Within Arm's Reach Read Online Free PDF

arm out, or yell for help. I will never get over how fast it happened. One minute I was sitting on my heels eating a sandwich and listening to Eddie. The next minute I was standing on the edge of the roof, looking down at the young man lying in a patch of tall grass. His voice still rang in the air.
    I am on my knees in one of the pews, but I have not yet uttered a prayer. Eddie is dead on the cross in front of me, Catharine is hurt down the hall. I don’t know why I continue to try to fix things. There’s no point, but I can’t seem to get that through my thick head. It was because I tried to help Vince that the foolish man sabotaged the town council meeting this afternoon and made everyone in the room uncomfortable. I guess you could call Vince and me friends, but it’s the kind of friendship that grows out of shared history rather than mutual respect. I’ve been keeping an eye out for him this past year, since his wife, Cynthia, passed away. Several times, in a wine-induced fog, he has yelled at me about the fact that I am buying up all the land in sight and trying to take this town of Ramsey away from him. After each blowup Vince is embarrassed, and we go through a few awkward weeks, like this one. He probably ran right from the meeting to his barbershop on Main Street, where he will sit with the down-and-out group of guys who are his regulars and who firmly believe the mayor can do no wrong, even if that means him drinking himself into oblivion.
    I can’t entirely blame Vince for his behavior. I don’t know how I would react, or what kind of life I would lead, if I lost Kelly. And yet the truth is that I am in danger of finding out. My wife is barely speaking to me, and I can’t blame her. She tried to help me after Eddie’s funeral, but I pushed her away. I’ve continued to push her away. Lately, I have taken to sleeping on the couch in the den, though neither one of us has mentioned that fact out loud. I feel safer there, in the small dark room with the flickering light of television, than I do in our master bedroom. I don’t fit well on the couch, but I am able to sleep L-shaped with my legs on the coffee table. It’s actually fairly comfortable. I keep the news on all night, the volume low. With the muffled noise in my ears I seem to dream less often and fall asleep more easily. The television keeps me from making up pictures in my head. From hearing voices I don’t want to hear. From replaying over and over the afternoon Eddie died.
    There is a light pressure on my shoulder, and I jump. I am on my feet and face-to-face with the person before I recognize the nurse who checked Catharine in.
    “Is she okay?” I ask. I wonder how long I’ve been in here. Ten minutes? An hour?
    “Mrs. McLaughlin’s been checked out. You can both go.”
    I follow the nurse down the hall. She is a large woman, rectangular-shaped. A white hat perches on her curls like a boat trying to hold on amid treacherous waves. I pose a question to her back. “Do you know if Nurse Ortiz is on duty?”
    She doesn’t turn around. “No nurse by that name in this hospital.”
    “Are you sure? I know she works here.”
    “Not under that name. Is she married?”
    “She was.” The words are lodged deep in my throat. It takes a cough to get them out. “She was married.”
    “Maybe she works under her maiden name. Know that?”
    I know where she lives. I know that she is bringing up two small children on her own. I know that she appears to be doing all right, from what I’ve been able to see. “No.”
    The nurse shrugs with her entire upper body, but the hat still stays in place and I realize I am done following her. I am in the room with Catharine and my daughter, who looks as pale and tired as I feel.
    ON THE WAY home from the hospital, I say, in as casual a tone as I can muster, “How are we going to deal with this? Will you make an appointment with a specialist, or should I?”
    “There’s nothing to deal with, Louis. The