Free A Nose for Death by Glynis Whiting Page A

far younger than her years. “What kind of life,” she wondered, “had left so few lines and scars?”
    They walked together along the path. Joan did most of the talking. Although Daphne was vague about many things, she did remember that Joan had left in November before they graduated. Daphne too had left early, in May. This was news to Joan and she felt a sudden bond. It was the first time either had been back to Madden. She asked Daphne what changes were most surprising to her.
    â€œThe school seems bigger, especially the gym. But it’s been so many years.” She spoke haltingly.
    Joan was puzzled. “But that school wasn’t built until a dozen years after we left.” She looked at Daphne with concern. She had heard of people with early onset dementia. Was that what was happening to Daphne? Was it safe for her to be out on the paths by herself? “Daph, are you okay?”
    The other woman shot her a nervous glance. But there was something else in her eyes. Anger? “It hasn’t been a walk in the garden, Joan. After I left Madden, I got sick. Encephalitis,” Daphne offered curtly.
    Joan knew of this condition, the devastating swelling of the brain. The effects were frightening. A lot of patients died. One woman she knew, a lab technician at Constellation, had been a victim of West Nile virus that resulted in encephalitis. It had taken months for her to regain her speech, and now she was confined to a wheelchair.
    Daphne continued. “They never found out why or how I got it, just one of those things. It destroyed my long-term memory. Besides that, I’m fine. Better than anyone expected.”
    â€œI’m so sorry, Daphne.”
    Daphne brushed it off. “I’m one of the lucky ones.” Then she chuckled, almost to herself. “I prefer not to live in the past - because I can’t. It makes for some awkward social situations. I almost didn’t come to the reunion.”
    So the prettiest girl in high school had also had reservations about returning to Madden. Joan didn’t usually take the initiative to make physical contact, but she felt drawn to thread her arm through Daphne’s arm. Silently, she reprimanded herself for her own whining about making the trip. What a self-pitying loser. Her life had only improved since she left town. Her hurdles led to accomplishments. Daphne was far braver than she. She would forgive her for looking so great.
    â€œYou’re staying with Peg. How did you guys reconnect after all these years?”
    â€œShe called me out of the blue,” said Daphne. “I have to say, I was surprised to be invited since I wasn’t on the graduating list.”
    â€œSame here,” added Joan. She marvelled at the similarities in their journeys to Madden.
    â€œShe even invited me to stay with her. By the time I got here, though, she was puking all over the place. Poor Peg. Knocked the stuffing out of her going out this morning. I had to put her back to bed before I came out.”
    The two women decided to have lunch together. As they walked through the woods, then into the modest downtown core, Daphne shared her story. She had married less than a year after leaving Madden. Then she got sick. After her recovery, she had a little girl. She hardly mentioned her husband, an insurance salesman, but spoke dreamily of her child and their fairytale relationship. Patti had excelled in school and gone onto college. Patti could have done anything, but had settled on hair and esthetics. She now owned her own beauty salon. Daphne worked with her, scheduling appointments and ordering supplies, keeping the place spick-and-span.
    In their youth Main Street had been the only commercial street in Madden. The gravel road had been muddy in spring and choked with dust in the summer. On either side of the street there had been modest shops: a hardware, sewing-machine shop, drug store, all practical, nothing more glamorous than an