tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78550760379240785032024-02-06T22:37:37.204-06:00The Mighty Blowholemovies. bands + music. comics. books. games. funny stuff. stupid stuff. pithy +/or pissy observations.Igorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857186835391466064noreply@blogger.comBlogger356125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-72824320930534816532022-11-22T09:14:00.001-06:002022-11-22T09:14:20.338-06:00Cousin Claude<p> Yet another horror short story, kids. It's not Halloween anymore, but the world's still fookinspooky iddnit? It is if I've got anything to do with it! So, here ya go. Hope it delivers dread. If it doesn't, tell me why it didn't. Feedback's always helpful. In fact, it's all I really get out of this, so, pay up.<br /></p><p>There's still a few more to come, potentially, sometime. Got a couple of things already written but not typed up. And I write more all the time. And until I decide I care about trying to submit things for cash (which so far I don't, oddly enough... I like money, but not as much as I dislike hassles), it's free.<br /></p><p>And, as always, we maintain the Table of Contents so you can easily access all the other stuff here, at least some of which is just bound to be good, so, explore! And tell us why they work, or why they don't. <br /></p><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
KickerOfElves:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2018/10/just-leave.html" target="_blank">Just Leave </a><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2018/03/the-genius-of-sea.html" target="_blank">The Genius of the Sea</a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/rigor-mortis.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Rigor Mortis</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/men-with-knives.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Men With Knives</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Profbolt:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/08/east-of-rulesville-guest-short-story.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">East of Rulesville</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My stuff:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2022/10/charlie-keeps-using-up-his-red-crayons.html" target="_blank">Charlie Keeps Using Up His Red Crayons</a> <br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2022/10/storytime-again-folks.html">The 312 Wisteria Park Tapes </a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2022/10/rain-rain-go-away.html">Rain Rain Go Away </a><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/10/all-angels-are-sleeping-now.html" target="_blank">All The Angels Are Sleeping Now</a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/09/the-nonsense.html" target="_blank">The Nonsense </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/03/out-by-turbines_13.html" target="_blank">Out By The Turbines </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/10/we-will-meet-on-that-beautiful-shore.html" target="_blank">We Will Meet On That Beautiful Shore </a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-guy-in-hallway-show.html" target="_blank">The Guy-In-The-Hallway Show </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/the-screaming-head-of-sister-mary-agnes.html" target="_blank">The Screaming Head of Sister Mary Agnes </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/10/pray-for-agatha-burning-in-hell.html" target="_blank">Pray For Agatha, Burning In Hell </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-night-is-filled-with-maniacs.html">The Night Is Filled With Maniacs </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/03/gone-shootin.html" target="_blank">Gone Shootin' </a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2022/05/walk-all-over-you.html">Walk All Over You </a><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/some-kinda-hate.html" target="_blank">Some Kinda Hate </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/creak.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Creak</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/shrouded-in-rain.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shrouded In Rain </span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2013/11/bodies-not-recovered.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Bodies Not Recovered</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/10/scribblebones.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scribblebones</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/long-tall-sally.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Long Tall Sally</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/shik-chuff.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shik-Chuff</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/11/damp-basements-of-heaven.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">The Damp Basements of Heaven</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2010/10/up-stairs-where-windows-are-painted.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Up The Stairs Where The Windows Are Painted Black</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/665-1.html" target="_blank">665+1 </a></span></div>
And <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/10/pleasant-dreams.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">little descriptions of actual nightmares I’ve had</span></a><p></p><p><br /><br /></p><p></p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><p><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span></span><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">COUSIN CLAUDE</span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack
had quit smoking eight years ago, a long struggle that’d felt like climbing an
icy mountain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After eight years he’d
been pretty confident that he was all done with backsliding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Wrong again, Jack. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Five
minutes ago he’d lit one of his dead aunt’s Salems, musing that this butt was
from the very pack that had finally killed her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He looked at the fuming cigarette, thinking he’d never had a Salem. <i>Burn
little witches, curse us from the pyre</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He was a little mad at himself, hardly able to believe he was really
holding one again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d had a hard time
lighting it, partially because of reluctance to commit to wrecking almost a
decade’s clean record, but mostly because his fingers were shaking so badly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The cigarette and the shakes were there
because he was now faced with an even bigger, steeper, icier mountain than the
bastard he’d just skied back down.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
had to open a door.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Christ,
how was he going to do it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d been in
her house an hour already and he hadn’t even worked up the nerve to look at the
damn door yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d just been moping,
listening, building even more fear when he already had plenty.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
was just down the hall, there, right through the living room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He hadn’t been here in decades but he knew
exactly where it was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d dreamed about
it enough times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was a small
house, the door wouldn’t be more than a dozen steps away, but damn if he felt
able to take them.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He’d
have to walk down that hall soon, though, to get to the bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The need to piss had been getting worse since
he’d pulled up outside, but he’d been holding it in, afraid to get that close
to the door he was going to <i>have</i> to open anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s what he’d driven three hours to do,
after all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But now that he was here it
seemed okay to take a few more hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As
long as there was still plenty of time before dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yeah, he was not gonna be here after dark,
for sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He would NOT be in the dark
with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Him.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Just
get it over with</i>, he told himself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>You’re
making it worse, smoker.</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If
nothing else, he should at least be brave enough to visit the bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Getting a urinary tract infection wasn’t
going to help anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or, hey, be a
coward and step outside and water the honeysuckle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There sure was enough of it to give him all
the privacy he needed, even if there’d been any neighbors around, which there
weren’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were few houses around
here and they all looked empty, lawns unmowed, that lonely kicked-around-dog
look unloved houses get.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d passed one
house he remembered a hundred yards up the road but it was just a chimney in
the woods now, the rest burned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
were vague memories of the old guy who’d lived there, a bald skinny horsey-toothed
jovial fella on a lawnmower and wearing a lady’s gardening hat who’d given him
little bags of Red Hots when he was a kid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Probably had them around for making stewed cinnamon apples, a lot of
people did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He'd been a nice old guy and
Jack hoped he hadn’t died in the fire, although by now he was bound to be dead
of something.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Too
bad that fire didn’t happen here</i>; a thought that came with an instant pang
of guilt for thinking it, but hung.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If
Aunt Dorothy were going to die from cigarettes, it might have been better if it
came from smoking in bed and just taken the whole house down, spared him this
nightmare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As long as she didn’t
suffer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe have her heart attack,
drop the cigarette…</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
it hadn’t happened that way so there was no point in fantasizing about it, it
was just more avoidance of duty.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
place would have gone up like a bonfire, though, if it had only been given the
chance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack had been shocked by the
decrepit state of it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In his
memories from childhood this had been such a neat little house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His mother was a terrible housekeeper and it
must have been because when they were kids Dorothy never gave her a chance to
practice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whenever he visited this place
as a kid it was like stepping into a magazine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><i>Good Housekeeping,</i> not <i>Architectural Digest</i>;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>they never had anything fancy, all cheap
furniture from the glory days of plastic, but it was all kept
immaculately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom would sneer that it
was because Dorothy went crazy cleaning up for their visits and most of the
year her house probably looked like theirs, but that was Mom’s sour old
jealousy again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom had always been
jealous of her sister, up until Claude was born and nobody’d ever be jealous of
her again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Claude’s birthday, and Poor
Dorothy’s.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That
must’ve been the last time the house was maintained.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The paint looked scoured off the boards
outside but what was left was still that dark blue he remembered from
childhood, something you might paint a crab shack but not a house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If she’d ever gotten it repainted, surely
she’d have picked something else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He’d
stepped on pieces of rotten trim that had fallen off, and a sill from a window,
more sponge now than board.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Honeysuckle,
sugaring the air, making each breath deceptively sweet, had devoured the back
of the house like a crashing wave in a very slow ocean that would eventually
drown everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the ceiling in
the living room was freckled with brown water stains from a roof starting to
leak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The busy kerchief-on-her-head,
dustrag-in-her-hand, always-teasingly-shoving-him-aside-to-vacuum Aunt Dot he’d
known would never stand for that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not
unless bearing it had become easier than having people come around to make
repairs.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Because
you had a seeeeee-cret.</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That
was what the deal was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She hadn’t wanted
people coming around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was because of
that thing in that room that was making him shake so badly he couldn’t build up
a decent ash on the cigarette.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The floor
around him was littered with them like snow; old-school Aunt Dot would’ve had a
fit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
Salem was done anyway, so he stubbed it in the ashtray.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The need to piss was turning into actual pain
so he said the hell with it and headed toward the bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
pointedly didn’t look toward that door, just angled through the gloom, stepped
into the bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knew right where
it was, as it was the site of a landmark bad childhood memory – puking
violently after getting too greedy for spiced peaches one Thanksgiving – and a
landmark happy one – it was where he’d read his first <i>Jonah Hex</i> comic
book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He flipped on the light, lifted
the lid, unzipped, wrangled out, and started.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Standing there draining he had plenty of time to assess the
bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Aunt Dot had made some effort
to keep it clean, he saw, although it was pretty spare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some amber pill bottles, probably for the
lung cancer that was supposed to kill her until a heart attack got her
first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God laughs a lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Especially at Poor Dorothy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was nothing in the way of cosmetics,
and that was a lack he’d never seen in a woman’s bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Aunt Dot had just given up, he supposed,
quit caring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Nobody was around to
see her except Claude, and Claude was certainly in no position to fault anyone
for their looks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Prettier things than
Claude had been hauled out of fatal car wrecks.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack’s
mind couldn’t even put together a full picture of what Claude might look like
now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were hazy childhood memories,
clinical images, as if from a yellowing case file, and his mind had blocked out
some, probably, and likely built up others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One eye bigger and lower than the other, a tusk, a head that looked
melted to one side, those fingers that seemed as long as Jack’s arms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he was born, nobody had expected Claude
to live more than a few days, much less end up as strong as he had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Few babies born that biologically compromised
survived more than a few hours, if they made it out alive at all, and that was
a kindness nature did them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But Claude…
Claude was nature being uncharacteristically mean-spirited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It must have really hated him to malform him
as it had, and then, worse, have him live to bear it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You didn’t look at Claude and keep believing
in a God, at least not a benevolent one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Whatever formed Claude had been a mad, laughing mean-streaked
sonofabitch.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
as twisted as his body was, lord, his mind was so much worse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His body was something that stepped out of a
funhouse mirror, but his mind was another funhouse mirror image of that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gnarled, folded, warped, insane, cruel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From somewhere else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Infernal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He wasn’t just an unfortunate victim of birth defects, blameless and to
be loved like any other child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, there
was something far wrong with Claude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Raising
him with kindness, as he knew Aunt Dot had, had no effect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Claude had been little more than a toddler
the last time Jack had been here but even then he’d been all snickering
meanness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During the days when they
still pretended Claude might end up as a person, they’d let him play with
Jack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d been chewing up Jack’s
plastic army men and when Jack tried to rescue them Claude had pinched Jack
really hard with those fingers, long and thin as twigs but strong as
pliers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d really locked them on and
then imitated Jack’s squeals of pain and laughed so loud that Uncle Jerry –
who’d gotten bitten for it, hard enough to bleed – came and pulled Claude off
and locked him in his room, where Claude had scratched and screamed, becoming
frantic with the desire to continue his tormenting.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Uncle
Jerry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was another story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He remembered Uncle Jerry as a very happy guy
back before Claude was born.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Uncle Jerry
and Aunt Dot had toured Europe, Asia, even Africa before Claude came along, so
the life of stifling isolation afterward was quite a contrast, a death of
something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Any child brings that, of course,
but not to such a coffin-lid-slammed-shut degree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whenever Jack came to stay with them, Uncle
Jerry was always taking him for ice cream, buying him comics (including that <i>Jonah
Hex)</i>, chasing him around the yard and playing ball with him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d taken him to a little carnival
once.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack had vague memories of
thinking it was a pretty shitty one even at his young age, chipped chunks of
plaster on red and blue merry-go-round horses that looked like they’d been
gnawed on by something big, which dragged along at the speed of a dying,
unmaintained motor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An anaconda in a
glass box that wouldn’t move.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe it
was dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A quarter’s worth of disappointment,
but Uncle Jerry being a sport, making it fun, anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’d watched movies on the television, and Uncle
Jerry stayed up late with him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’d
watched <i>Sands of Iwo Jima</i> and <i>Fistful of Dollars</i> and <i>Born
Losers </i>on the late show, even <i>Curse of Frankenstein</i>, which had been
a bit much for Jack at five years old, but Uncle Jerry had made fun of it and
wouldn’t let him be scared.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yeah,
Uncle Jerry, back when he was a great guy who thought he’d wanted kids.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then
he’d gotten one, and became Poor Jerry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A whole new family with the same black birthday.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He’d
toughed it out, stand-up-guy’d it for another six years, then abandoned Dot and
Claude and went somewhere and drank himself to death in a couple of years trying
to drown the guilt over having done it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It made him hate himself but even that was easier than to live with
Claude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For a while, anyway.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack
finished and zipped up and washed his hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How had Aunt Dot borne it, that was the real mystery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was understandable that Jerry
couldn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was not only the terror
of having Claude in the house, but Jack couldn’t imagine the weirdness of
knowing your DNA could possibly produce such a thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Into each life a little rain must fall, but
Jesus, Jerry and Dorothy needed to build an ark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And there wasn’t enough wood in the world.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack
dried his hands and stood there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Usually, finishing pissing was a relief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not this time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now he didn’t want
to step out of the bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Claude’s
door was about eight feet away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d
