He sat at the desk for a little while and said some stuff. That’s when I started to think he must be crazy, because none of it made sense.”
I didn’t know he was crazy, not then, how could I? He was quiet, but he didn’t give any signs that he was crazy. I started to get that idea later, but at first I was just convinced I’d done something bad in a blackout. That I’d been out driving, maybe, and hurt someone. I . . . I did something like that once before.”
“When did he come for you?” Mary asked.
Billingsley had to think about it in order to be sure. “Day before yesterday. Just before sundown. I was in bed, my head hurting, thinking about getting something for my hangover. An aspirin, and a little hair of the dog that bit me. He came and got me right out of bed. I didn’t have anything on but my underwear shorts. He let me dress. Helped me. But he wouldn’t let me take a drink even though I was shaking all over, and he wouldn’t tell me why he was taking me in.” He paused, still rubbing the flesh beneath his eyes. Mary wished he would stop doing that, it was making her nervous. “Later on, after he had me in a cell, he brought me a hot dinner. He sat at the desk for a little while and said some stuff. That’s when I started to think he must be crazy, because none of it made sense.”
“ ‘I see holes like eyes,’ ” Mary said.
Billingsley nodded. “Yeah, like that. ‘My head is full of blackbirds,’ that’s another one I remember. And a lot more I don’t. They were like Thoughts for the Day out of a book written by a crazy person.”
