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Eye of the Witch
Dana E. Donovan
One
I had that dream again; the one where Doctor Lowell tied me to that damn tree and is coming at me with a knife.
Only in my dream, I am younger, much younger, like maybe by forty years. Lilith is there, too, but she is not tied
to the tree with me this time; she’s standing on the sideline with Carlos. They are talking and laughing and
playing with that confounded witch’s ladder. I scream for one of them to untie a knot on the ladder. But they pay
no attention. They cannot hear me. My screams are only in my head. Carlos leans in and kisses Lilith. She pulls
back and giggles. I think to myself, that is so unlike her. I have never seen her giggle before. Then the two of
them look back at me, and wave just before the mad doctor plunges his knife into my chest, I wake up, dripping
in sweat, my heart pounding harder than a sixty-four-year-old heart has a right to. In the old days, I would have
shrugged it off, grabbed a cigarette and a shot of whiskey and then maybe gone back to bed. But my days of
smoke and whiskey seem more distant than that young detective I left tied to that tree in my dreams.
I got up and fixed myself a grapefruit and guava smoothie, and as I sat drinking it, thumbing through that silly
string of beads that I brought down from New Castle, the phone rang. I looked at the clock on the wall and saw
that it was almost midnight. I knew right away exactly who was on the other end.
“Hello, Carlos,” I said. “What do you want?”
“Tony! How did you know it was me?”
“I could tell from the ring.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Now, what do you want?”
“Jeez, Tony, can’t I call an old pal to say hi? I didn’t wake you, did I? I mean, I know how you like to stay up
late watching old westerns and…. You were up, right?”
“I was up, yes. But it’s nearly midnight. I know you didn’t call just to say hi. Is everything all right up there?”
He grew silent. My experience told me that he had a whole ice-breaking spiel ready for me, but that I had
derailed his train of thought. It was somewhat selfish of me, really. I guess I owed him that much. We had not
talked for a while, maybe six or seven months, or just after I moved away. It all came to a head after our last case
together. I just sort of lost it. I grew despondent, and my carelessness nearly got us both killed in a car wreck.
That’s when I knew I had to retire. My captain recommended the condominiums at Del Rio Vista. He said his
mother lived there and loved it, said it was a great place to launch the exciting second half of my life. What he
meant was it’s a great place to go and die. Just look at his mother. For years he had been sending her checks every
month for room and board, and a card on Mother’s Day that said: Thinking of you, Mom, on your special day.
Last month she slipped into a coma and passed. It took four days before anyone noticed. I suppose living at Del Rio Vista was just too much excitement for the old girl. In the back of my mind, I believe the captain found some
relief in the news. He had to know that his mother was fading like old denim.
But Carlos never expected I’d hate it in Florida. I’m sure he hated to see me leave New Castle, but he believed
it was for the best. He promised he would come down a couple of times a year to do some fishing with me. Yet,
he has not. I don’t blame him, though. Detective work is all-consuming. It is the reason he is still single, the
reason I never married. I let him stew in silence a while longer before finally letting him off the hook.
“Carlos, it’s okay that you haven’t called me before now. I know you’re busy.”
“Yeah?”
“Sure. Fact is, I’ve been busy, too.”
“You have?”
“You kidding? Man, what with all the biking, swimming, canoeing, golfing, shuffleboard, bingo, cocktail
parties and socializing; I don’t know if I would have had the time to talk anyway.” All right, so I lied to him.
Truth was that I had not done half those things in years; the other half I have never done at all.
“Really?” he said, relieved.
“Yeah, but, hey, I have time for you now. So, tell me. How have you been? Did you make captain yet?”
“Me? Come on, Tony. That’s not my gig. I’m a field guy. You know that. The minute they promote me to
captain, I’m taking that retirement train straight down to Florida where I can start really enjoying myself—like
you.”
“Right, like me. Well, you know, all in good time. Don’t rush things, my friend. I’m sure the force is in no
hurry to lose you. I imagine they’re keeping you busy up there, eh?”
