonderfully moss-covered in places. There was nothing to anchor it, such as mortar, except for dead leaves and soil and a lone cedar sprig. I wouldn’t, that is, I didn’t even have to pry it loose. Just pick it up. I said, “I’m sorry, Renee. I’m going to take it. The cosmos clearly wants me to have it.”

“Are you asking me for permission?” Renee said. “If you’re going to take it, take it. Just leave me out of it.”

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