Free Except the Queen by Jane Yolen, Midori Snyder Page B

buck and two doe. They lay down around her, the sheltering warmth of their bodies lulling her into a deep, irenic sleep. In the morning, only the tear in the fabric of her jeans and the pucker of a new scar remained.
    “So are you doing all right?” Marti asked.
    Sparrow blinked, aware that she had been silently stirring her tea much too long. Taking a sip, she smiled. “Yeah. I’m okay, really. Just got caught up in Saturday-night blues, I guess.” She broke off a piece of the toast and handed it to Lily, who had awoken and was now sitting with her head on Sparrow’s knee.
    “You know a bunch of us are going to a late lunch at The Twisted Fork, around two. Why don’t you join us?” Marti offered. “It’s good to get out once in a while, you know. You’ve been living like a nun in this house.”
    Sparrow ducked her head and freed a cigarette from her pack. She put it between her lips and pulled a small tin ashtray closer to her. She was going to light it until she noticed the frown of disapproval on Marti’s face. She put it down with a sigh and saw the clock, telling her she was late.
    “Yeah, maybe I have, lately,” Sparrow admitted. “I’ll try and make it. And thanks for the tea too,” she said in a rush. “I better hurry and get going.” Sparrow reached underthe table for her sneakers and put them on with a rough jerk. Lily stood up, her tail thumping in expectation of a walk. Sparrow grabbed the leash and clicked it onto Lily’s collar. “I promise, I’ll stop by after work,” she added as Marti, teacup in hand, headed for her bedroom.
    “Later, then,” Marti called, with a wave of her hand.
    Sparrow and Lily bounded down the stairs to the front door, Lily growling in the back of her throat when she passed the door to the downstairs apartment. “Assholes,” Sparrow muttered. Had she threatened to call the cops on them last night?
At least they were as drunk as I was
, she thought. And maybe they wouldn’t remember who had spoiled their fun. Their payback was always nasty.
    Outside, smoking a cigarette and waiting for Lily to hurry up and pee, Sparrow kicked the plastic skull half buried in the dirt and made a note to herself to finally dig the creepy thing out when she had the time. But right now if she and the dog didn’t hurry, Sparrow was going to be late for work.
    “Come on Lily, yer done!” she shouted and jerked the dog back up the stairs. Pausing on the landing, Sparrow remembered seeing a woman standing outside her door late in the night. Had she imagined it? The face looked lost, childlike and old at the same time. Sparrow shook her head. It was a face out of her dreams, one from a lineup of foster parents perhaps, laced with half a bottle of tequila. Forget it, she told herself.
    *   *   *
    A N HOUR LATER S PARROW UNLOCKED the door to The Constant Reader Bookshop, and was greeted by the jangle of tattle bells hanging on the door. She inhaled the musty aroma of book dust, and turned the sign on the door from CLOSED to OPEN . It was Sunday, and she knew there would be few customers in the small shop, which suited her just fine. Throughout the morning she worked alone, straightening shelves, and boxing upbooks for return on Monday. The first customer, an elderly gentleman named Frank who came every Sunday to read the papers, didn’t show up until midmorning, just as Sparrow was opening the new boxes of books and entering them into the computer. Sparrow smiled at the old man and left the counter to make sure the tea urns were filled with water. Frank liked his tea good and hot.
    Sparrow worked through lunch and then, catching sight of the time on the store clock, made the decision to join Marti and her friends.
Why not
, she thought.
Just this once.
It had been a long time since she’d gone out. Sparrow called gently to the old man who was half dozing behind his paper in one of the store’s big overstuffed chairs.
    “Hey, Frank, I’m closing up early today.”
    “Yeah?