Fishhook

A story about a bus ride.

After I got on the bus, I had some time to think. A minute earlier, watching the cop ride away on his bike, I had almost felt grateful to him. He didn’t know it, but he had really helped me out.

“Professor! How’s it going today?”
“The same as usual. Just an ordinary day.”
“That’s good, that’s good, we don’t need anymore excitement around here…”
“Why do you say that, Officer?”
“Well, don’t go spreading this around too much, but you know that young man that drowned in the harbor last month?”
“Sure, I remember.”
“Well, a couple forensic specialists came down from the capital, and they say the cuts on his body couldn’t have been caused by the rocks. They’re too clean, for one thing, and they bled, which means they must have made while he was still alive.”
“Wow. What does that mean?”
“Well, it means it might not have been a suicide.”
“You mean it was murder?”
“Well, we don’t know yet. It could have been an accident. I mean, maybe the kid cut himself up. He already had a record, you know. Drugs, stealing. He was real messed up, a maladjusted type. But we’re looking into every possibility. Anyway, it means I get to do some real police work for a change.” He laughed.
“If it is… criminal. Do you have any suspects?”
“No, no. But it looks like this kid was of a certain persuasion, if you catch my meaning. The specialists were able to retrieve some semen samples. So, we’ll know who to talk to when the test results come back.”
“Wow. How long will that be?”
“Oh, probably sometime tonight. They put a rush on it. Hey, listen, I’ve gotta get going. Don’t go spreading any of this stuff around, remember? If there is foul play you wouldn’t wanna tip the perp off, would you?”
“No, of course not. Have a nice day, Officer.”
“Same to you, Professor!”

I was glad I was on the bus. It relieved me of the pressure to act. It would take a little more than an hour for it to reach its destination, and there were no stops in between. Until then, there were no decisions I could make, no forks in the path. I could consider my options without losing any time.

My first decision: I couldn’t go back. That much was certain. I would miss the little room I had rented on the hill overlooking the water, but my time there was over. I would probably never see the ocean again.