have to look at it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Look
at it, hell, eventually he’d have to open it, and step in there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could hear birds tweeting outside, insects
buzzing, but it was still going to get dark in a few hours and he wasn’t going
to be here then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the dark, in a house with Claude?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No
sir, no.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Carefully,
like something might be standing on the other side of the door listening, Jack
carefully reached out, laid his hand on the bathroom doorknob, tightened, and
slowly turned it, pulling the door in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He peeked out.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There
was Claude’s door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It still had stickers
on it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He remembered Claude had had some
strange fetish for taking the stickers off bananas and collecting them on his
door, and neat-freak Aunt Dot had decided it wasn’t worth risking a fight and
lord knew Claude wasn’t going to wring much happiness out of this life, so
there it was, a massive mosaic of the most banana stickers in the whole world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Blue vastly outnumbered red; Chiquita was
whupping Dole’s ass in the banana wars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bananas were very popular in this house, maybe because Claude’s skull
wasn’t a great design for chewing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then
again, he’d done a bang-up job on those army men, so, who knows?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe he just liked them.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Higher
on the door was a hasp and a padlock, so they could keep Claude in his room.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
hasp hung free, the open padlock dangling from it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
hasp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hung FREE.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Open padlock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>OPEN.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Claude’s
room, apparently, had been left open.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
could come and go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>With
ice invading his blood, Jack quickly, quietly went back up the hall, through
the living room, back into the kitchen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He shook out another cigarette and lit it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Jesus,
was Claude even </i>in <i>there?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had
Aunt Dot started letting him run loose?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How could she trust him?</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>After
all the things Dot had written to Jack’s mom about, about how Claude only got
worse as he matured, she gave him free range?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack
rubbed his arm where Claude had pinched him all those years ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’d left a hematoma like a ping pong ball,
gone now, of course, but he’d never forgotten it, or the maniacal joy in
Claude’s piss-colored eyes, one up here, one down there, as Jack had
screamed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just because you couldn’t see
or feel it didn’t mean there wasn’t a scar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was nothing more horrifying than Claude, <i>nothing</i>, and Aunt
Dot left the fucking lock open?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Puffing
the cigarette, Jack searched the cabinets for booze.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d had a cigarette problem, also an even
worse drinking problem (only four years free of that one, it being a
bigger-icier-steeper mountain), but now seemed a good time to restart that habit,
too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Strap on the skis, motherfucker,
and whoosh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jesus Christ, public
nightmare number one having run of the place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Aunt Dot had been insane.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>No
booze, but the cabinets were full of pasta.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She sure hadn’t wanted to run out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bananas and pasta and your dear aunt’s soul, that’s what horror eats, I
guess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The whole place was a museum of
loneliness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Aunt Dot had Claude but
Claude’s company would only make her <i>more</i> lonely, driving away every
other kind. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was like some leech in
the back room, feeding, taking everything.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Aunt
Dot had died when Claude was born, really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’d just taken over thirty years to settle in.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
drawers didn’t even have ketchup packets, like every other house in America
had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hard to go out for fast food and
leave Claude alone that long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lock
someone else in, you’re locked in, too, minding them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He imagined fast trips to the grocery store,
maybe dared once a month or so, a brief respite turned to torment by having to
go back home again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Face that malevolence
by yourself for thirty years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jesus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If she’d been crazy, she
came by it as honestly as anyone ever had.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In
one drawer he found letters from his mother, birthday cards with his own
childish signature on them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Love you
Aunt Dot!</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Birthday candles nobody’d
ever use.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her wedding ring, tossed in a
kitchen drawer in a knot of old bread twist ties that the ring was being used
to bind together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wow, I guess that’s
what happens to sentiment when a man leaves you with an abomination-baby then
escapes guilt with booze-bleared death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It seemed worse than hate, something not even worth putting energy
into.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sight of that ring made him
sadder than anything, except maybe the half of a wishbone she’d saved, the
winning half.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wondered what that was
about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something from the last time she
would ever be lucky? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The punchline to a
joke she still had to find hilarious no matter how bitter it was? He’d never
know now, there was nobody to ask.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
he’d never really known this Aunt Dot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>These were artifacts of the person who’d replaced her.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
plates in the sink had holly leaves and berries on them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing says fuck-you-world-out-there,
you-have-nothing-to-do-with-me-anymore than eating off of Christmas plates in
July.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yeah,
Claude’s door had a big lock on it, but Claude, through her obligation to him,
was the real captor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe when she felt
the heart attack coming she’d unlocked it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They’d found her in her car on the side of the road, halfway to the
hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d escaped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe Claude had, too.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What
a lonely, depressing place, in a sorrowful stretch of country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the drive in he’d passed enough memorials
to drunken car wreck victims to recreate Bellingrath Gardens in plastic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Far more “I Don’t Call 911” signs with a gun
on ‘em than welcome mats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you’re
going to have a psychotic freak hidden away in your house, it’s lucky to live
in a place where nobody loves anybody, anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Loneliness must be easier when the environment presents no alternative.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
wished he’d called her more, at least.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The last time he’d talked to Aunt Dot – and that’d been years – her
lungs were already so bad that even on the phone she’d rattled like she had a chest
full of dead leaves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How had she gone on
so long?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Duty?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unkind periods of remission that only
prolonged, not saved.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
could see why she hadn’t quit smoking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“You mean these things are killing me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’ll add a pack a day, then!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Poor woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He just wished she
drank, too, but she hadn’t rounded the bases with her vices.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Guess if you’ve got to live with someone who
might attack you you’d want to keep your wits about you.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
that someone might – or might not – still be in that back bedroom.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack
leaned on the sink and listened hard, trying to hear any movement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Outside the birds sang and the air
conditioner unit throbbed with a whine like an idiot forever blowing the same
note on a harmonica.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if you didn’t
start out crazy, that’d send you there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But there was nothing else.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He’d
have to go down the hall and listen at the door.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Or
he could leave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Make up a story to tell
his mother and just leave.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If
he thought he could get away with it, he would, but he knew sooner or later,
his mother would find out that he’d lied and she’d really think he was
nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack was Cajun on his mother’s
side and she was already disappointed in him beyond all reason because he was
the first in the family not to be able to speak French.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was also disappointed in him for other
reasons, having several to choose from.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For one, his marriage to Gail had been a disaster, such a disaster that
he still wore his wedding ring, not because he couldn’t let go of the
relationship but because wearing it was armor plate against starting another
one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes he thought he’d married
her only because drinking alone seemed creepy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His daughter Amber was absolutely indifferent to him and that had
cheated his mother out of a grandchild.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He didn’t have the best job, either… but somehow she always focused on
the French, maybe thinking that was one thing she could still bully him into
changing.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Her
bullying didn’t work for that – he still saw absolutely zero use in French –
but it worked for checking on Claude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Guilt, that gun everyone puts to their own head and shoves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He kept hearing the hammer clicking, and the
live shell was behind that door down the hall.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
fact is, he was doing this because he knew if he didn’t, his mom would nag his
increasingly frail father to take her here so she could do it herself, and Jack
could not – would not – let them face Claude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He wasn’t up to it himself, and his father was well into his sixties,
his mother almost there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If Claude
didn’t outright kill them, he’d take years off their lives.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>He’s
taking years off mine</i>, Jack thought, <i>but I have more to spare.</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
wanted to panic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even in adulthood he
still had reoccurring nightmares about Claude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It wasn’t the way he looked – it was easy to forgive a thing like that –
it was the way he <i>was</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His soul
was in there like a worm in an apple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
had been apparent even in toddlerhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>From Mother’s correspondence with Dorothy, it had only gotten worse with
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Claude was intelligent, and used
his intelligence to increase his evil.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Once,
as a kid, Jack had asked his mother if Claude was the Devil.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom had gotten very embarrassed and said that
wasn’t a nice thing to say.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
she hadn’t said <i>no</i>.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
stared at the darkness of the hall and wondered if it’d be better if Claude
just came out to him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Any second that
form, twisted like an old haunted tree, might float up from that darkness like
a ripened drowning victim, pale and staring from uphere-downthere and smile a
funhouse mirror’s smile and say <i>hey cousin Jack, wanna play ARMYMEN?</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Could
Claude even communicate?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His mother
said he was capable, at least with Dorothy, but all they had to go on was
secondhand information filtered through his aunt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mother believed Claude would be sensible and
reasonable enough to converse with, to discuss his new situation and make some kind
of arrangements for his continued living, make decisions about what he wanted
to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>He was a toddler when you knew
him, Jack, he’s a man now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Impaired
people grow, too</i>.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack
felt Mother was overly optimistic, and doubted Claude’s mouth could even form
speech.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d argued that they should
just call the cops and send them on a concern check, let them work out what to
do with Claude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But Mother said Claude
was family and deserved to have his wishes heard by family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if those wishes were unreasonable <i>then</i>
the authorities would do what they do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And Jack hoped maybe that’s how it’d go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Maybe Claude had grown into a rational person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe even a nice one.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
of course he hadn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s why he was
kept secret.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s why there was still
a padlock on that door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hell, even
though it was open now, there was its key, by the wall phone on a little hook,
with a plastic tag, CLAUDE in Aunt Dot’s curlycue handwriting from <i>I love
you Jack!</i> on<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>all the birthday and
Christmas cards.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Reasonable
people who can be talked to don’t have their nametags on padlock keys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s gotta be a rule of the universe.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Just
open the door, Jack,” he whispered into the rasp of bugs and the whine of the
air conditioner unit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Find out.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
could hear his own heart as he walked down the hallway, but he was
walking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was like someone else was
doing the moving and he was a passenger inside, but he was moving, he was doing
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then he felt banana stickers
under his palm like the scaly hide of some beast and everything inside of him
was being squeezed.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His
cheek pressed to the scaly hide and he listened.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Muttering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something in there, talking low.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Laughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A television, he realized, turned down very low, mumbling through a
commercial.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
held the knob and his heart drowned the TV noise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He turned the knob.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Carefully, carefully, he pushed.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There
was blue-silver light in the room but not much of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Clutter was everywhere, filling the place,
and a trapped sour stench of breath and sweat and worse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’d boarded up Claude’s windows, of
course, like one did with everyone with whom one could have a reasonable
conversation about their future plans after the death of nearly the only person
they’d ever known.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Strung around the
room were Christmas lights, forming absurd constellations, tacked and taped in
madman’s geometry, a glowing web.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
was junk everywhere, dolls, big homemade and twisted scarecrow things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A gnawed rubber baby glared at him from a
chair, much abused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another three hung
from the ceiling, things done to malform them, to make them not look so much
like people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Drawings covered the walls
like pictographs.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>This
was INSANE.</i> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
should shut this door, run to the car, drive away, call the cops from the road
and let them come and do what they were going to end up doing anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was no one in here with whom he could
have any kind of discussion.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
there <i>was</i> someone in here.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Draped
with a blanket, it was sitting on the bed, the television’s flicker playing
over it like a light show, revealing it and hiding it again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The television made cartoon noises that just
made the craziness of doing this even more absurd.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>FA-DOINK!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>BOING!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
blanketed thing shivered.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Claude?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack tried to say, but it was a rustle of
breeze through a rotten cornfield, nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He couldn’t talk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He waved
slowly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Claude would be afraid, too, he
realized.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even a sane person would feel
strange meeting someone new after nearly thirty years of only seeing one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And Claude was, it was clear, not even remotely
sane. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack
cleared his constricted throat and the shape on the bed dropped into a
crouch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It crawled to the side and
mewled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The blanket slid back and Jack
saw waxy-white deformity and a shag of long black hair and it thumped onto the
other side of the bed, plump and soft, and made snuffling sounds of pathetic
fear.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack
stood, waiting, seeing his pulse in his vision.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was no way, no way, he was going around that bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Claude would feel cornered… already <i>did</i>
feel cornered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The TV went to a dark
scene and Jack forgot to breathe.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It…
it’s okay, I’m your cousin… juh-Jack,” he managed to croak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The screen lightened again, red, then green.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Hairiness
poked up over the edge of the bed, and they stared at each other as seconds
dragged by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The cartoon came to a
brighter scene and Jack clearly saw eyes gleaming at him amidst the hair, shiny
black eyes like huge drops of ink, spidereyes the size of golf balls, blinking
rapidly.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There
were <i>three of them</i>.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack
wanted to scream.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Claude’s eyes were
horribly mismatched but there <i>were</i> only two of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hands came up to the edge of the bed, stubby
