Jazz Funeral

for your own good—they even lied to each other. How many television dramas had she seen in which a police negotiator talks down a potential roof-leaper with promises that that can’t be kept?
    She followed Dr. Richard into her crammed and messy kitchen. “Bagel and cream cheese?”
    Melody nodded. “Sure.”
    Richard kept talking as she cleared a place on the kitchen table, found a bagel, cut it, and popped it in the microwave. “You must have been through a lot the last few days.”
    A funny wall had come up that made it okay to talk to Richard right now. It was a numbness; Melody wasn’t feeling things at the moment. “It’s been an education,” she said, and even as the words came out, realized they sounded bratty, far too la-di-da to be sincere.
    Richard turned and caught her eyes. “Look, I’m really sorry about Ham.”
    Melody nodded, turned away.
    “Something truly awful must have happened to keep you away from home at a time like this.”
    “Lots of things.”
    “It’s funny—I haven’t heard from your parents.”
    Melody’s heart leaped; that was good. “You haven’t?”
    “I guess they don’t realize how close we are.”
    Close! We aren’t dose. You’re my parents’ hired gun.
    “But of course they’re right not to ask if I’ve heard from you. I wouldn’t tell them if you didn’t want me to.”
    Sure you wouldn’t.
    Richard put the bagel on the table. Melody fell upon it. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was.
    Richard kept talking. “You can take a shower while I’m seeing my client. We can put your clothes through the washer. I’ll go get your medicine while you wait.”
    “And then I can go?”
    “I hope you won’t. Your parents are beside themselves.”
    “I thought you hadn’t talked to them.”
    “Melody, they’ve been on TV and in the paper, begging you to come home—haven’t you noticed?”
    For some reason, that gave her a lump in her throat. Maybe she should just go home. Maybe none of this was worth it. And then she remembered that her life had been irrevocably changed—she had lost more than one kind of innocence. She couldn’t go home.
    “Flip dumped me for Blair,” she blurted.
    “Why, the little creep.”
    Melody laughed. She liked that about Richard, that way she had of being on her side. But it would extend only so far, and she had to remember that.
    “Well, I fixed him. I went out and caught the crabs from the first boy I met.”
    “So was he cute?”
    “He was a doll. And you know what? I sang with the band—he has this band—I sang and people stood around and listened, just like it was a real performance. I’m a pro now, Dr. Richard.”
    “Congratulations.”
    “And I had this love affair, but it’s over now, and I think I’m falling in love again.”
    “With someone else?”
    “Uh-huh.” Richard had poured her orange juice, which she now picked up and drained.
    “You’ve only been gone since Tuesday.”
    “Well, I’ve been busy.”
    Richard let her smile fade. “But you were so close to Ham. You can’t make his death go away, Melody. No matter how much you cram into your life, how late you stay up, how much pot and alcohol you do, how many guys you sleep with—Ham’s still going to be dead.”
    There it was. The shrinkage. She knew Richard couldn’t have a conversation like a normal person—she was what she was—but it still made Melody mad. “Ham’s the reason I ran away in the first place!”
    She blurted it, and now she felt hot tears on her cheeks. Damn! She didn’t need this.
    “Ham? But what did he do to you?”
    “He didn’t feel me up, if that’s what you mean. That’s all anybody over twenty ever thinks about. No, my brother did not molest me. There’s other things that happen. Things so weird nobody’d believe them.”
    “I’d believe them, Melody.”
    She sounded so sanctimonious. Melody could have punched her. “Look, I just want to get out of here.”
    “You need to be home with your family.”
    Watch it, Melody, watch it. She’ll betray you in a minute. Everyone else has.
    She said, “I like being on my own.”
    “What happens when you run out of money? You haven’t even got enough for the crab stuff.”
    “I have friends. People on the street look out for each other.”
    “Won’t you at least talk to your mother? I’ll call her.”
    “No!”
    “Okay, okay. Look. My client’s coming in a minute. Why not go take a shower? And then I’ll take you to get the medicine.”
    No