1
Shoot the moon right between the eyes
I’m screaming
Take me back to sunny countryside
—JOHN PRINE,CLOCKS AND SPOONS
JON FREDERICK
9:00 A.M., THURSDAY, APRIL 9, 2020
BIRCHMONDT DRIVE NORTHEAST,
WEST SIDE OF LAKE BEMIDJI, BEMIDJI
At twenty years old, Harper Rowe reminded me of an abandoned fawn. The willowy, baby blue-eyed woman had long blonde hair, brush-stroked away in waves, reminiscent of impressionist art, like Renoir’sGirls at the Piano. With her long legs crossed, she sat in front of me in a cushioned wicker lounge chair, in her grandparents’ four season porch.
In a soft-spoken tone, Harper wove the tapestry of her sad tale. “My mom, Kali Rowe, was a buyer for Macy’s and was in New York for work. And now she’s dead.”
“I’m assuming not from natural causes.”
“Most unnatural.” Her eyes welled with unshed tears. She shared, “My mom had the dubious distinction of being one of the first coronavirus deaths in New York.”