Free Bathing the Lion by Jonathan Carroll

beautiful, and obscure. More important, they had never told anyone the names they chose for their children. Both thought if they did it would jinx their chances of it happening.
    But they never were able to have children, although they tried for years. It had made Lola’s death even more difficult for Edmonds to bear because when she was gone there was no physical trace left of her. A child; how wonderful it would have been to have had their child to hold his hand during those days of black grief after his wife’s death.
    “I’m here to stay with you now a while.”
    “What do you mean, stay ?”
    Josephine finished eating from his plate and licked her fingers one by one. “Lola was wearing her faded rose robe when you gave her the elephant. While she opened the package she kept looking at you and then the box. She was excited because she thought it was going to be something really good. She kept asking what was inside but you wouldn’t say. When she saw what it was, you could tell how disappointed she was. Because the box was small, she was hoping you’d brought her a piece of jewelry, which she loved, like a nice ring or earrings. But there was only the dumb yellow elephant instead. She tried to pretend she liked it, but you knew she didn’t. Lola wasn’t very good at pretending, remember?”
    Edmonds said nothing. Lola was terrible at pretending.
    The girl stared at him, her expression saying nothing. “Do you want me to tell you other things?”
    He didn’t know what to say.
    Afterward they left the diner together. The fifteen-minute walk back to his house was done in silence. Josephine didn’t seem to mind. She skipped most of the way there, sometimes lagging behind, sometimes running way up ahead of him. Edmonds didn’t notice. He looked at his boots mostly. Thick comfortable Red Wing boots he’d bought at a store in Seattle while visiting another Marine friend out there after he’d retired. That was what, six years ago? Seven? Time doesn’t fly, it steals . Like some skilled pickpocket or magician, it gets you to look the other way and when you do, it ruthlessly steals your essential things—memories, great moments that end much too soon, the lives of those you love. It knows how to trick you and then steal you blind. What had he done on that Seattle trip? He couldn’t really remember anymore except for a few silly details. Why hadn’t Lola gone with him? He couldn’t remember. He’d bought these boots. He’d bought these boots and eaten lots of fried oysters. And now here was this mysterious child telling him things about his own life he should have remembered but didn’t.
    While skipping along in front of him, the girl asked over her shoulder, “Do you remember anything?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Tenbrink. Do you remember what that is?”
    “Ten what ? No.”
    “What about Pipetoe?”
    Pipetoe ?
    When Edmonds didn’t respond, Josephine craned her head forward and nodded slowly in an exaggerated way, as if he were very dumb and she was trying to encourage him to give the correct answer.
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Grassmugg or red slap? The House Inside the Horse ? Come on, you’ve got to remember some of those things! No? Really? Wow. All right, forget it. Where were you born?”
    Edmonds stopped walking. “New York.”
    “Where?”
    “Doctors Hospital.”
    “When?”
    “In 1949.”
    Josephine slapped her cheek in obvious exasperation. Turning away, she skipped off down the street. He could only follow her.
    She was waiting on the porch of his house by the front door when he walked up the path.
    He reached into his pocket for the keys. “Where’s your Christmas tree? Did you leave it back at the diner?”
    “No, it’s inside on your kitchen table. I thought you would like it there.”
    Edmonds scowled but said nothing. Pushing her gently aside, he unlocked the front door with the key Lola had once used and walked into his house.
    “There, look.” Before he had a