ones, little more than mittens of flesh, while Jack knew very well that
Claude’s fingers were long, freakishly long, like twigs on a winter branch.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>This
was not Claude.</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This
was… his <i>child?</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Oh
god.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What had Claude done to Aunt
Dot?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had he… or had she gotten so
lonely, so <i>deranged</i> with it, that she…?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Their
offspring mewled, a horrible raspy cry of fear.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
with a wheezing roar Claude burst out of a side door – the bathroom, of course
there must be one – and he filled the room.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack
threw himself backward and fell and crawled through soured laundry and
cardboard boxes and rattling cans as winterbranch fingers sought him, raked
him, trying to grab but being kicked away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jack scrambled frantically toward the doorway as plierfingers nipped a
piece from his leg, then brushed his face, seeking eyes.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Claude
had gotten BIG, a thin, spidery, spread-everywhere big.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He loomed, face all in darkness, a hairy shadow
with gleaming wet parts in it, and his breath rattled as it navigated features
not made for living.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It sounded like an
accordion, wheeze-WHEEZE, then angry mumbling slurps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The gabble was probably English but Jack
hadn’t been trained to understand the deformed noises made by that ruinous
mouth, so it sounded like someone shouting in their sleep.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Stay
away from me STAYAWAYFROMMEEEE!” Jack yelled, kicking at long hands and
bone-thin wire-strong arms, making it on all fours and diving through the door,
and a gnarled veiny white hand slapped down after him, and he slammed the door
and pressed himself against it as Claude battered the other side, raking it,
wheeze-roaring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the background the offspring
bawled like a tortured lamb.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh
god, oh GOD!” Jack whispered, fumbling for the padlock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Claude slammed himself at the door and pushed
it half open before Jack threw himself against it to keep it closed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The hasp didn’t want to fit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As he fumbled the padlock nearly closed
itself and terror shot through Jack because if that locked before he got it in
place, then that’d be the end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Claude
would come out, he’d be dragged back into that flickering den, and he’d find
out how long it took to die by pliers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Fingernails thick as horn tore at the door, and they’d trail through his
flesh like twigs through water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And Claude,
he knew, would laugh as he picked Jack’s bones clean.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
hasp slapped over its eyelet and Jack’s shaking hands hooked the padlock in
place, and he stared at the lock before he clicked it shut, making sure before
he snapped it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Relief
flooded him and he breathed again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Claude, hearing that padlock snap, knowing what it meant, leaned against
the other side of the door and snuffled and wheezed and slurped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His offspring mewled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The two conversed in gobbling babble.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Carefully,
still not trusting it wouldn’t be flung open or burst apart, Jack backed away
from the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His mind still would not
encompass what must have gone on in this house between Claude and Aunt
Dot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two scenarios, both nightmarish.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Unless,
perhaps, there’d somehow been some other woman involved?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some captive?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>God, that might be even worse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And more impossible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Poor Dorothy
would never let <i>that</i> happen, even if she allowed the other.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack
ran to his car, blindly drove through the honeysuckle and twittering birds, and
was over fifty miles away before he even thought of calling the police.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>By
the time they got there Claude had already burned the house down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The two charred skeletons they dug from the
ashes looked less like human remains than twisted driftwood washed up on a<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>beach in a dream.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 7;"> </span><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: medium;">THE
END</span></span></span></p> <p></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: xx-small;">© 2022 by me</span><br /></p><p><br /></p>Zwolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02364540771153476179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-31291119924696528882022-10-27T11:16:00.001-05:002022-10-27T11:16:17.930-05:00Charlie Keeps Using Up His Red Crayons<p> Got another story for y'all. Maybe a couple more down the pike in coming days or weeks. I'm trying to pace them out because few people want to read <i>that</i> much of me. Hell, some of y'all don't wanna read <i>any</i> of me, and fuck ye all sidewise for a bunch of good-for-shit limber-dicked cocksuckers if ya don't! ;)</p><p>Don't think a lot of preamble is needed for this one, so, dive right in... after, of course, the customary handy-dandy Table of Discontents that'll get you more, more, MORE! And all for the same low price of not-nothin'. Even less if you've got a coupon.<br /></p><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
KickerOfElves:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2018/10/just-leave.html" target="_blank">Just Leave </a><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2018/03/the-genius-of-sea.html" target="_blank">The Genius of the Sea</a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/rigor-mortis.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Rigor Mortis</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/men-with-knives.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Men With Knives</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Profbolt:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/08/east-of-rulesville-guest-short-story.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">East of Rulesville</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My stuff:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2022/10/storytime-again-folks.html">The 312 Wisteria Park Tapes </a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2022/10/rain-rain-go-away.html">Rain Rain Go Away </a><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/10/all-angels-are-sleeping-now.html" target="_blank">All The Angels Are Sleeping Now</a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/09/the-nonsense.html" target="_blank">The Nonsense </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/03/out-by-turbines_13.html" target="_blank">Out By The Turbines </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/10/we-will-meet-on-that-beautiful-shore.html" target="_blank">We Will Meet On That Beautiful Shore </a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-guy-in-hallway-show.html" target="_blank">The Guy-In-The-Hallway Show </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/the-screaming-head-of-sister-mary-agnes.html" target="_blank">The Screaming Head of Sister Mary Agnes </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/10/pray-for-agatha-burning-in-hell.html" target="_blank">Pray For Agatha, Burning In Hell </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-night-is-filled-with-maniacs.html">The Night Is Filled With Maniacs </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/03/gone-shootin.html" target="_blank">Gone Shootin' </a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2022/05/walk-all-over-you.html">Walk All Over You </a><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/some-kinda-hate.html" target="_blank">Some Kinda Hate </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/creak.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Creak</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/shrouded-in-rain.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shrouded In Rain </span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2013/11/bodies-not-recovered.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Bodies Not Recovered</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/10/scribblebones.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scribblebones</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/long-tall-sally.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Long Tall Sally</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/shik-chuff.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shik-Chuff</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/11/damp-basements-of-heaven.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">The Damp Basements of Heaven</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2010/10/up-stairs-where-windows-are-painted.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Up The Stairs Where The Windows Are Painted Black</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/665-1.html" target="_blank">665+1 </a></span></div>
And <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/10/pleasant-dreams.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">little descriptions of actual nightmares I’ve had</span></a><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span><b><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">CHARLIE
KEEPS USING UP HIS RED CRAYONS</span></span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Wonderful,”
Suzette said, hanging up the phone and looking wearily at Pamela.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Not
that I was eavesdropping, but that sounded like a daycare thing,” Pamela said,
dropping a stack of reports into Suzette’s in-bin and then shooting them a bird
and shaking it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Kindergarten.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Charlie’s teacher Mrs. Winner wonders if she
could ‘borrow me for a minute’ when I pick Charlie up today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ask if he’s in some kind of trouble but
they can’t ever just tell you anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They get off on using their evil teacher powers to make you wonder
what’s going on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now I’m imagining all
kinds of things, everything from a broken arm to grabbing some little girl’s
cooter.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pamela
laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Well, it can’t be anything too
bad, because whatever you say, Charlie is a little angel.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suzette
sighed and picked up the reports.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Yes
he is, but he’s a <i>five-year-old</i> angel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Just barely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And even a good five
year old is capable of any damn thing.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Malfeasance.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Malfeasance,”
Suzette nodded, flipping pages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Oh god,
the expenditure thing again?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not
going to be able to concentrate on these things while wondering what web of
intrigue my beloved offspring may have become involved in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve gone over this, what, three, four times
now?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Leo
still thinks something doesn’t fit.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Pamela silently mouthed something Suzette didn’t decipher but got the
gist of it when she twirled a finger beside her temple, turned it into a gun,
and clicked the thumb/hammer.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suzette
checked the clock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Well, only around
three hours of excruciating suspense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
guess I can just fake work for that long.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pamela
snorted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Baby, we keep track of a
factory that makes aluminum boats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
factory we’ve never seen and which I sometimes think doesn’t, in fact,
exist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not sure much negatory will
happen if we just fake work every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m tempted to try it.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That’d
be malfeasance.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah,
well, call my mama,” Pamela said, wiggling her butt as she left the
office.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Suzette laughed and dropped the
reports on her desk and went to the Internet to wait out the clock.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>===============</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There
was absolutely no reason for it that Suzette could analyze, but Jessica Winner
was an easy woman for her to dislike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She was always cheerful and pleasant, Charlie liked her, but, mmmmf!,
Suzette could get enough of her in about five minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being stranded in suspense for three hours or
so didn’t help that situation one damn piddledy bit.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m
sorry to bring you in here, Mrs. Frager…” Mrs. Winner started.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It’s
McCall,” Suzette said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And Miss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jay and I recently divorced.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh,
I’m sorry,” Mrst. Winner said.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suzette
thought about saying, “Don’t be, I’m not,” but just nodded with a little smile
instead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mrs. Winner was probably
thinking only of the effect on Charlie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Charlie’s
her job, I’m not</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Anyway,
I’m sorry to bring you in like this, but, well, I thought you should take a
look at these.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She handed a stack of
paper across the little table where they were sitting, and Suzette thought she
might shriek with laughter if it was Leo’s expenditure reports again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Charlie’s been drawing these.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suzette
picked up the papers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A smiling man, a
little more than a stick figure, was holding up a saw over a woman whose
intestines were hanging out, a tangle of purple snakes amidst a lot of enthused
red scribbling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Suzette winced and felt
a chill, looking at the next page where a couple of men had taken off the top
of someone else’s head, exposing a lavender brain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More waxy blood was scrubbed all around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next picture had more intestines and a
rather well-drawn liver – even lobed – and heart being scooped out of
broken-open ribs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the edge of the
intestines was<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a stripe of yellow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Subcutaneous fat</i>, Suzette thought.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh
my god,” she said, turning to the next, showing a body with a stitched-up Y on
the torso and a head that was just a red mess of splatter and exposed
brain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“What… <i>Charlie</i> drew
this?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are you <i>sure?”</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mrs.
Winner nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I made a point of
watching him to make sure, because… well, you wouldn’t want to make a mistake
about this kind of thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, let me
reassure you, his behavior is great.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He’s not doing anything violent, and he’s one of the sweetest, most
thoughtful kids in the class, really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He’s nice to his friends, he’s social, he’s <i>very</i> smart, he’s
funny, nothing at all inappropriate other than… those.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“But
these are enough!” Suzette said, looking through the drawings again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She could smell the crayon wax, he’d
scribbled it so heavily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Red, red, red.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Well,
I’d say,” Mrs. Winner sighed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“When I
ask him where he might have seen anything like this he just shrugs, gives me
I-dunno face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought maybe he’d tell
you more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Could it be, perhaps,
something he’s seeing on television?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or
in some magazine somewhere?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m trying
to imagine…”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No.
No, I don’t watch anything like that, no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And if I did, I certainly wouldn’t do it around Charlie!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My god.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Do they even <i>have</i> anything this graphic on television?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Well,
<i>Walking Dead, Dexter</i>, things like that can get pretty extreme, but if
you say he’s not watching that sort of thing…”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re all sitcoms and, mostly, DVR’ed PBS
shows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood,
Donkey Hodie, Pepa Pig</i>… I seldom get to watch anything from my age group at
all, and wouldn’t watch <i>Walking Dead</i> if I could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Charlie mostly monopolizes the television,
but I don’t mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, nothing…
gory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing violent.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mrs.
Winner nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You say you’re
divorced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe when he’s with his
father?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suzette
shook her head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“No, I can’t
imagine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Look, things didn’t pan out
with Jay and I, but he’s a good dad. He’s rough around the edges, but he knows
his flaws and doesn’t want to pass them on to Charlie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He occasionally watches some things too rough
for me, but he never did it when Charlie was around.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mrs.
Winner nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Still, you may want to
check with him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes dads decide
that a kid’s ‘old enough’ for things when they aren’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You should see some of the gross toys kids
bring in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or maybe he thinks he’s put
Charlie to bed but Charlie’s sneaking out and peeking to see what daddy’s
watching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hardly be the first kid.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suzette
nodded, not believing it for a second but unable to think of any other
explanation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’ll check with Jay about
it, for sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>May I keep these?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’re Charlie’s work, and I’m not
collecting ‘evidence.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I thought he
was being abused, maybe, but I see no sign of that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s a happy child, like I said, very
sweet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only disturbing thing
is…”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She gestured at the papers.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Well,
thanks for alerting me to this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is
a mystery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t imagine…”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She shook her head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’m sorry, this is really upsetting.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Plenty of kids draw gross
things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Boogers, poop, violent
stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You should see how bloody
drawings get at Easter!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Makes me rethink
the emphasis of religion, frankly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
Charlie’s work is so… <i>accurate</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And detailed for his age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean,
it’s great that he has so much talent, but…”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She pulled a face.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suzette
nodded. <i>Subcutaneous fat, my god, how would he even know it exists?</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I… I’ll look into this.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mrs.
