Wad

wad
verb, transitive. To compress a soft material into a lump or bundle. To stop up an aperture or a gun barrel with a bundle or lump of soft material.

"What did you find out?"

Seth didn't respond to Kyle's question for a moment. He wadded the note he had taken from Marcy's desk blotter into a smaller ball in his pocket as he considered.

"She wasn't there." He met Kyle's gaze, careful to keep his own face neutral. Kyle wasn't going to like it later when he learned what Marcy had revealed in the note, but Seth felt that he owed it to her to keep it a secret, for now. He had enough to do this morning without dealing with one of Kyle's tantrums.

Kyle sighed and turned his attention to his monitor. "I guess we'll know when she sees fit to enlighten us," he said, his displeasure evident in his tone. His posture dismissed Seth more than words could have done, as he raised his hands to the keyboard and mouse.

Relieved, Seth made his way to his own desk, wondering when Marcy would return and whether or not she would call the staff together and make an announcement. He had a feeling that the note may have been meant for his eyes alone. On reflection, that idea seemed farfetched. Marcy hadn't concealed it. She had left it in plain sight, where anyone could see it.

He sat and pressed a cursor key to awaken his computer from its slumber. Maybe she had emailed him. He realized that he didn't really know much more than Kyle did at this point. The note had raised more questions in his mind than it had answered.

Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.

Vacate

vacate
verb, transitive. To leave a place that one previously occupied. (Legal): To cancel or annul a judgment, contract or charge.

After the weather warmed in the spring, Ron wheeled the motorcycle out of the front room.

"Come on!" he cried to Marcy as she closed the storm door behind him. "Let's go for a spin and see if my fix worked."

"Not too far," she cautioned as she straddled the seat and encircled him with her arms. "The front door is unlocked, and neither one of us is wearing a helmet."

She could feel his sigh through his light jacket. "You need to learn to be more spontaneous, Marce," was all he said. He jumped on the starter and the cycle's engine roared into life for the first time in months. "Sounds good!" Marcy thought.

After the brief and uneventful ride, Ron parked the motorcycle beside the car in the driveway and the two of them headed toward the house. Marcy glanced at the now nearly-empty living room as she entered and cringed at the black greasy dirt on the carpet, ringing the plastic mat that was supposed to have protected it as Ron worked on the cycle's innards all winter.

"Guess we're going to be asked to vacate this place soon," she griped through gritted teeth. Oh! How she hated having to move.

"Only if Clark comes here and sees this," Ron responded, referring to their landlord.

"In other words, it's only wrong if you get caught?" Marcy turned at the doorway into the kitchen and faced him, feeling her resentment grow. "That sounds like something Al Gore would say."

Ron grinned. "You mean, old 'No controlling legal entity' Al Gore?" he clarified.

Marcy spoke before she thought: "I suppose you think that makes it all right." She knew from the way Ron's face changed that she had said the wrong thing. "Great. Another fight. Way to go, Marcy," she thought, and steeled herself for his next words.

Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.

Ululate

ululate
verb, intransitive. Howl or wail as an expression of strong emotion, typically grief. From the Latin ululat-, meaning howled or shrieked.

The sounds awakened Dan for the third night in a row before he pulled on some clothes and went to investigate.

They were more faint in the hallway; louder in the stairwell. He descended two stories before he realized that the volume was fading. He turned and went up, then: two, three, then four and five floors. On the last landing, he looked up at a rectangle of night sky framed by the open door to the roof.

Cautiously, he tiptoed up the last flight of stairs. It was silent now, except for the whisper of traffic far below. Who was up here on the roof at this hour, Dan wondered? Was he about to see something he would rather not see, or interrupt something better left alone?

He paused in the doorway and peered out. A young woman stood a few yards away, her back to him. She wore ordinary, at-home clothes: jeans and a sweatshirt against the chill air. Her blond hair stood out in the gloom, piled any old way on her head, secured by a plastic clip. He recognized her by that mane--silvery in the dim light: she lived on the fourth floor, in one of the corner apartments. He vaguely recalled hearing the building super say that she sang in the chorus of an opera company.

She ululated a few notes, paused, then launched into a full-blown aria, a capella, her voice carrying into the night across the dark roofs. She was practicing. Maybe she had a chance at a bigger role than one of the voices in the chorus, and planned to make the most of it. Dan was not an opera fan, but the timbre of her voice snagged and held his attention as few voices he had ever heard. She wasn't a soprano--not a first soprano, anyway. Her voice was lower than that, richer. He didn't want her to stop singing. It didn't matter that he couldn't understand the language of the piece. He assumed it was Italian. As he felt whenever he heard Stevie Nicks sing, all that mattered was her voice

Careful not to make a sound, he sank to the floor of the top landing so he could listen until she finished.

Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.

Tot

tot
verb. Usually "tot up." To add up numbers or amounts. To accumulate something over a period of time. Also a noun.

"What are you doing?" David asked, leaning over her shoulder and peering at the monitor.

"Totting up our nest egg," she replied.

He was silent, eyes still on the screen. She added a number to the list she had made on a notepad, then logged off of the online brokerage website and navigated to another. David made no comment as she consulted her password vault and logged in on the new site. After a minute or so, she added another number to her list, then logged out. Turning her attention to the numbers she had written, she began to add.

