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12.

12.

Ambiguities. Shadowy, surreal ghosts seen out of the corner of the eye, like hallucinations dreamed during a fever, things that can neither be confirmed nor denied. These are the things I’ve been reading about.

Though Webb Community College is ten miles out of town, between Clifton Heights and Old Forge, Bradley Sanders lives here in town. I’ve seen him around a few times, been introduced to him twice. And he does have an impressive train layout in his basement. Every Christmas he opens his home to the neighborhood for tours. I had night patrol this Christmas and missed it but luckily Meg convinced Grace—our sitter—to take her. She gushed for days about its meticulous detail in copying nearly every facet of Clifton Heights. I’d hated missing that and had vowed to make sure I was free next year to go see Bradley’s layout with Meg.

Not so sure I’ll be doing that, now.

A resigned weariness settles over my shoulders. “I suppose if I called Web Community College, asking after Ned Si
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