I go to work. I’m not sure why. I don’t have class today and I don’t have office hours today, but I go anyway, maybe because I think I’m supposed to, because it will look right, it will look normal, but I can’t think about the law. I can only think about her. I try to read from the e-bulletin I receive every Monday about new Fourth Amendment decisions handed down around the country, but all I can think about is her. I try to focus on my new law review article on the good-faith exception to the warrant requirement, but all I can think about is her. I put on my headphones and jam the loudest music I can find, Metallica and Rage Against the Machine— Trapped in myself, body my holding cell
An empty glass of himself shattered somewhere within —turning it up louder and louder and louder but all I can think about is Lauren Lauren Lauren Lauren LAUREN.
? ? ?
I open my eyes. I’m home. I got home. Right, I drove home.
I’m in the basement, in the dark. I don’t have to do this. I don’t have to do this.
You don’t have to do this.
Simon Peter Dobias: You can let this go. You can let her go.
? ? ?
I go to the pantry and open it up. Six hundred forty pieces of candy, four bags of a hundred sixty each. Happy Halloween.
What time is it? After three. Trick or treating starts at four in Grace Park, an hour later than the Village.
Waiting. The waiting is ripping a hole through my stomach. Nothing I can do but grit it out. Deep breaths now, Simon. Deep breaths.
Why always “trick or treat” and never, ever “treat or trick?” It means the same thing. So does “jelly and peanut butter” or “cream ’n’ cookies” or “white and black.”
Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat.
Why do feet smell and noses run?
You’re okay, Simon, you’re okay.
Getting close to four. You’ll need to answer the door. You’ll need to smile and hand out candy. You’ll need to be seen handing out candy, you want people to say, Yes, yes, Simon Dobias was home. Yes, he was home handing out candy, why? Why do you ask, Officer? You think Simon Dobias went over to Lauren Betancourt’s house and shot her in the head because she trampled over everything that mattered to him and laughed about it? Just walked away like he didn’t matter and laughed about it? Well no, Officer, no.
He was home handing out candy.
? ? ?
Upstairs, my legs shaking but I’ve made it upstairs.
It’s not four yet and I’m not sure yet if I can answer the door and go through with it, not sure I can smile and hand out candy and say, “Happy Halloween!” But I know I can. I can do this. I can do this. Of course I can do this, but I need to charge my phone, not the green phone but my normal phone, my iPhone, gotta charge it up by my nightstand. The drawer is ajar and I never leave the door ajar. I open it up and look inside the drawer— Vicky’s wedding ring. The one she was wearing this morning.
The ring I once nervously slid on her finger.
She said no the first time I asked her.
? ? ?
“Happy Halloween! Go ahead and take a couple!”
“Thank you!”
“You’re welcome!” and wave to the parents with their umbrellas because it’s sprinkling, Hey, remember me, remember me I’m Simon Dobias if anyone asks whether I （a） was home handing out candy or （b） was over at Lauren’s house putting a bullet in her head because this time I couldn’t let it go. It isn’t over.
? ? ?
“Happy Halloween! Go ahead and take a bunch, here, take like five each!”
Five-thirty.
? ? ?
“Happy Halloween! Go ahead and take as many as you want!”
Six-fifteen.
? ? ?
I go upstairs and open my bedroom closet and look to the far right. Pull out the costume I bought last year but didn’t wear to a party I was supposed to attend. A Grim Reaper costume. All black, long robe, elongated hood. It’s never been worn. I decided not to go to the party. It was some student’s Halloween bash, and you have to be careful socializing with students, so I decided against it at the last minute.
I pick up my iPhone, still charging on the nightstand.
I pull up Netflix. I turn on House of Cards. I scroll through the synopses of season one and remind myself of the characters’ names—Frank, Claire, Zoe, Peter, Stamper—and the general plot. Then I turn on season one, episode one.
I get dressed. Blue suit and red tie. Put the Barack Obama mask over my head. I’m roughly the same build as the former president, so other than the obvious difference in skin pigment, it’s a pretty good look. I’m Barack Obama, the forty-fourth president of the United States.