Winner smiled and nodded, and they got up and went outside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Charlie was sitting on the ground with a
couple of little Latina girls, putting dirt onto plates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mud pies in the dry season, she supposed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“We going home now?” he asked.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>C’mon, cowboy.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Charlie
put his plate down, waved to the girls, then ran to Suzette.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Am I in trouble?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I haven’t been bad, I think.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mrs.
Winner laughed and put her hand on his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“No, you haven’t been bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told
you it wasn’t that kind of meeting.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
looked at Suzette for confirmation and she smiled and tweaked his nose, but was
still disturbed knowing that guts and dismemberment were in that little
blonde-like-hers head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Charlie reached
up for her hand and they went to the car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As Suzette pulled into traffic, now thicker than usual because Mrs.
Winner’s delay had landed them in five o’clock traffic, Charlie said, “Tho,
what did the want?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had a babyish
lisp he was growing out of but it came back in if he was upset about something.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh,
she wanted to know about some drawings you made,” Suzette said, trying to ease
into it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was very disturbed but
there was no reason to let Charlie see it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh,”
he said, pulling and twisting his fingers, which he suddenly found very
interesting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked like he was
having trouble pulling off a ring that wasn’t there.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Did
you think maybe that’s what it might be about?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
shrugged, very theatrical, so hard he bounced in the seat a bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Maybe.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Where
did you see that stuff, like you were drawing?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
shrugged again and squirmed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I don’t
know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t thee them anywhere.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
must’ve seen something like that, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>On TV?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a book, maybe?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some other kid’s gross toys?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is it something your dad maybe showed you?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Charlie
shook his head no, harder than necessary, and squirmed some more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I just saw it in my head.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Like
made it up?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“That’s what people are like,
inside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’th not bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’th justh how it ith.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suzette
frowned, pulling up at a red light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Well, yes, but how did you know about it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You must have seen it somewhere.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
don’t.. I didn’t <i>thee</i> it anyplace, I just know some stuff.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Just
know some stuff, huh?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yep.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
sighed and shook her head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had an
encyclopedia at home, with anatomy overlays, clear sheets that showed
organs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it was all very clean, so
cleaned up it wasn’t even gross anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She didn’t remember Charlie ever looking at it, but even if he had it
wouldn’t explain the gory dissections, saws and stitches and all that
blood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She rubbed her fingers together,
still feeling the thick wax-blood.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“So
why do you draw that stuff?’</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
shrugged, squirmed, milked his fingers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Just something to draw. It’th not bad to know stuff like doctors,
right?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No,
it’s not bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re not in any trouble,
sweetheart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nobody’s mad at you, you
haven’t done anything wrong, really, we’re just surprised that you know about
those things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’d like to find out how
you learned about it, because it’s a little old for you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a strange thing for a little boy to
know, is all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it’s not naughty.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Charlie
shrugged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I just know some stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can we get McDonald’s?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suzette
sighed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Yeah, cowboy, we can get
McDonald’s.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>=================</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She’d
tried again later and gotten nothing but more shrugs and squirms and
invisible-ring action so she laid off before she’d give him a complex.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While he watched <i>Donkey Hodie</i> she
looked through his room but no medical journals had mysteriously shown up, and
she doubted any publication would have pictures like that in them to begin
with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All the ones she thumbed through
in waiting rooms just had cellular level illustrations that made you feel dumb
when you didn’t know what you were looking at.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Her
ex-husband Jay was kind of a redneck, and getting red-neckier now that he was
on his own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hunting, fishing, increased
alcohol consumption.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d smelled weed
in his truck, she thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe he’d
cleaned a deer in front of Charlie and Charlie applied what he’d seen to
people?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She didn’t think Jay would do a
thing like that, but she’d discovered she didn’t really know him as well as
she’d thought she did, and that was much of the reason they divorced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d been getting angrier with the years, an
anger she couldn’t understand, though he never got violent with her or even
threatened to (although he’d said plenty of mean things, but so had she), and
whatever else she could fault him for, he loved Charlie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Crap husband, good dad.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But,
lying in bed, thinking over those pictures, she couldn’t help entertaining the
absolutely absurd idea that Jay maybe was just really good at covering things
up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe he’d become a serial killer
and let Charlie watch him get rid of bodies on some of his custody weekends.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>No,
that’s just crazy.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jay could be an
asshole, but… <i>no, he wouldn’t kill people</i>. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Of
course, that’s what they also said about Ted Bundy, and that’s why he was able
to <i>be</i> Ted Bundy for so long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
people you could suspect wouldn’t be successful.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Did
the guy smiling and holding the saw look like Jay?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Same color hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But Charlie’s
art skills were a five-year-old’s and other than “brown-haired man” it could be
<i>anybody</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And in some pictures
there was more than one man in on the dismembering.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Jay
and some buddy?</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That
was crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Silly.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
where and how else could he see the stuff? The liver he drew even had fat
scribbled around it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The heart wasn’t a valentine
– it had four aortas or whatever the pipes were called, the arteries.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>All
that blood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her little boy was seeing <i>ALL
THAT BLOOD.</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 6;"> </span>===============</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suzette
had to go to work again on Saturday – that happened a lot – and Jay had to work
on Saturday, too, which also happened a lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jay worked construction and if it rained out a day his contractor
expected the crew to make it up on Saturday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So even though this was Jay’s weekend with Charlie, Suzette had to take
him to work with her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Charlie never
seemed to mind this;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>he liked her
co-workers, and Suzette kept a few toys exclusively at her office that he could
play with, and, best of all, she let him play video games on her Kindle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were all preschool level games so she
knew he wasn’t seeing any gore there.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Finally
a little before five, Jay showed up at the office to pick Charlie up, and
Suzette took him aside before Charlie spotted him.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What’s
up, babe?” Jay asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He still called
her “babe,” by force of habit, and it irritated her, made her think Jay hadn’t
fully accepted that they were really divorced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Suzette stared at him a second, standing there with his beard longer
than he’d worn it when they were married, sawdust stuck to his cap, a dumb look
on his face that was no longer endearing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>No, he wasn’t killing people and chopping them up, she just couldn’t see
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Especially not with his son around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And none of the men in the drawings had a
beard, anyway.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Instead
of saying anything, she handed him the drawings.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
looked down at them, paged through them, then looked up.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Jesus
Christ, Sooze, you ain’t telling me Charlie drew this stuff?” he said, holding
them out to her.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That’s
exactly what I’m telling you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Any idea <i>why</i>
he might draw them?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
frowned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“What?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Damn, Sooze, no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where would I
even get pictures like this to show him… provided I was sick or stupid enough
to do it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which, by the way, I
ain’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No way.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He shook his head.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
aren’t showing him horror movies or TV shows?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Hell
no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wouldn’t show a kid nothing like
that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We watched <i>Frankenstein</i>,
the old 30’s Karloff one, on <i>Svengoolie</i>, but that’s tame.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wasn’t scared.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wouldn’t even let him watch the Hammer
one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No blood for my son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe when he’s twelve we’ll watch Hammer,
but now?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, nothing like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Traumatizing my kid’s not my idea of a good
time, Sooze.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
sighed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just… I can’t figure where this is coming
from.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sure not showing him anything
like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And he’s never out of my
sight, so I was thinking maybe you… I don’t know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s nothing like this in your
apartment?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No magazines, gory comics,
anything?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Naw,
nuh-uh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t even like that kind of
stuff myself.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
haven’t taken him hunting, where maybe he saw a deer getting gutted…?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jay
shook his head hard enough to spill sawdust off his cap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Nope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My Uncle Danny took me hunting when I was eight and that was a
mistake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was too young for it,
horrified by the whole thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I take
Charlie hunting that’ll be another when-he’s-twelve thing, at the earliest, and
that’ll depend on what kind of twelve year old he is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve taken him fishing a few times but I
don’t even clean the fish in front of him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I mean, I think he could handle that, it’s fish, but I just figure… why
do it, you know?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s kind of
gross.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know I’m not as super-smart as
you want, but I’m using judgement, babe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I love that boy and don’t want to hurt him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That… that sick shit ain’t coming from me, I
promise you.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Well,
it’s not coming from me either,” she said, defensively.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m
sure it ain’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know you wouldn’t
expose him to that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hell, you wouldn’t
expose yourself to it, for that matter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And he’s never out of my sight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Does he go over to friends’ houses a lot?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No,
not really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not without me there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His play-dates are my chat-dates.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jay
shook his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Well, I can’t figure
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What does he say about it?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Nothing.
He’s evasive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Says he sees it in his
head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess he could have violent
fantasies, kids do that, but what worries me is, those pictures are <i>accurate</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean, they’re crude, five-year-old level
scrawl, but the liver has <i>fat</i> on it…”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Suzette felt her eyes sting.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
Can’t figure any of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll talk to
him, see if I can find anything out.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Thanks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe he’ll tell you something he won’t tell
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shit, I don’t know.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Is
his behavior weird?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean, he seems
normal with me…”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No,
he’s fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing weird.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His teacher says he’s the sweetest kid in his
class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s all just the pictures.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jay
nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Well, at least they don’t seem
to be bothering him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe it’s just… a
thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe another kid showed him
something, told him something.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suzette
shrugged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“See what you can get out of
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But be easy.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jay
nodded and went to Suzette’s office.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“What’s <i>aaaaahhhp</i>, sport?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How you doin’?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“DADDY!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Charlie squealed, running around Suzette’s
desk to hug him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jay swept him up,
kissed him, rubbed his beard on him, slung him around and blew<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a horrible-sounding fart noise on his tummy
and made him laugh hard.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Excuse
<i>YOU</i>,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jay!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God!” Pamela said, passing by.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Did
it with my mouth, swear to god,” Jay said.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Charlie,
swallowed under the cap he’d yanked off his daddy’s head, laughed. “Nuh-uh, he
did it with his BUTT!”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
little liar!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You did it with YOUR butt!”
