Page 123 of Not Quite Dead Yet

‘Where are you going?’ Dianne called just before they reached the door.

Jet turned back. ‘Home,’ she said. ‘Billy’s.’

Mom released her balled-up hands. ‘C-come home for dinner?’ She shrank as she said it, eyes heavy and swimming. ‘We won’t have many more chances, for the family to be together and …’

Jet softened, an ache in her chest that hurt her in small ways, not like the one inside her head.

‘Tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I promise.’ And she meant it.

Mom brightened, almost a smile, not quite making it. ‘Tomorrow,’ she said, accepting Jet’s promise … just. ‘Why, what are you doing tonight?’

‘Watching cat videos.’

25

‘Fuck me, I’m so bored.’

Jet held one eye open, staring at the laptop screen on the coffee table in front of her, cross-legged on the floor.

‘Is it possible to die of boredom?’

‘Don’t try it,’ Billy said, stretched out beside her, straight-legged, his hand splayed on the rug, pressed against her right knee.

The video kept playing, full-screen, a Zoom recording split into two halves. One side was labeledVillage Trustees, a meeting room inside Town Hall, harsh overhead lighting and a long U-shaped table. The five village trustees sat at the far end: Jet’s mom, Gerry Clay, and the others. Lou Jankowski was in his uniform, sitting on the right, and a handful of other municipal employees along the left, notebooks and pens at the ready.

On the other side of the split screen was aMs Duffy, sitting too close to the camera, ruddy cheeks and sagging skin in the unforgiving light of her computer screen.

‘Thank you for joining us for citizens’ commentsagain, Ms Duffy,’ Gerry said cheerfully. ‘Are you here to talk about something other than your neighbor’s solar lights?’

‘Yes, actually,’ Ms Duffy said, voice old and crusty, annoyed before she’d even started. ‘I want to talk about those new parking meters over on Pleasant Street. It is absolutely ridiculous. My daughter lives there and I’ve already gotten six tickets. I’m not paying them.’

‘I hear you, dude.’ Jet scrolled the cursor, fast-forwardingthe angry woman. No other faces appeared on the split screen, just Ms Duffy; then back to the Town Hall meeting, stretching to take over the full screen again.

‘Is there anyone else in the Zoom waiting room, Milly?’ Gerry asked someone off camera.

‘No, that’s all,’ replied the disembodied voice.

‘Great, let’s move on,’ he said. ‘Any additions or deletions to the posted agenda? No? OK, so let’s discuss this financial report, starting with the police revenue.’

Papers and people shuffled.

‘Next,’ Jet said.

Billy leaned forward, finger on the trackpad, exiting out of the video, back to TownOfWoodstock.org to the page calledVillage Trustee Meeting Uploads.

‘OK, so this next video takes us back to January this year,’ Billy said, double-clicking it. They’d started in March to be sure, and this was their fifth video already.

Billy pressed play.

Jet held her eye open again.

The same people, in the exact same positions, wearing different clothes, apart from Lou Jankowski in his uniform. Jet eyed her mom, in the middle, hair swinging around her bare neck.

‘We’re good?’ Gerry Clay asked, looking off camera, then back to the room. ‘OK, everyone, I’m Chair Gerry Clay, and I call to order this meeting of the Board of Trustees for the Village of Woodstock. It is 6:30 p.m., January fourteenth, and I want to wish you all a happy new year for our first meeting of 2025. Present is myself, Dianne Mason, David Dale, Florence Chu, Richie Collins.’ He reeled off the rest of the names. ‘And introducing our new chief of police, who was elected by the trustees in a secret ballot at the end of last year: Police Chief Lou Jankowski.’

Lou dipped his head as there was a polite spattering of applause, a tight smile on Jet’s mom’s face, the first to stop clapping.

‘OK, Milly,’ Gerry said. ‘Do we have anyone in the Zoom waiting room for citizens’ comments?’