So I looked at the man’s foot, in the shoe, on the beach, and I thought of sparagmos. I was remembering Orpheus, being ripped to shreds by furious Thracian women.
You know the story, probably. Orpheus could charm all creatures and even objects with his music, and because of this and his beauty, he was much desired by almost all women he encountered. Yet after his wife, Eurydice, died, he forswore all others, and this so incensed the women who surrounded him that they began to throw rocks and stones at him. But the rocks and stones loved Orpheus’s music, and they would not harm him; they turned away at the last. And so the women took him with their hands, and tore his body apart.
That’s the version I like best anyway.
I looked at the foot in the sneaker, thinking of that story, like, here was the Chuck Taylor shoe of a vacationer who was just too good at karaoke and his friends had ripped him apart. I figured it was very unlikely that whoever it came from had been torn to pieces by Thracian women. I was thinking lucidly and crazily at the same time, and the weird thing was that I knew it—it was like there was a part of me standing outside myself, observing me.
I took out my cell phone, and I dialed 911. I said, “There’s a human foot on the beach and I don’t think it belongs to Orpheus.” At least, that’s what they told me I said, later. I don’t remember doing it.
Then I guess I must have fainted—which is exactly what would happen in a movie—because the next thing I can remember I was in a squad car. They took me to the station and asked me questions and gave me very sweet coffee with lots of sugar and cream in it, and I’ll get to all that later because it’s important. But, for now, two observations:
1. Looking back, I think maybe seeing the severed foot, plus some associated memories to do with blood and bone, caused some kind of psychotic break pretty much straight away. The clue is that I was looking at a body part and all I could think about was Greek myth. Which probably partly explains all the really terrible things that happened soon after.
2. I assumed it was a man’s foot in the sneaker. Because of the style, because it was relatively large, I don’t know. That was why I was thinking about Orpheus. But perhaps if it had crossed my mind it might be a woman’s, then I would have thought about that other famous victim of sparagmos: Echo, and the way she was torn to pieces by Pan’s followers, leaving only her voice in the rocks and trees. And if I’d thought about her, then maybe I’d have gotten to voices sooner, and the idea of a murdered woman. And maybe things would have turned out differently, or at least I would have been more prepared for what happened afterward.
But then again, maybe not.
Like I said, they took me to the police station and we sat in what looked surprisingly like a normal office. They asked me a bunch of questions, what I’d been doing, whether I’d moved the foot, how long I’d been there, that kind of thing. They gave me sweet coffee, I already said that didn’t I? I was there an hour or more.
There were two guys, one in a suit and one in uniform. Agent Horowitz, who was clearly some kind of Fed, and Sergeant Kennedy or Officer Kennedy or something, I don’t know, I don’t remember. Kennedy was big and fitted badly into his blue shirt; Horowitz was skinny and young, with wire-framed glasses and a smile that actually seemed genuine. Though he was younger, he was clearly the one in charge—you would have known even if he weren’t in plain clothes.
Eventually, my dad turned up.
He came into the room and said, “Do you really need to keep my daughter here?”
“We’re not detaining her,” said Kennedy. “We’re just asking some questions.”
Horowitz nodded. “But I think we’re done here. You can take Cassandra home. She’s had a shock—I’d prescribe sugar if I were a doctor. Ben & Jerry’s, M&M’S. You know, chocolate.”
“She has a peanut allergy,” said Dad. “A severe one. Most chocolate could kill her.”
Kennedy slapped the side of his head. “Oh yeah. The guys from the squad car saw the bracelet when they were reviving her. Almost dosed her with epinephrine before they realized she’d just fainted. Candy, then.”
“My daughter found a human foot on the beach and you’re suggesting candy?” said Dad.
Horowitz shrugged and gave that slight smile. I noticed his cheeks dimpled and fine lines appeared around his eyes; it made me like him even more. “It works,” he said. He turned to me. “Also, we can offer counseling. Put you in touch with someone. Something to think about.”