Jay said, turning him upside down and swinging him back and forth, making
Charlie giggle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Tellin’ girls lies, at
your age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Terrible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Awful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ahead of your time.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“And
all kinds of funny,” Pamela said, stepping into her office.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suzette
laughed and watched Jay throw Charlie over his shoulder and carry him down the
hall, chattering at him a mile a minute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jay was usually a hard guy to get to talk – one of the problems she’d
had with him – but he was completely different with Charlie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was happy to see it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When
she sat down at her desk, though, she was less happy to see what Charlie had
been drawing;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a wide-eyed, teeth-bared
corpse with a man lifting out long sloppy ropes of viscera, drawn with as much
detail as he could manage with her pens.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 6;"> </span>=================</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Charlie
drew more butchery at school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jay hadn’t
been able to get any information out of him, and Suzette had felt convinced by
Jay’s reaction that it wasn’t coming from him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But that still left the question of where Charlie could have picked it
up.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
next weekend Suzette had Charlie at work again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After playing hide and seek with Pamela – who had to be “it” every time
-- <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Charlie settled into the corner of
Suzette’s office and was very intently drawing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He looked almost maniacal, scrubbing at the paper with a red
marker.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Suzette felt her skin crawl even
though she couldn’t’ see what he was drawing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But she knew.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Leo,
who was even less good with children than he was with adults, but at least <i>tried</i>
with children, came in to discuss yet another round of expenditure reports, and
when he was done, leaned over to notice Charlie and said, “What’re you working
on there, Charlie?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He saw, then
frowned at Suzette and left the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Charlie didn’t bother looking up.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suzette
tried to work for a few minutes, then decided she should attempt to explain to
Leo what he’d seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a quick look at Charlie’s new project – a
corpse with its face peeled off, eyes out, bones protruding from a mangled arm
and guts excised, even worse than usual, bad car wreck or industrial accident,
chewed-up-to-hell – she went to Leo’s office. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Ummm…
I guess I should explain my son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or try
to.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Leo
shrugged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Kids like gross things.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
really don’t know where he’s getting it, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve never let him see anything like that,
but he draws that stuff all the time now.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Leo
shrugged and shifted in his chair, never comfortable interacting with people,
even when not discussing dissection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Well, at least he picked the right place for it,” he said, with a
nervous laugh.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suzette
raised an eyebrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“An accounting office
for a fishing boat company?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Well,
not <i>that,” </i>Leo said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“But years
back, before this building was switched over to office space, this was a
mortuary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your office was the room where
the coroner did autopsies.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 6;"> </span><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: medium;">THE
END</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #01ffff;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">(Copyright 2022 by me my damnself) </span></span><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <span style="color: white;">(copyright</span> <br /></span></span></span></p>
<p></p><p><br /></p>Zwolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02364540771153476179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-36378525095452420992022-10-12T07:27:00.002-05:002022-10-12T07:27:33.972-05:00Rain Rain Go Away<p> Surprise! I un-lazied enough to type another one up already. This one's a bit of a style experiment. I'm about as far removed from being an 8-year-old girl as you can get, so I decided to see if I could do anything from that mindset. It's up to you to decide if I succeeded at all. This one gets creepy but isn't one of my sex 'n' violence ones, so no warnings needed this time. Hope it'll still bug you, in a different way.<br /></p><p>Maybe more to come later, I dunno. I have some written, just not typed up and and revised. Not sure if anybody <i>wants </i>more for a while, anyway, but, eh, we'll see what happens.<br /></p><p>Just to keep things handy, here's the usual Table of Contents for other stories you can find here.</p><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
KickerOfElves:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2018/10/just-leave.html" target="_blank">Just Leave </a><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2018/03/the-genius-of-sea.html" target="_blank">The Genius of the Sea</a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/rigor-mortis.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Rigor Mortis</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/men-with-knives.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Men With Knives</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Profbolt:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/08/east-of-rulesville-guest-short-story.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">East of Rulesville</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My stuff:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2022/10/storytime-again-folks.html">The 312 Wisteria Park Tapes </a><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/10/all-angels-are-sleeping-now.html" target="_blank">All The Angels Are Sleeping Now</a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/09/the-nonsense.html" target="_blank">The Nonsense </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/03/out-by-turbines_13.html" target="_blank">Out By The Turbines </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/10/we-will-meet-on-that-beautiful-shore.html" target="_blank">We Will Meet On That Beautiful Shore </a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-guy-in-hallway-show.html" target="_blank">The Guy-In-The-Hallway Show </a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/the-screaming-head-of-sister-mary-agnes.html" target="_blank">The Screaming Head of Sister Mary Agnes </a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/10/pray-for-agatha-burning-in-hell.html" target="_blank">Pray For Agatha, Burning In Hell </a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-night-is-filled-with-maniacs.html">The Night Is Filled With Maniacs </a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/03/gone-shootin.html" target="_blank">Gone Shootin' </a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2022/05/walk-all-over-you.html">Walk All Over You </a><br /></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/some-kinda-hate.html" target="_blank">Some Kinda Hate </a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/creak.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Creak</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/shrouded-in-rain.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shrouded In Rain </span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2013/11/bodies-not-recovered.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Bodies Not Recovered</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/10/scribblebones.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scribblebones</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/long-tall-sally.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Long Tall Sally</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/shik-chuff.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shik-Chuff</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/11/damp-basements-of-heaven.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">The Damp Basements of Heaven</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2010/10/up-stairs-where-windows-are-painted.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Up The Stairs Where The Windows Are Painted Black</span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/665-1.html" target="_blank">665+1 </a></span></div>
And <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/10/pleasant-dreams.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">little descriptions of actual nightmares I’ve had</span></a><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></span><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">Rain
Rain Go Away</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kasey had used the key she was
really good at keeping up with to let herself into the house she didn’t really
like, and she’d eaten the sandwich Mom had left her and watched <i>Gilligan’s
Island</i> and <i>The Brady Bunch</i> and <i>Bewitched</i> and <i>Gomer Pyle
U.S.M.C.</i> and now the news was on and Mom still wasn’t home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom was <i>always</i> home before Gomer was
over, even if she had to stop at the store.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And now the stupid boring news was almost over and Kasey was feeling
dread, thinking bad thoughts, looking out into the rain.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They’d moved into this house
two, nearly three years ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kasey could
keep track of that because she and Mom had had her sixth birthday here with
UHaul boxes still crowding the place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Mom had dug the pans and stuff needed to make a cake out of the KITCHEN
boxes and they’d had a party all by themselves because neither of them had had
friends yet in this town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was still a
happy birthday because Dad wasn’t there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Dad had gotten obsessed with some politics ess-aych-eye-tee on the
Internet and had turned into another person, one who screamed and made threats
all the time if you said anything but “you’re right, Billy” when he said crazy
things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And Mom wasn’t a
you’re-right-Billy kind of a woman (and neither was Kasey, Kasey had decided)
and after Billy shoved Kasey one day when he lost his temper over something
“the media” said about something one of his heroes had done (and he had done
it, too, Kasey had seen it) Mom had gotten them the-bad-word out of there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dad didn’t love either of them more than he
hated people he didn’t know and Mom said that was no person to live with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kasey agreed, especially since she suspected
he’d shoved Mom, too.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kasey had been glad to get away
from Dad but she still didn’t like this house much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom said it was amazing that they could
afford it and it was a <i>house</i> not an <i>apartment</i> so they didn’t have
to deal with creepy neighbors (like Mr. Wesley who’d always pinched Kasey’s
legs when she wore shorts) but this place was <i>old</i>, like a hundred.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had an old smell, like old books, like
maybe the walls were stuffed with things nobody wanted to read.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the house, Kasey thought, acted like it
was trying to sleep and didn’t want you waking it up by living too loud in it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When you moved in it the floorboards always
complained with creaks and cracks, and Kasey had learned where most of the squealy
ones were but there was always a surprise, like you hit a nerve and made the
place yelp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom said that gave the place
character but Kasey wasn’t sure she was a big fan of character.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She liked a house that’d shut up and just be
a house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But when this place was quiet
it was <i>really</i> quiet, so the quiet became a presence, like something
hiding and waiting and watching, and that was almost worse.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So she never really liked being
here alone but it was only a couple of hours after school while Mom was at the
car dealership and she had the castaways and the Bradys and the Stevens-es to
keep her company.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But now Mom wasn’t
home (<i>why?!)</i> and there was nobody on but the news guy, talking about
politics and Kasey thought a thousand-miles-or-whatever away in Denver her dad
would be having a tantrum at what the guy was saying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There wasn’t much comfort in it.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And the rain was getting
worse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had already been almost dark
as night when she got in and now it <i>was</i> night and the rain was
worse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You could hear it on the roof and
tapping at the windows and the house cracked like firecrackers as the wind
bullied it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And Mom was supposed to be
home but wasn’t.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Even though she didn’t want to
be a baby, when the news was over Kasey tried calling Mom’s office, but the
dealership had closed for the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
texted Mom but got no response, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything, the
way Mom’s cellphone had been working lately, batteries dying and not finding a
signal and you-name-it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom said it was
always a lemon, which meant piece-of-crap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She dropped it a lot which didn’t help it not be a lemon, either.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>The Andy Griffith Show</i>
came on after the news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kasey watched it
and bit her nails.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then it finished and
still no Mom.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The show coming on was some
boring crime-scene show and she didn’t bother to look for another channel, she
just put a Wonder Woman DVD in, since that would calm her nerves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kasey thought or hoped that she might have a
chance to look like Gal Gadot when she got older.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had the same kind of hair and eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom said she was lots prettier than Gal Gadot
but come on, moms always said stuff like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was nice but you couldn’t really <i>believe </i>it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe, though, she could get close.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Diana got her magic rope and
stuff and Mom still wasn’t home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still
wasn’t answering any texts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’d be a
big baby move to call the police or something, but something was wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was raining hard but not hard enough to
strand anybody.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if there was car
trouble Mom would call.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Mom was dead.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Of course she wasn’t, but Kasey
kept thinking it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She thought it a lot,
it was her biggest scary thing to think about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not just because she really loved and needed Mom, but because she wasn’t
going to go live with Dad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, if
Mom ever <i>did</i> die it’d be because crazy Dad killed her, so he’d be in
jail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then she’d maybe have to go live
with Dad’s mom, who wasn’t much better, having been the one who raised <i>him</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom’s mom and dad were dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom had a brother but Kasey had never even
met him, he worked in Egypt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She didn’t
want to live in Egypt, even if he’d take her, which he probably wouldn’t.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mom didn’t answer texts
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kasey felt like she’d eaten a lot
of ice, her tummy cold and tight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her
blood wiggled.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The rain made the house pop a
lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Creak-crack from down the
hallway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a guest bedroom down
the hallway – never used even once – and Kasey had bad dreams about that room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She never liked going there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rain on the window in there was especially
loud, like fingers tapping at it, like a lot of weak people trying to get
inside, and it gave her the creeps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
was a cemetery up the road and she thought of people digging themselves up and
walking through the rain to visit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Stuff like that didn’t happen, she knew, but it scared her anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">She looked out the front door again but there was nothing but the porch
lit up and the rain like static through the floodlight.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Was Mom in a wreck?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’d call her if she was, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You probably couldn’t have a <i>bad</i> wreck
between here and the car dealership, there were no fast roads, and a lot of
stoplights and traffic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You couldn’t get
up enough speed for a <i>killing</i> wreck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Maybe she’d break a leg or something but she’d be okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her friend Tim’s mom had had a wreck down the
street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did the car up pretty good but
she’d just gotten a bump on the head, no big hairy deal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They made cars tough now.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She did a search on her phone for
wrecks in this town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were a few
mentions but they’d all happened years ago, and only one said anybody died.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Something in the hall went <i>crick-crick-crack-crick</i>
like the boards would do if she ran on tiptoe, but of course nobody was there.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Or probably not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She hadn’t looked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She hadn’t gone in that part of the house
since she came home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And she didn’t want
to now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She could see the door into the
hallway, but she’d have to get up and look around the door to actually see down
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And she’d have to turn on a light,
because the hallway was dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the
guest room was at the end of it, with the big tappy-tap window and the bad
dreams in it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She couldn’t remember the
dreams much, but they were weird and bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One had been about something like a big ball of white, wet hair in the
room, moving like something was inside it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kasey knew that was a <i>really</i> bad dream because mom freaked out
and wondered how her brain (still six years old at the time) had even invented
something like it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kasey just hoped she <i>had</i>
invented it, rather than <i>sensed</i> it somehow in her sleep.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There <i>could</i> be somebody
in the hallway, she thought, hearing another sneaky creak.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And there<i> could</i> be
somebody out in the rain, tapping at the window.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There <i>could</i> be a huge
ball of white hair in that room, squirming<i>.</i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kasey was mad at herself,
scaring herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why would anybody want
to tap at the window or break in just to sneak around the hall?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Why would Mr. Wesley want to
pinch a six-year-old girl’s legs?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>People were weird, that’s why.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Out in the hallway there was a
sneaky <i>creeeeeeaaaak</i> and then a sharp <i>POP!</i> of a board, and then
silence that sounded like waiting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Your
move, Kasey</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She thought she heard
muffled laughter.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kasey knew that board.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d hit it a few times, but she usually had
to be running to set it off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a
board that usually only talked to Mom. That board needed <i>weight</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Weight, waiting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Waiting weight.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She wanted to mute the TV and
listen but then whatever was there would know she was aware of it and listening
for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As long as it thought it was
getting away with its sneaking it would keep sneaking instead of doing
anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Besides, it’d be hard to hear
sneaking with the rain going, pattering down the windows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The whole house sounded like sneaky things
everywhere, at the windows, in the walls, on the roof.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sneakything in the hall could blend
in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The streetlight out the side
window was the moon in a field of stars now, caught in all the rain on the
window.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A tree was whipping in the wind
like a ghost in a ragged sheet, like something trapped and struggling to free
itself so it could come into the house.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Like I need more problems</i>,
Kasey thought.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Wonder Woman wouldn’t sit
here and wonder what was in the hall</i>, Kasey thought, looking at the
TV.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite her name, Wonder Woman never
wondered about anything, she just <i>did</i> it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gal Gadot wasn’t <i>really</i> Wonder Woman
but she wouldn’t sit here, either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Neither would Mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course,
none of them were almost-nine, they all had certain authority just by being
grown-ups, but if Kasey had to she could run really fast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was the fastest for a girl in her whole
class except for this girl named Alice and she’d almost caught Alice a couple
of times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If someone was in the hall she
could outrun it and get down the street to Mr. Johnny’s house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was a nice guy who was always fixing stuff
for her and Mom and not even charging anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He wasn’t a leg-pincher, he talked to her like she was smart and grown
up, what Mom said was “respect,” and she knew she didn’t have to be scared of
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d let her in and get the cops if
someone was in the house.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So Kasey got up, real sneaky,
and crept to the edge of the door to the hallway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She leaned around and peeked out.
