“They’re coming here,” he said, when he hung up the phone. “They’ll be here in two hours. We have to clean up this place.”

“She’s dead? Your aunt is dead? How could she die?”

“She had a heart attack. Come on, let’s get dressed. They’re coming here.”

“We have to clean up that bathroom. We have to get that smell out of here.”

“Where’s the cat?” he asked. “Have you seen that goddamn cat this morning?”

Two hours later we were dressed and standing by the door. We had made up the bed, packed my bags, mopped the bathroom floor a dozen times, thrown the stained towels in the outdoor shed, emptied the wastebaskets, and fed the cat. We were very quiet as we did these things. Even I could not think of anything to say in the face of this enigma. One minute she was standing in the hallway telling us goodbye, the next minute we were making love in her bed. A moment later I had spilled her douche stuff all over the bathroom floor. I had stuck the nozzle of her douche bag up in my body at the moment of her death perhaps. Maybe she knew what we were doing and it killed her. No, she wouldn’t care. She just died to keep from being lonely. And I was going to be lonely too when Malcolm left. This weekend would be over and I would be alone again. Not the whole Chi Omega sorority or my momma or daddy or brothers or Charles William or anyone at all would do now. Only one touch could save me. This tall cold boy whose body had entered mine. This boy I had to have.

“Malcolm.” I looked up at him. I had been putting water in the bowl for the cat. “I have to be where you are. I’m coming here this summer and go to Emory. I really am. Say you want me to. Say you want me here.”

“I want you here. I said I did.”

“Say it again. I have to hear it every fifteen minutes. I’m scared of death, Malcolm. When someone dies, it’s like it happens to me. I’ve been scared of it all my life. It’s too horrible. How can people disappear? We were talking to her. She could have died while we were in her bed making love. Think of that.” I moved near to him. I touched his sleeve.

“Let’s wait outside for them,” he said. “I think we ought to wait outside.”

“I feel like we’ve been in this house a month. Oh, Malcolm.” I put my arms around him. Tried to pull his body into mine.

“Not now. Don’t mess up my shirt. We have to go to the funeral home. We have to go see about the body.”

“I’m going too?”