2020 Tapestries: Saint Francis University's literary and visual arts magazine

A Shadow of Doubt by Scott Riner The early morning air, chilly with February frost, sent a shiver down Dawlings’ spine. The sun, which was beginning to creep up over the cloudy horizon, would not be enough to warm him up. He wished more than anything that he had been allowed to wear a coat—or even just a hat. Anything would be better than what he wore now: a bright colored jumpsuit, made out of the thinnest material known to man. The jumpsuit did little to keep him warm, although it did set him off from the rest of the crowd as one of the event’s guests of honor.

“Hurry up,” Randolph grunted, prodding Dawlings in the back with a heavy baton.

“We haven’t all day, you know.”

Dawlings said nothing—what was there to say, after all?—and began to walk forward once more.

“It’s a bit nippy out,” commented Lazenbee, a dark-skinned man dressed in the same bright jumpsuit. “Wish I had a pair of gloves.”

Dawlings nodded in agreement, yet remained silent. The two of them walked side by side, with Randolph behind to escort them to the front of the crowd. Perhaps if Randolph was not behind them, Dawlings would have talked freely to Lazenbee, although it was doubtful; Dawlings had little to say on that cold morning, and nothing at all to say to Lazenbee. People like Lazenbee…weren’t Dawlings’ cup of tea.

“It’s too fuckin’ cold,” continued Lazenbee to no one in particular. “You know it’s a cold day when you can see your breath.”

“Can it,” Randolph instructed, thumping Lazenbee’s shoulder with the baton.

Lazenbee cried out in pain. “What was that for?” he asked, rubbing his shoulder where Randolph’s baton had connected with it.

“For being rowdy,” Randolph said.

“I ain’t rowdy, you dumb fuck,” Lazenbee said indignantly. “I’m just saying that I don’t think it’s fair that you’re dressed from head to ass in warm clothes and me and Dawlings don’t get to wear nothing but our jumpsuits.”

“It’s policy,” was all Randolph said.

Lazenbee snorted. “Policy? Yeah, well, I guess that makes sense. It’s policy that we have to freeze our asses off while you get to be all bundled up, nice and toasty like.”

“I’m sure you two will be nice and warm by the end of the morning,” Randolph chuckled.

Lazenbee didn’t say anything, which surprised Dawlings. He had a mouth that kept on running, no matter what, that Lazenbee. Maybe, Dawlings thought, Lazenbee had accepted that their situation was no laughing matter.

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