Darkness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She flicked the light switch
and got a better view of an empty hallway.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And, off to the left, the open
door to the room with the tapping on the window, where the wet white hair
lived.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was dark in there.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>It probably ducked in there
when it saw me peeking</i>, Kasey thought, then frowned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was just scaring herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She couldn’t remember ever going into the
white-hair room when Mom wasn’t home but she was being dumb worrying instead of
looking so she walked down the hall and turned on the light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one was in there, just a bed and dresser
and a couple of chairs and some boxes of stuff Mom could move out if they ever
got a guest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tapping was rain on the
window and some wet branches, not a bunch of fingers or creepy people from the
cemetery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mr. Wesley wasn’t out there,
grinning and trying to get in to pinch her legs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A pair of socks – Kasey’s Garfield socks –
were on the bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe Mom had been
folding laundry there and forgotten them.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Even though there was nobody in
the room, Kasey still felt a feeling, the same one she had when she was playing
hide and seek at Tim’s house and she was “it.” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The closet door was slightly
open but almost shut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone could be
in there, waiting, holding its breath, grinning with the suspense of getting
away with it.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She could hear it snickering,
mingled with the static of the rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sneaky laughing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For some reason,
hiding and being sneaky always made people want to laugh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe because being sneaked-on was scary, so
it was fun and mean being on the other side of the situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If she opened that closet door it’d jump out
and grab her so it could laugh while she screamed.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She ran back to the living room
and the TV.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She called Mom again. No
answer.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If her phone melted in a flaming
car wreck it wouldn’t even ring, she thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The phone still existed, so Mom still existed.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kasey sat very still and watched
the television, waiting.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There was a creak, from the
kitchen this time.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Two of them?</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or one that could get past her and move
around the house because it wasn’t a <i>person</i>, it was something like wet
white hair or the other things she’d bad-dreamed about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She remembered another dream about that room,
about a box that was in there with something writhing inside it,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>something soft like a big worm thrashing
around, making crying noises like a hurt sheep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now it might be out of the box, out of the
dream, and here in the house, playing hide and seek with her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>You’re it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re it, Kasey!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Better find me!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hee hee hee!</i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She got up and checked the
kitchen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rain was loud in here,
especially in the alcove where the washer and dryer were. She turned on the
light in there, looked around, nothing.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kasey cut off the lights and
went back to the living room, threw herself back on the couch, annoyed at
herself for getting scared like a big stupid baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom being late just had her nervous.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then she noticed one of her
Garfield socks on the couch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She only
had one pair of Garfield socks and she’d just seen them in the back bedroom and
cold smooth white shot through inside her and squeezed.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Something in the hallway
laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had a gurgly, hoarse laugh,
dry and wet at the same time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
bully-playing-a-mean-prank laugh.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Maybe the sock was a way to tell
Kasey that the game of hide-and-seek was changing, and because she was too
timid to seek, it wanted to be “it” now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It had lured her to the kitchen so it could plant the sock to make its
announcement.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The rain was steady and she
wondered if Mr. Johnny would be home if she ran down the street in the
rain?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom would come home and wouldn’t
find her and she’d be scared, as scared as Kasey was when Mom didn’t come home
at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And Mom would walk into the
house not knowing she was in a game of hide and seek with the wet white hair or
the squealy-worm thing from the box.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If
Mom didn’t know she was playing, they’d get her.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And those socks hadn’t come from
the laundry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kasey remembered now that
she’d worn them a couple of days ago and they’d been on the floor of her
room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her “playmate” had put them in the
guest bedroom as a tease, as a way to say “I’m really here, Kasey!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Find me!”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If she were to seek, <i>what</i>
would she find?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If she hid, <i>what</i>
might find her?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>WHERE WAS MOM?!</i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><i> </i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She didn’t want to play.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She dialed Mom again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The phone rang, nobody answered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She could call the police but that might get
Mom in trouble, and besides, it was big-baby-stuff, calling 911 because you
found a dumb sock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe it was okay to
be a big baby when you weren’t quite nine but it wasn’t okay with Kasey.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She had <i>heard</i> that
laugh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was pretty sure it wasn’t a
rainstorm trick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then the floorboards in
the hall gave little rapid squeaks, squeakle-squeakle-squeakle, a
dog-with-a-chew-toy sound that said <i>I’m waaaaaait-innng.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Play… with… me!</i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kasey ran to the kitchen, turned
on the light, then darted into the alcove and squeezed herself next to the
dryer, pulled the plastic trash can they used as a laundry basket in front of
her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a mistake, she knew
immediately, she’d cornered herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
held her breath and listened, her palm pressed to her chest, feeling
ba-boom-ba-boom-ba-boom.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Silence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For a long time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just rain
sounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Water was giggling in puddles
outside, flowing off the roof, chuckle chuckle.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then <i>creeeeeak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Creeeeeak-POP!</i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kasey held her breath as long as
she could, then tried to breathe quietly, but she wanted air so badly it was
hard to control and it felt too loud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She felt a presence, right on the other side of the wall from her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It must be right by the oven.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another board popped and she choked on a
scream and she thought she heard a laugh.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Who are you?</i> she thought
in a smooth white panic and a voice in her head whispered <i>I am the rain</i>.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She smelled rain, but bittered
by being soaked into rotting old boards, and under it, just for a second, she
caught a ripe, dirty-person tang.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once,
after he’d been shouting at her and Mom over something that had made him scary
enough to start her crying, her daddy had picked her up and tried to make her
make up with him, when she hadn’t wanted anything but to get away from
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had smelled like that, sweaty
and boozy, a mean smell, which should be in Denver, not in this house.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then it was just rain again, and
the sound of rain, like an army of rats marching across the roof, giggling
rat-giggles.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Light spilled in from the
doorway to the kitchen and she watched it intently, waiting for a shadow to
cross it.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Minutes passed, and there was no
shadow, and no noises, but all that proved to her was that maybe her “playmate”
was very skilled at being still and waiting, or perhaps it was the kind of
thing that didn’t cast shadows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She held
her breath, trying to hear <i>its</i> breath, but maybe it didn’t <i>need</i>
to breathe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe it had died a long
time ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A visitor from the cemetery up
the road.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Or maybe it had died just a
couple of hours ago. Maybe it was Mom and she was dead but <i>trying</i> to be
home.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>No!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She pinched herself, mad because she was
scaring herself and that was helping <i>it</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was only here because she was afraid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The rain and Mom not being home made her afraid and the fear drew it to
her, like a bully.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was always here
but couldn’t do anything because it was usually too weak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Her</i> weakness was its strength.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There were little creaks. It was
tiptoeing away, looking elsewhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or
drawing her out.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She felt certain it knew where
she was, so why didn’t it just come in already?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Because then the game would be
over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The game was all it had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Other than giving her bad dreams while she
was asleep and vulnerable, this was all the fun it had.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kasey eased the laundry trash
can away and stood up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She stepped out.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Nothing was in the kitchen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But Mom’s bedroom door, which adjoined the
kitchen, was closed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She couldn’t
remember it <i>ever</i> having been closed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Mom didn’t like closed doors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kasey had to be <i>really</i> mad before she’d even shut the door to her
room.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kasey ran back to the living
room and looked for her phone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
thought she’d left it on the coffee table but it wasn’t there now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She went around the room, finally finding it
in Mom’s chair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kasey hadn’t put it
there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom didn’t care if she sat in it
but she never did because she had a respect for it being Mom’s and besides it
was an icky yellow-and-orange fabric that even Mom thought was ugly but too
comfortable to replace just for looks, not on their budget.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She dialed Mom again and got
nothing but heard Mom’s bedroom door bump against the wall as it opened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Looking toward the kitchen she saw a shadow
in there and heard a laugh.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kasey raced to her bedroom and
slid under her bed and lay there in the dark, her heart pounding, rain
pounding, everything creaking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Oh god
oh god oh god…</i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><i> </i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></i>Footsteps came into the
room, sneaky, but rhythmic, something smug doing a dance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your-mother’s-not-coming-home-and-you’ll-live-with-ME-now,
the rain was telling her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ha ha ha ha
ha.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The bedsprings creaked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was climbing on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kasey squeezed her eyes and fists shut,
fighting off a blizzard of panic inside her, willing it to go away, go away, it
HAD to go away!</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But it didn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead the bedsprings creaked, quietly,
rhythmically, like it was jumping on the bed just a little.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or, she thought horribly, like it was doing
sex.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She wanted to scramble out from
under the bed because it obviously knew she was there, but where else could she
hide?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every hiding place is also a
trap, and this playmate might stop toying with her and do whatever things it
did, stuff you in a box, wrap you in old dead-people hair,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>push itself inside you and squirm around in
your mind and help it make nightmares for whoever’s next.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She wanted to scream but to
scream you have to breathe and she wasn’t breathing anymore, her heart was
slamming her lungs too hard to allow any room.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then the front door clicked
open, then shut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Loud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not imagination.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She choked.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Kasey?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kasey, hon, where are you?”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>MOM!</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tears burst out and Kasey crawled out from under
the bed, banging her head on the edge of it but not caring, and she crawled
quickly toward the door, expecting to be grabbed by whatever was on the bed,
and whatever that was she didn’t dare look back to see.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She tried to yell but all that came from her
throat was a wheeze.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her bedroom door
was swinging slowly shut but she shoved through it and got up and ran, and she
was thinking <i>it’s a trick, it’s a mean trick</i> until she saw her mother
and flung herself at her, crying.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh, god, honey, I’m sorry!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m so sorry!” Mom said, hugging her
hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I tried to call, but I left my
phone at the dealership.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom crouched
down and pulled Kasey to her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Larry,
you know Larry?”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Larry was a happy chubby guy who
always joked with her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kasey liked him.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“As we were leaving work, Larry
had a heart attack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got him to my car
and rushed him to the hospital, didn’t have time to get my purse or anything,
it’s been craziness!”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kasey snuffled back her inner
crybaby, trying to decide if she even wanted to admit about the playmate she’d
suffered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She thought about Larry, and if he was dead,
maybe he was the playmate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Larry would
never be that mean, but maybe being dead <i>made</i> you mean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You were a different person after you were
dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Are you okay?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is Larry okay?”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Larry will be fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was bad but we got there in time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Oh, honey, I’m sorry, I just got so wrapped up, I couldn’t think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I worried about you but I kept thinking I’d
be able to leave any minute, but things kept dragging out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was close, but they got Larry in, put a
stent in him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’ll probably need more,
but he was okay, he was joking and worrying about you more than himself, kept
telling me to go home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I had to be
sure he’d be okay before I could leave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He needed me there, or I thought he did…”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Of course, I understand,” Kasey
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom kissed her.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Were you really scared?”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>No sense lying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I called a bunch of times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
