Across and Down
by Deborah J. Beyer

Edna set down her pencil. "That's a fine one, Ted," she said, folding her newspaper with veined hands and setting it on the table between them at Cafˇ Louie.
"Did you note reference to the school millage, Clue 7 Across?" her husband asked.
"Yes, indeed," Edna said, "and 28 Down regarding the mayor's junket to Cancun. That's a sly one."
Ted settled back with a satisfied smile, their weekly ritual at the coffee shop in Grand Haven completed. He was assured that his puzzle in the local paper had hit the mark. Edna was his test. If she caught subtle political clues, he knew others would also. He opened his book, her usefulness to him over for another week.
Edna relaxed, too, taking another sip of her espresso. Poor Ted, she thought. A brilliant newspaperman reduced to minor tasks at career's end. She'd had higher hopes for him. Always supportive, Edna had backed Ted as he rose from reporter to assistant editor. But in the 1980's, his career had begun a nosedive, caused by Ted's resistance to computers. Even now

lodged in a rock-bottom job as crossword author, Ted designed puzzles by hand. Even Edna knew software would simplify his task and had gently suggested it.
"Never!" Ted had retorted. "It's exercise for my little grey cells, as Poirot would say." His eyes glazed. Edna knew Hercule's name would appear in the next crossword.
"What theme is next?" Edna asked. Ted looked up, annoyed at the interruption. Edna shrank. She tried to be sociable, but she and Ted had little in common now - except his crosswords, of course.
"Christmas is coming. That's a natural, although Harry at the hardware expects me to plug his pre-holiday sale. I hate commercialism. Maybe the playhouse's 'A Christmas Carol.' I could use character names, props."
"Perhaps," Edna said, "assuming your puzzlers can recall the play's details. Perhaps symbols from year-end holidays from many cultures. Not everyone celebrates Christmas."
"Piffle," Ted said, glowering. "People who don't like Christmas don't have to buy the paper."
Edna sighed. Stubborn and small-minded, that was Ted.
Look where it had gotten him. Instead of editorship of a major
daily, Ted was laboring at the outskirts of journalism. And Edna knew local editors Bill and Margaret Masterson, a husband 3

and wife team, would abhor Ted's "if you don't like it, don't buy our paper" attitude.
Edna knew Ted was increasingly unhappy at work, returning home disgruntled, complaining about stress and the poor grammar of new reporters. Dissatisfaction even crept into his puzzles. Edna knew it was unconscious on Ted's part, but she noted clues referring to revenge, vendettas, and punishment. The word "assassination" had appeared in last week's puzzle. Edna cast a worried look at Ted.
The next puzzle was also ominous. Although on a Christmas theme, the puzzle was peppered with terms that nearly ruined Edna's Columbian Supremo at Cafˇ Louie on the morning the paper appeared. Clue 6 Across, unforgiving; 13 Down (two words), pay back; 104 Down, peeved. When Edna suggested Ted discuss his problems with a professional, he exploded.
"Stop, you disparaging harpy," he shouted. "Nothing's wrong with me. You're like the rest, churlish and demanding."
Edna was shocked - although she noted Ted's vocabulary wasn't suffering. Although Ted had never been violent, Edna feared new behavior might surface. And that's exactly what occurred. Ted expressed his frustration in increasingly overt ways. He slammed doors and threw dishes. Edna worried his anger might turn toward her. Her delicate bones would snap like twigs.
4

Edna worked the weekly crosswords with increasing anxiety, searching for clues that she might become target of Ted's anger. They were everywhere. "Harridan," "retribution," "comeuppance." Even the archaic "put the kibosh on" appeared in January. Edna grew wary.
In February, Edna slowly penciled the term "uxoricide" into Ted's crossword. The clue: "killing of wife by her husband." She shuddered, eyed Ted across the cafˇ table, and slipped a table knife into her purse. That night, while seeking further protection, Edna discovered the handgun Ted kept in his nightstand was missing. Edna slept little. She kept medications with her, fearing Ted might tamper with them. Ted, Edna knew, was wily.
One day, Ted arrived home late, his face ashen, his forehead sweaty. Edna became alert. Reaching into the pocket of his coat, Ted drew the pistol.
But Edna was faster. Forgetting her knife, she lunged, knocking Ted's gun to the floor. Ted grabbed her arms painfully as she fell.
"Edna, what on earth?" Ted asked. "That gun might have discharged!"
"Exactly your plan."

5

"Whatever gave you that idea? Besides, there's been enough
bloodshed today." Edna frowned, and Ted continued. "I'm late due to a murder at the office."
"Ted, you didn't!"
"Certainly not. Have you lost your senses? Bill Masterson strangled Margaret - right at the copy desk. She insisted that a dangling participle run in this week's paper. 'Contemporary language,' she called it."
Edna gasped.
"Everyone saw it coming," Ted said. "Margaret's been evil lately: argumentative, cruel. Bill's been at the breaking point. I tried to warn Margaret her comeuppance was coming. Didn't you notice clues in my crosswords?"
"Of course, but I thought they were directed at . . . someone else."
"Margaret ignored my hints completely," Ted said.
"But the gun!"
Ted shrugged. "I'd hoped to forestall violence by brandishing my gun if necessary. Unfortunately, I was away when Bill cracked. Those whippersnapper reporters just watched. And not one could write a decent eyewitness report!"
"What will happen to Bill?" Edna asked.

6

"He's in custody, but I consider it justifiable homicide. How could anyone live - and work - with a shrew like Margaret? She's completely unlike you, Edna. Thank heaven."
"Will the paper close?" Edna asked.
"No," Ted said. "We'll publish during Bill's absence. The town needs its newspaper. I edited copy all afternoon, ran a tight ship. Dangling participles, indeed. Never in Bill Masterson's newspaper -- never in mine!"