I said that, and he went quiet again. It’s funny how two friends can sense when something is not quite right
between them. I thought for a moment he had detected the discontent in my voice, but I wasn’t sure. Carlos
Rodriquez and I had worked together for nearly thirty years, and in that time we both learned more about the
other than either intentionally divulged. I assumed he was simply feeling the void in my words, but as soon as he
spoke again, I realized that it was his misapprehensions I felt, and not he feeling mine.
“Carlos? Is something wrong?”
“Tony, I probably should not have called you tonight. You have your life there now. You know, it’s late, I
didn’t realize. How `bout I call you back another time and we’ll—”
“Carlos, no! Look, I am up. You called me. There’s something going on that you thought I should know. Now
what is it?”
He hesitated. “I don’t….”
“Caaaaarlos.”
“All right. Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to burden you. It’s just that….”
“Damn it, Carlos! Spill it!”
I heard him take a deep breath and snort it out like a bull. “Okay, I’m just looking for advice, though, that’s
all.”
“Fine. That’s all you’ll get.”
“All right, then here it is. I have this case I’ve sort of been working on.”
“I figured that.”
“Yeah, but it’s not just any case. It’s a real conundrum, and if you’re not looking at it just right, it appears not
much of a case at all.”
“Maybe it’s not,” I said. “Sometimes things are what they seem.”
“Yes, but if there is one thing I learned working with you, it’s that you have got to trust your instincts, and my
gut instincts tells me that there’s something going on here: something big.”
“All right, wait a minute.” I set the phone down on the kitchen table and poured another glass of grapefruit and
guava. I took a sip, smacking my lips for the tartness before returning the pitcher to the fridge. As I put the phone
back to my ear, I could hear Carlos rambling on without pausing between breaths. “Carlos!” I said. I think I was
laughing. “Carlos, slow down! I told you to wait a minute. I was getting something to drink. Start over.”
“What? You didn’t hear what I said?”
“Not a word. Now, start from the beginning, and slow it down. I think half of what you were saying was in
Spanish, anyway.”
Dana E. Donovan
One
I had that dream again; the one where Doctor Lowell tied me to that damn tree and is coming at me with a knife.
Only in my dream, I am younger, much younger, like maybe by forty years. Lilith is there, too, but she is not tied
to the tree with me this time; she’s standing on the sideline with Carlos. They are talking and laughing and
playing with that confounded witch’s ladder. I scream for one of them to untie a knot on the ladder. But they pay
no attention. They cannot hear me. My screams are only in my head. Carlos leans in and kisses Lilith. She pulls
back and giggles. I think to myself, that is so unlike her. I have never seen her giggle before. Then the two of
them look back at me, and wave just before the mad doctor plunges his knife into my chest, I wake up, dripping
in sweat, my heart pounding harder than a sixty-four-year-old heart has a right to. In the old days, I would have
shrugged it off, grabbed a cigarette and a shot of whiskey and then maybe gone back to bed. But my days of
smoke and whiskey seem more distant than that young detective I left tied to that tree in my dreams.
I got up and fixed myself a grapefruit and guava smoothie, and as I sat drinking it, thumbing through that silly
string of beads that I brought down from New Castle, the phone rang. I looked at the clock on the wall and saw
that it was almost midnight. I knew right away exactly who was on the other end.
“Hello, Carlos,” I said. “What do you want?”
“Tony! How did you know it was me?”
“I could tell from the ring.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Now, what do you want?”
“Jeez, Tony, can’t I call an old pal to say hi? I didn’t wake you, did I? I mean, I know how you like to stay up
late watching old westerns and…. You were up, right?”
“I was up, yes. But it’s nearly midnight. I know you didn’t call just to say hi. Is everything all right up there?”
He grew silent. My experience told me that he had a whole ice-breaking spiel ready for me, but that I had
derailed his train of thought. It was somewhat selfish of me, really. I guess I owed him that much. We had not
talked for a while, maybe six or seven months, or just after I moved away. It all came to a head after our last case
together. I just sort of lost it. I grew despondent, and my carelessness nearly got us both killed in a car wreck.