didn’t know what happened to you.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I know, I can imagine how scary
that was, I am so, so sorry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know
you’re a big girl now, but that was a lot to put you through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And with a storm and all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today was nuts!”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kasey nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And the house was being creepy.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Old houses are always creepy in
the rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am so sorry, honey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Look, tomorrow I’ll take off work, we’ll let
you skip school, and we’ll go visit Larry in the hospital and then we’ll do
whatever you want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Okay?”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Okay.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kasey was so buoyant with relief she didn’t
care about anything else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The playmate
felt gone now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe she’d just scared
herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe she’d imagined
everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seemed stupid now.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Come on, let’s get me some
dinner,” Mom sighed, hanging up her raincoat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“I am starved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did you eat your
sandwich?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kasey nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Maybe I’ll fix us both some spaghetti.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sound good?”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kasey nodded, following her mom
to the kitchen, glancing at her bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was empty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe it’d always been.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In the kitchen, she peeked into
her mom’s bedroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Empty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her mom got out pots and pans.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Okay, young lady, what’s the
idea of putting your dirty socks on the table?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We eat there!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s gross!” Mom
said, and Kasey turned to see her mother holding up a Garfield sock while,
deeper in the house, the guest bedroom door slammed, like someone who’d had a
toy taken away was having a tantrum.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: medium;">THE<span> </span>END</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"> </p> <br /><p></p>Zwolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02364540771153476179noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-54685668805923656032022-10-10T11:13:00.003-05:002022-10-10T11:15:01.154-05:00The 312 Wisteria Park Tapes<p> <span> </span><span> </span>Storytime again, folks. Horror for Halloween, and it's another evil wicked mean and nasty one, in all ways. If you need trigger warnings, consider yourself notified. Everything's funny... until it's not. <br /></p><p> <span> </span> <span> </span>I may manage to type up another story or two before the Halloween month is up, but I am awful lazy so... we'll see. I have a half dozen or so things already completed, other than revision, and several more in the working stages, so anything's possible.</p><p>As always, if you want more, we have lots of it. Here's a handy list o' links:</p><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
KickerOfElves:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2018/10/just-leave.html" target="_blank">Just Leave </a><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2018/03/the-genius-of-sea.html" target="_blank">The Genius of the Sea</a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/rigor-mortis.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Rigor Mortis</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/men-with-knives.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Men With Knives</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Profbolt:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/08/east-of-rulesville-guest-short-story.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">East of Rulesville</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My stuff:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/10/all-angels-are-sleeping-now.html" target="_blank">All The Angels Are Sleeping Now</a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/09/the-nonsense.html" target="_blank">The Nonsense </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/03/out-by-turbines_13.html" target="_blank">Out By The Turbines </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/10/we-will-meet-on-that-beautiful-shore.html" target="_blank">We Will Meet On That Beautiful Shore </a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-guy-in-hallway-show.html" target="_blank">The Guy-In-The-Hallway Show </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/the-screaming-head-of-sister-mary-agnes.html" target="_blank">The Screaming Head of Sister Mary Agnes </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/10/pray-for-agatha-burning-in-hell.html" target="_blank">Pray For Agatha, Burning In Hell </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-night-is-filled-with-maniacs.html">The Night Is Filled With Maniacs </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/03/gone-shootin.html" target="_blank">Gone Shootin' </a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2022/05/walk-all-over-you.html">Walk All Over You </a><br /></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/some-kinda-hate.html" target="_blank">Some Kinda Hate </a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/creak.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Creak</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/shrouded-in-rain.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shrouded In Rain </span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2013/11/bodies-not-recovered.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Bodies Not Recovered</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/10/scribblebones.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scribblebones</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/long-tall-sally.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Long Tall Sally</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/shik-chuff.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shik-Chuff</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/11/damp-basements-of-heaven.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">The Damp Basements of Heaven</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2010/10/up-stairs-where-windows-are-painted.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Up The Stairs Where The Windows Are Painted Black</span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/665-1.html" target="_blank">665+1 </a></span></div>
And <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/10/pleasant-dreams.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">little descriptions of actual nightmares I’ve had</span></a><p></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><p><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> <span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></span><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">The
312 Wisteria Park Tapes</span></span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I
know this is every misbehaving child’s excuse, but Eddie and his girlfriend
Samantha started it.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I
came home from class and they were giggling over Samantha’s phone, that kind-of-guilty
snickering that kids looking at pornography do.<span>
</span>It couldn’t be pornography, though – they <i>did</i> pornography, and I
had to listen to it.<span> </span>I’d even found some
they uploaded to YouPorn, because Eddie’s careless with computers. </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I tried ignoring them and started putting
together a sandwich, figuring they were either going to let me in on it or they
weren’t, and I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of asking.<span> </span>Eddie’s the kind you want to spite.<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I
tried to find leftover bacon but there’s no such thing, so I used bologna, the
last refuge of the scoundrel.<span> </span>They
watched me, giggling like I was juggling the stuff instead of preparing it for
consumption.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Of
course they couldn’t stand it and told me before I got the sandwich
finished.<span> </span>They leaned on the end of the
bar and Eddie put the phone down and said, “Dude, you gotta hear this!”<span> </span>Samantha smiled like she was going to bust
open and splatter the room with glee.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I
gotta, huh?”<span> </span>I said.<span> </span>“Who says?<span>
</span>Where’s your gun?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I
says,” Samantha said, clicking a thumb-and-index at me.<span> </span>“Here.”<span>
</span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You
ain’t bigger than me, bitch.”<span> </span>She’s
not, either.<span> </span>She’s like five-four, the
shortest girl Eddie ever dated.<span> </span>She made
him look tall, and he’s a peesquirt.<span>
</span>She’s also too cute for him.<span>
</span>Every girl is.<span> </span>How he ever got
any I really don’t know.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Oh,
shut up.<span> </span>Here, just listen.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>She
poked the screen and I heard muffled conversation in angry tones, some argument
somewhere.<span> </span>From the midst of the babble
a graveltruck of a voice rose up and howled, “AISSSS-hoe!<span> </span>That’s all you are.<span> </span>A-S-S-H-O-double-toothpicks!<span> </span>Big ol’ trumpet asshole and the rest of you’s
just wrapped around it like a butt-burrito, <i>stuck</i> to it with grime! Grout!<span> </span>Grackle!<span>
</span>Somebody was to wipe you, you wouldn’t be NOTHIN’!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I
laughed and Samantha leaned over, laughing so hard she couldn’t make any
noise.<span> </span>Eddie had his back to us but his
shoulders were heaving.<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Another
more weedy voice said, “Well, you already ARE nothin’!<span> </span>Without even gettin’ wiped!<span> </span>Unwiped nothin’, that’s you and your fat
fartin’ mama.”<span> </span>He made walrus noises,
malevolently obnoxious.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“What
is this?”<span> </span>I laughed.<span> </span>Eddie had withered to the floor at this
point, and Samantha shushed me.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“What
you know about wiping anything?” the first voice barked.<span> </span>“You just let it dry and WALK it off!<span> </span>You are DEGENERATE!”<span> </span>Then it dissolved into crossed voices
shouting over each other.<span> </span>One of them
yelled “You are UNSUITABLE!” and then I was gone, laughing as hard as Eddie and
Sam.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I
tried getting enough breath to ask again where they got this, but Samantha held
up a finger, grinning.<span> </span>I listened.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Least
I <i>can</i> walk!”<span> </span>the other voice
said.<span> </span>“You just… BEH!<span> </span>You all… just… BEH-BEH-BEH!<span> </span>Scoot all around like a ol’ SHIT!<span> </span>Everywhere you go, just UHH-GUH-UH, like
that!<span> </span>Like some damn fuckin’ shit,
that’s how YOU are!<span> </span>Just
huh-huh-huh-HUH!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I
was howling by now, knowing we were missing some visual, but it all sounded so
weird and stupid and put ridiculous pictures in my head.<span> </span>“Right out of somebody’s nasty ol’
granddaddy BUTT!” the voice yelled with crazy anger, and Samantha paused it,
then doubled over shrieking.<span> </span>She was
trying to say something, probably repeating what the guy had said, but it just
came out as gasping squeaks.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Okay,
what the hell is that?”<span> </span>I asked.<span> </span>“Where in hell’d you get it?<span> </span>Is that…”<span>
</span>and I pointed.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Through
the wall,” Eddie laughed, nodding.<span> </span>“It’s
the drunk-druggies next door.<span> </span>They got
in one of their fights, and they’re <i>loaded</i>.<span> </span>It goes on for like half an hour.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“At
first we were afraid they were going to kill each other,” Samantha said.<span> </span>“Once we figured out they weren’t, it started
getting hilarious.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“They
are <i>plastered</i>,” Eddie laughed.<span>
</span>“To’ up from the flo’ up, then back down like a clown.<span> </span>I think one of them eventually passed out and
that’s the only reason they quit.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“One
yelled at the other for about five minutes even after he passed out,” Samantha
giggled.<span> </span>“That’s <i>hate</i>, buddy.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Eddie,
wheezing, said, “He called the passed out one a… a… a sleeping horse cunt.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“<i>Whore’s</i>
cunt,” Samantha said, in a tone that said they’d already argued over this.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Horse
cunt’s funnier,” Eddie insisted.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Horse
whore’s even better,” I said.<span> </span>“Eddie
lost his virginity to a horse-whore.<span>
</span>Like eight times he lost it.<span> </span>In
one weekend.<span> </span>Cost him two hundred
dollars worth of hay.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Shut
up,” Eddie said.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Sorry,
I forgot I wasn’t supposed to tell,” I said.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Quit
trying to be funnier than… “ he jerked a thumb at the wall.<span> </span>“You will fail!” </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Figured
I’d fill in while they were sleeping,” I said, finally getting to take a bite
out of my sandwich.<span> </span>“So what do you plan
on doing with that recording, G. Gordon?<span>
</span>Play it for the landlord so he’ll<span>
</span>insulate our cardboard-ass walls?<span>
</span>Or at least know the new tenants are about to kill each other?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“And
that the old ones are eavesdroppers?”<span>
</span>Samantha said.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I
pointed at her.<span> </span>“Even worse in my
book.<span> </span>Eavesdroppers are the worst.<span> </span>Murder I can justify, especially if your
roommate’s an unwiped nothin’.” </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“And
an <i>unsuitable</i> one!” she said, and I pointed again.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Nah,
I’m putting this bad boy on YouTube,” Eddie said.<span> </span>“Going to have to work up some visual for it
that’s not just the wall of the apartment.<span>
</span>Plus, we’re in it and I don’t want to be seen.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“That’s
not what I heard,” I said.<span> </span>They didn’t
know I’d found the YouPorn clips but it was fun to make them wonder
sometimes.<span> </span>If you post video of yourself
screwing, you deserve to live paranoid.<span>
</span>In retrospect, I wonder if Samantha knew that footage had been
posted?<span> </span>She never reacted when I hinted,
but sometimes Eddie got a look to him.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“The
neighbors might beat our asses if they knew we recorded them,”<span> </span>Eddie said.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah,
and if you take your faces out, they’ll never figure out who could have
recorded them from the next apartment,” I said.<span>
</span>“Brilliant. It’s a brilliant plan, I’m sure you’ll get away with it.<span> </span>No comeuppance in your future, no sir.<span> </span>Too smarty-smart for that.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Eddie
waved that off.<span> </span>He always did a lot of
waving when he was beaten in an argument.<span>
</span>He’d made the mistake of trying to defend the Republican party to me
once and ended up looking like he was trying to flag down a plane.<span> </span>“I figure I’ll get Pagan to make a cartoon
for it.<span> </span>He’s always wanting something to
practice on.<span> </span>With the right cartoon I
bet this could get a million hits.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Just
what I always wanted,” I said.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“No,
man, people make money off YouTube.<span> </span>For
real money.<span> </span>Like that asshole thinks
he’s a wizard, that ugly fuck, rabbit-toothed vomit in a black leather jacket,
you know the guy.<span> </span>Or that spasmo with
the beanie glued to his head.”<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I
shrugged.<span> </span>I had no idea who he was
talking about, but I’m not a big follower of YouTube.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Or
that one chick who paid for college with it.<span>
</span>What’s her name, big crazy teeth, always talking about sex.<span> </span>They’re like millionaires.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“If
talking about sex paid, you’d not only cover college, you’d own this building
and could put microphones right in their apartment.<span> </span>Cameras, too.<span>
</span>Solve the great mystery, find out if they’re really wiping or not.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah,
whatever.<span> </span>I just figure if we’re going
to have to put up with these morons hollering all the time we at least ought to
get something out of it.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“How
gloriously exploitative of you,” I said.<span>
</span>“You know Shut Up Little Man already did this, right?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Eddie
claimed not to know what that was but I suspect he was trying to cling to the
notion that he’d happened on something really original.<span> </span>Samantha knew all about it, though, and she
helped me explain to Eddie that back before the internet these two punk guys
had pretty much invented the idea of “going viral” with tapes of their drunken
neighbors fighting.<span> </span>They’d recorded
these guys verbally abusing each other and the tapes had been widely distributed
on a tape-trading circuit.<span> </span>Eddie was
bummed to find that he hadn’t discovered any new concept but he was pleased to
find that the whole thing had led to a documentary and a stage play.<span> </span>He’s always doing OTB, off-track-betting on
dog races and stuff, always wanting easy money, and he has an inflated idea of
how much you can make from “going viral.”<span>
</span>Long shots are his plan A and he has no fallback.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>If
it happened once, he reasoned, it could repeat.<span>
</span>Lightning could, perhaps, strike twice for the next generation.<span> </span>Everything now was picked out of the past’s
rubble and repeated, anyway.<span> </span>Half the
movies and TV shows were remakes of seventies-eighties-nineties.<span> </span>People wore fucking fedoras.<span> </span>Vinyl. <span> </span>All the bands sounded like Sabbath or Zep.