When she reached for the calculator to verify her work, he spoke again. "If you die, what am I going to do about all this? I don't know how to use the computer and I don't want to learn, but everything we own is tied up with it somehow!"

Without looking up, she answered him. "Ask our son for help. Or my brother. Or your sister. Anyway, I'm not planning to die anytime soon. It could be years before you have to deal with this stuff, if ever."

He didn't feel reassured by that.

Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.

Sacrifice

sacrifice
verb, transitive. To offer or kill as a religious sacrifice. To give up something important or valued for the sake of other considerations. Also a noun.

He pulled the edges of his coat collar tighter against the wind and addressed her, "Please listen to me, Flora. I love you. You mustn't leave. We can still have a future."

She stood, partially turned away, a few locks of her dark hair streaming on the wind that buffeted them both. He wished more than anything that he could have confronted her in daylight, so he could fill his senses with the sight of her face: her flawless brow, the faint blush of her cheeks, those full lips, and most of all, her sparkling grey eyes. This meeting was his only chance, and he had better make the most of it.

A gust dragged leaf husks past them on the pavement. Bare branches tossed above, shading the moon's glow when clouds didn't obscure it. The wind was getting stronger and colder. He would have to hurry if he wanted to change her mind.

"Please, speak to me, love. Can't we talk about this?"

"You have already sacrificed your career for me. Your family hates me. I won't join a family who will only blame me for ruining you."

He felt stunned. When had his mother and brother spoken to Flora? Why had they decided to interfere? He reached for her, but her arm inside the woolen cloak slipped out of his grasp.

"No!" she cried. "It's too late."

She turned and looked him full in the face then, and for an instant the moon shone brightly enough for him to see those dear, dear eyes. Their bright, loving glow was gone now. They looked dull--almost aged.

Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.

Ream

ream
verb, transitive. To widen a bore or hole with a special tool. To clear out or remove material from something. Informally, to rebuke or criticize someone fiercely. Also a noun.

"Who do you think did this?" Patrick queried as he bent to look at the latch-hole in the door jamb.

"I have no way of telling," Mike replied, "but I'm thinking about getting one of those little surveillance cameras and setting it up so that, if it happens again, I'll have evidence."

"I know it's troubling, knowing that someone was in here while you were at work, watching your TV, going through your stuff...."

Mike agreed without saying so. He watched as his landlord, who he considered his friend, patiently reamed splintered wood out of the latch-hole with a chisel and his finger, then studied the hole. Patrick shook his head.

"Too much material is gone. We'll have to drill a new hole, and put the new lock in a different place."

Patrick left to get more tools. Mike stayed in the hallway, swinging the door to and fro and noting how flimsy it felt. When the garage had been converted into an apartment, Patrick hadn't anticipated that anyone would ever gain entrance to the hallway via the door to the outside, then kick in the apartment's door so easily. He wondered if a new deadbolt would do any good. Maybe the door itself should be replaced with a solid-core one. He decided to propose that when Patrick returned. For four-hundred dollars a month, he wanted to feel secure in his own home. Surely his landlord would agree.

Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.

Quell

quell
verb, transitive. To put an end to, typically by the use of force. To subdue or silence someone. To suppress a feeling, especially an unpleasant one.

It was dark by the time they realized that neither of them had remembered to fetch the mail from the box by the road. She volunteered to get it. He had spent the day trying to fix the lawnmower and she knew he was tired. She took the flashlight from the counter beside the kitchen door and went outside.

The world changed in an instant as soon as she turned her back to the house. She could see nothing but the ellipse of the flashlight's beam, bobbing before her steps in rhythm with them. Too late, she reflected that flip-flops might not have been a good choice for this walk. What if she had to run?

The thought gave her a shiver. Mountain lions had been sighted in the neighborhood, not that long ago. She was almost certain one had holed up in a thicket near one turn in the trail to the back of their property. Every time she walked past it near sunset, she smelled a strong odor, kind of like domestic cat urine, but not quite. It hadn't stopped her from using the trail to go out before dinner and watch the setting sun for a few minutes, every few days. She hadn't encountered that smell in a long time. She wondered if the big cats ever came around now.

She pulled the few pieces of mail out of the box and closed its door. In the wavering light, she could tell that there was only one item that wasn't junk. She closed her hand on the bundle and prepared to return to the house.

But first, a moment to experience the night and nothing but the night. She switched off the light and stood. Looking around, she still could see almost nothing, but she could hear. A cricket scritched to her left. One of the last katydids scritched in a different key off to her right. Behind, one of the neighbors' horses snorted and stamped a foot. The welcome coolness of an after-sunset breeze lifted the hair from her neck. The idea that, big cats or no, she was home, quelled any uneasiness she might have been feeling.

Finally, she tilted her head back to examine what little natural light was shining down at that moment: the stars. A lighter portion of sky surprised her. It was the Milky Way, back in view now that summer was ending. She traced its path across the heavens with her eyes, then switched the flashlight on again and began to make her way up the drive toward the house, its open door spilling warm, golden light across the porch to welcome her back.

Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.