That’s when I knew I had to retire. My captain recommended the condominiums at Del Rio Vista. He said his
mother lived there and loved it, said it was a great place to launch the exciting second half of my life. What he
meant was it’s a great place to go and die. Just look at his mother. For years he had been sending her checks every
month for room and board, and a card on Mother’s Day that said: Thinking of you, Mom, on your special day.
Last month she slipped into a coma and passed. It took four days before anyone noticed. I suppose living at Del Rio Vista was just too much excitement for the old girl. In the back of my mind, I believe the captain found some
relief in the news. He had to know that his mother was fading like old denim.
But Carlos never expected I’d hate it in Florida. I’m sure he hated to see me leave New Castle, but he believed
it was for the best. He promised he would come down a couple of times a year to do some fishing with me. Yet,
he has not. I don’t blame him, though. Detective work is all-consuming. It is the reason he is still single, the
reason I never married. I let him stew in silence a while longer before finally letting him off the hook.
“Carlos, it’s okay that you haven’t called me before now. I know you’re busy.”
“Yeah?”
“Sure. Fact is, I’ve been busy, too.”
“You have?”
“You kidding? Man, what with all the biking, swimming, canoeing, golfing, shuffleboard, bingo, cocktail
parties and socializing; I don’t know if I would have had the time to talk anyway.” All right, so I lied to him.
Truth was that I had not done half those things in years; the other half I have never done at all.
“Really?” he said, relieved.
“Yeah, but, hey, I have time for you now. So, tell me. How have you been? Did you make captain yet?”
“Me? Come on, Tony. That’s not my gig. I’m a field guy. You know that. The minute they promote me to
captain, I’m taking that retirement train straight down to Florida where I can start really enjoying myself—like
you.”
“Right, like me. Well, you know, all in good time. Don’t rush things, my friend. I’m sure the force is in no
hurry to lose you. I imagine they’re keeping you busy up there, eh?”
I said that, and he went quiet again. It’s funny how two friends can sense when something is not quite right
between them. I thought for a moment he had detected the discontent in my voice, but I wasn’t sure. Carlos
Rodriquez and I had worked together for nearly thirty years, and in that time we both learned more about the
other than either intentionally divulged. I assumed he was simply feeling the void in my words, but as soon as he
spoke again, I realized that it was his misapprehensions I felt, and not he feeling mine.
“Carlos? Is something wrong?”
“Tony, I probably should not have called you tonight. You have your life there now. You know, it’s late, I
didn’t realize. How `bout I call you back another time and we’ll—”
“Carlos, no! Look, I am up. You called me. There’s something going on that you thought I should know. Now
what is it?”
He hesitated. “I don’t….”
“Caaaaarlos.”
“All right. Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to burden you. It’s just that….”
“Damn it, Carlos! Spill it!”
I heard him take a deep breath and snort it out like a bull. “Okay, I’m just looking for advice, though, that’s
all.”
“Fine. That’s all you’ll get.”
“All right, then here it is. I have this case I’ve sort of been working on.”
“I figured that.”
“Yeah, but it’s not just any case. It’s a real conundrum, and if you’re not looking at it just right, it appears not
much of a case at all.”
“Maybe it’s not,” I said. “Sometimes things are what they seem.”
“Yes, but if there is one thing I learned working with you, it’s that you have got to trust your instincts, and my
gut instincts tells me that there’s something going on here: something big.”
“All right, wait a minute.” I set the phone down on the kitchen table and poured another glass of grapefruit and
guava. I took a sip, smacking my lips for the tartness before returning the pitcher to the fridge. As I put the phone
back to my ear, I could hear Carlos rambling on without pausing between breaths. “Carlos!” I said. I think I was
laughing. “Carlos, slow down! I told you to wait a minute. I was getting something to drink. Start over.”
“What? You didn’t hear what I said?”
“Not a word. Now, start from the beginning, and slow it down. I think half of what you were saying was in
Spanish, anyway.”