Having a lot of VHS made you cool.<span> </span>Def
Leppard were on more tee-shirts than they were when the drummer still had both
arms.<span> </span>Nobody made any sense.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>And
even without the money, for some reason Eddie always wanted to be YouTube
famous.<span> </span>It didn’t seem to matter much
that pretty much everyone who was a big deal there was the worst kind of a
piece-of-shit, it still seemed like an achievable goal, something he could do
if he only found the right gimmick to trip the public’s trigger.<span> </span>He’d tried doing rants, but Eddie’s not
particularly bright and he’s not half as funny as he thinks he is, so that went
so ignored as to hurt his feelings.<span> </span>Then
he tried filming his dog (who he’d named Michael P. Reynolds because he thought
having a dog with a name like that would be hilarious – see what I mean about
him not being that funny?<span> </span>Don’t try
getting it, there’s nothing to get), but Mike’s tricks are fairly pathetic things,
like rolling onto his back and showing you his balls, or covering his nose with
his paws if you make a fart noise --- shit you’d have to be real drunk to get
excited about.<span> </span>Mike did get more hits
than Eddie’s rants, though, which just hurt Eddie’s feelings worse.<span> </span>You are less than dog balls, it told him.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I
don’t know how many hits the YouPorn vids got but I wasn’t pleased with being
one of the few, the ashamed;<span> </span>some things
you’re just better off not knowing about your friends, like that their dicks,
like their politics, swing right.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Anyway,
Eddie planned all sorts of things around the recording of the neighbors’
argument, and, like most things that Eddie gets interested in, he didn’t get
around to actually doing much about it, and by the end of the week it was
forgotten.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Then
the next weekend, the neighbors did it again.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 3.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span>·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-language-override: normal; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>*<span> </span>*</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I ain’t give a shit, I ain’t!”<span> </span>the voice through the wall roared.<span> </span>“You watch that shit all the time and ain’t
nothin’ ever happens!<span> </span>Crap on it!<span> </span>No… climb up a LADDER and crap on it!<span> </span>FOOTBALL, you shit-fuck!<span> </span>Hell yeah!<span>
</span>That is what we’re watching and fuck you and…”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Hell NO!<span> </span>Teams ain’t no good!<span> </span>Who wants to watch them?<span> </span>Who cares?<span>
</span>It’s like…”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I want to watch,
that’s who…” </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“… like watching two
loaded diapers get smacked together.<span> </span>And
<i>yeah</i>, you’d want to watch that, because <i>you</i> love<i> shit!<span> </span></i>Oh, hooray, here’s some shit, that’s for
me, I’m happy now, shit!<span> </span>Mmm-WAH!<i>”</i></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Christ but they were
loud.<span> </span>Eddie rested the phone against the
wall and had a hand jammed in his mouth to stifle the laughter.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I’m gonna shoot
you…” one voice said, suddenly frosty and measured, “…right in your dumb
pumpkin face.<span> </span>And then I’m gonna sit
down and watch the game through the hole in your head.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Be the last game
you ever watch, too,” the other voice said, not as loud now, actually scared.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“How come would that
be?<span> </span>What you gonna do, haunt me?<span> </span>HA!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You’ll go back to
prison, you shoot me.<span> </span>Right back to the
penitentiary and you’ll stay there for keeps, like they oughtta done the first
time.<span> </span>The world got no need of you
running around in it.<span> </span>You and your
football horseshit whatev…”<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span><i>Back</i> to
prison.<span> </span>Interesting and scary thing to
know about the neighbor. Can’t say it was surprising, though.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Shiiiiit, ain’t
nobody put a man in prison for shooting a thing like you.<span> </span>Shooting a bucket of shit ain’t
illegal.”<span> </span>He laughed like a triumphant
lunatic.<span> </span>“Don’t even send cops, just a
guy with a mop and a thank-you card.<span>
</span>Public service, that’s what shooting you is.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah, you’ll find
out.” </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Bucket of
shit!<span> </span>And ain’t much bucket!<span> </span>Hell, I ain’t see no bucket a’tall!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Eddie was struggling
for breath, trying not to laugh out loud and get on the recording.<span> </span>I wasn’t nearly as cracked up about it
because I couldn’t see what was going on in that apartment.<span> </span>If that one guy had a gun out then this
wouldn’t be nearly as funny, despite all the “shits” and rock-‘em sock ‘em
diaper imagery.<span> </span>And this revelation that
one of them had done time took a lot of the humor out of the thing.<span> </span>This could turn into a comedy snuff
tape.<span> </span>Rather than going on YouTube, it
might go into an evidence file.<span> </span>The
laughs could end any second with a couple of loud reports.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Looking at Eddie I
had a skin-crawly feeling that, just possibly, that might only make him laugh
even harder.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>They shouted over
each other, a tangle of hate you couldn’t decipher beyond the stand-out hard
sounds of profanity.<span> </span>They sounded
unhinged, and I thought maybe we should call the cops, but – and this felt
perverse, because it was team-Eddie – I didn’t want to spoil the
recording.<span> </span>There was a loud crash,
somebody throwing something, I guess, then more shouting, -it, -uck, -unt.<span> </span>The only times I’d heard voices so angry
there’d been a hardcore band’s guitars backing them up.<span> </span>This was post-Slipknot rage. <span> </span>Despite Eddie trying to mold it into one,
this was no performance, it was just dangerous conflict, real hate that could
go anywhere.<span> </span>The responsible thing to do
was call the police before it turned into tragedy.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>One look at Eddie’s
delighted grin showed me that nothing responsible would be happening.<span> </span>I wasn’t going to do it, either, and mess up
the tape for everybody.<span> </span>I know, I suck
at being a human being, and I’m paying for it, but that’s how it was.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Things got quiet and
then the voice-that-hadn’t-been-in-prison-(maybe) said, calmly and coldly, lust
loud enough to pick up on the recording if you jacked the levels, “You finish
that drink.<span> </span>Then you’ll pass out.<span> </span>And when you do I’ll get a knife.”<span> </span>Just flat, no blood pressure behind it, not
a threat, just the most convincing statement intending violence I ever heard.<span> </span>Even Eddie stopped his grinning.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You would do some
bitch shit like that, wouldn’t you?” Mr. Prison said.<span> </span>“You gonna be a bitch, well, then, I ought to
start fucking you.<span> </span>Tell you what,
bitch.<span> </span>I pass out?<span> </span>You do what you gone do.<span> </span>You pass out first, you’ll wake up tied to
the bed and your name’ll be Charlene.<span>
</span>And my name’ll be my name and you’ll be yelling it ‘cuz that’s what I
like.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>This prompted more
yelling and Eddie was back to laughing again, but I was done.<span> </span>I went off to my room and I’ve never even
heard the recording of the rest of that fight, even though Eddie assures me it
was “hilarious.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 3.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span>·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-language-override: normal; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>*<span>
</span>* </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Mr. Prison’s name, we figured out, was Randy.<span> </span>Mr. Knife-You-In-Your-Sleep was Glenn.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Eddie scoured pawn
shops until he found a pretty good professional tape deck, a reel-to-reel
four-track job like they’d record live bands with back in the good ol’
days.<span> </span>It came with some
serious-business-looking microphones.<span> </span>It
was Eddie’s new toy to help him play with his other new toy, Randy and Glenn.<span> </span>Now that he’d sunk money into recording them,
he felt like he owned them.<span> </span>It had been
a dead-born idea to expect a guy who puts his own most intimate moments on
YouPorn to respect anyone else’s privacy, especially if cash or attention was
on the table.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Randy and Glenn were
accommodating.<span> </span>Almost as soon as Eddie
set up his rig they started another fight.<span>
</span>This one was about mayonnaise, and even I thought that was funny.<span> </span>They were always ready to kill each other
over anything.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Hey, Randy.<span> </span>Randy.<span>
</span>Did you eat up all the mayonnaise?”<span>
</span>Glenn asked.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I don’t know.<span> </span>I hope I did, though,” said Randy.<span> </span>“That’d be awesome, <i>all</i> the
mayonnaise.<span> </span>God, think of it.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You musta.<span> </span>Ain’t none left.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Aw.<span> </span>Guess you’ll have to use butter to lube up
your dildo, then, queer-hole.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“When you finish a
thing, you’re supposed to write it on the god-damn LIST!” Glen said, getting
loud now.<span> </span>The needles on Eddie’s new old
tape deck ticked on the last word.<span> </span>“I went
to the store today and I would have bought more mayonnaise and there’s have
been no problem.<span> </span>Now I’ve already been
and don’t wanna go again for a week and we’ve got no fucking mayonnaise!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Use butter.<span> </span>Or Vaseline,” Randy said, infuriatingly
lackadaisical.<span> </span>“Or just grit your teeth
and raw-dog yourself.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I am trying to make
a SANDWICH, shitbrick!”<span> </span>There was <span> </span>temper-tantrum clomping, probably Glenn
pounding the empty plastic jar on something.<span>
</span>“IIIIIIIIIII… AMMMMMM…. TRYINNNNNG!”<span>
</span>He paused, then.<span> </span>“TO… MAKE… A… <i>SANDWIIIIICH!”</i><span> </span>Tick-tick-ticktick.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“A shitbrick
sandwich, got ya,” Randy said, calm enough to barely register.<span> </span>“And poke a dildo in your ass.<span> </span>Use butter.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“<i>I HATE YOU!”</i><span> </span>Glenn yelled.<span>
</span>He could have yelled “happy birthday” and the tone would still have made
the hate abundantly clear. <span> </span>God.<span> </span>“You can’t even… all you have to do, it’s not
much to ask, all you have to do is put things on the list!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Well, guess I
forgot, sorry.”<span> </span>Even through the wall
he didn’t sound sorry.<span> </span>He sounded
pleased.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Well, you can go to
the store, right now, and buy the mayonnaise your damn dumb self.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Glenn.<span> </span>Glenn… honeychile,” Randy laughed.<span> </span>“Glenn, I just took, like, three of those
blue things from Johnny Ray.”<span> </span>Randy
laughed.<span> </span>“I ain’t goin’ nowhere for the
next sixteen hours or so but Alpha Centauri.<span>
</span>Alfalfa Centuar-ity.<span> </span>Twentieth
Century Fox.<span> </span>Whoo-hoo-hoo-wooooo.<span> </span>Widescreen Technicolor spacefuck.<span> </span>Me, there, soon.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“The hell!<span> </span>I’m trying to make a sandwich!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Drop a couple of
these blues, you won’t care about no sandwich or what-not.<span> </span>You won’t know what a sandwich is
anymore.<span> </span>Take one, they’re
anti-bitch-ass pills and you need ‘em.<span>
</span>Take, hell, take like fourteen, never come back.”<span> </span>He laughed.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Fuck you, I hate
you, I hate you and I hate you, you are a nothing.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Woo-woo, I am the
nothing!” Randy shouted, delighted.<span>
</span>“Hey.<span> </span>Hey, you mad, bro?”<span> </span>He laughed.<span>
</span>“We cross?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Keep laughing,”
Glenn said.<span> </span>“Go on, keep laughing. I’ll
make you a wider mouth to laugh with.<span>
</span>All the way back to your ears, ha ha HA!<span> </span>Wanna be a muppet?”<span> </span>There was a clatter; I guess Glenn threw a
beer can.<span> </span>“Let you laugh out of your
neck.<span> </span>How about that?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Hey… you mad?”<span> </span>Randy laughed.<span> </span>“I don’t know, you act all mad. You seem mad
to me.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Fuck you.<span> </span>Go on, trip out, go on.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Ain’t gotta tell
me, I got no choice.<span> </span>You take the blue
things, you GONE trip.<span> </span>Take you
some.<span> </span>Here.<span> </span>I got plenty.<span>
</span>I sold them college squirt-offs most of it, but I saved plenty
back.<span> </span>So many I can waste a few on you.<span> </span>So here you go.<span> </span>Be a sport.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Naw.<span> </span>You just trip.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I am, I am,” Randy
muttered.<span> </span>“Oh, I am, don’t you worry,
don’t you fret.<span> </span>Too late now.<span> </span>Really, you mad, though?<span> </span>Don’t be mad.<span>
</span>No sense a’tall being mad at me.<span>
</span>In ten minutes or so I’m gonna be a total stranger.<span> </span>Dude you’re mad at… ain’t home.<span> </span>Dave’s not home, man!”<span> </span>He laughed.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Things went quiet
for maybe half an hour, then Randy started screaming, and Glenn started
laughing like a lunatic.<span> </span>I thought
murder was happening, but all Eddie did was start his tape again.<span> </span>Laughing-and-screaming went on for a while
and I had to figure no violence was going on, and Glenn was doing spooky stuff
to set the drugged-out Randy on a bad trip.<span>
</span>God, who’d do hallucinogens in the company of either of these mean-spirited
psychopaths?<span> </span>It was unthinkable.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Randy yelped, crazy
shrieks of desperate panic, and Glenn laughed so hard he was wheezing.<span> </span>Any sadist laughing that hard at my expense
would be pure uncut nightmare.<span> </span>I’d never
even seen Randy and he still scared me, but I couldn’t help feeling sympathy
for him.<span> </span>Whatever he was experiencing on
the other side of that wall, in his blue-things-from-Johnny-Ray dimension,
sounded worse than anything most people would ever live through. <span> </span>And the degree to which it amused Glenn was
very disturbing.<span> </span>He was putting his
friend through hell for forgetting to put something on a shopping list.<span> </span>Jesus.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Eddie wasn’t much
better.<span> </span>Smiling like a creep pulling
wings off flies, he leaned toward me and whispered, “I would love to see what
the hell Glenn is doing!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span><i>Yeah, you would,
asshole, you really would</i>, I thought, wondering if Eddie was really any
better than our degenerate neighbors.<span>
</span>Randy’s screaming ticked the needles on the tape deck like flies trying
to escape a jar, and Eddie had to be insane if he thought anyone would find
this funny.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 3.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span>·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-language-override: normal; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>*<span>
</span>*</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">But they did.<span> </span>That made it even worse.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Samantha,
to her credit, didn’t find “Randy’s Bad Trip,” as Eddie named the recording,
amusing.<span> </span>That gave me back some of my
faith in humanity.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Then
thousands of people on YouTube took it away again, took it away, pushed it off
a cliff, and threw their shit after it.<span>
</span>I hate people, I really do.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Too
impatient to wait for his friend Pagan to finish animating the first couple of
recordings, Eddie patched together some psychedelic effects from some 60’s
druggie horror movies and uploaded “Randy’s Bad Trip” to YouTube.<span> </span>Within a week it was doing six-figure views
and people were “LOL”ing all over the comments section with heartless joy,
guessing at what Glenn had done to fucked-up blue-thinged Randy, everything
from a rat down his pants to a dick in his face.<span> </span>It seemed to bring out the worst in everyone,
and considering the number of commenters saying “I bet he won’t forget the mayo
again, LOL!” they were all on the idiotic side of things.<span> </span>The spelling was head-injury quality on most
of it, and the rest nonsensical 4-Chan conformo-slang, “Based,” all that
lameoid wanna-belong-to-the-tribe shit.<span>
</span>It made you want to burn the world down, and I hoped that getting a look
at the kind of morons he was appealing to would discourage Eddie.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Eddie,
however, never gets discouraged by attention, regardless of the source.<span> </span>He was delighted.<span> </span>It was like he’d won the lottery.<span> </span>No, more like he’d struck oil;<span> </span>a lottery you win and it’s done.<span> </span>Glenn and Randy, though, were a natural
resource to keep exploiting.<span> </span>Pump, pump,
pump, drill, baby, drill.<span> </span>Now there was
an audience to feed, and Eddie, Eddie was all giggling ill-will.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>When
the animation was finished on the other recordings and posted later in the
week, it only got worse.<span> </span>The YouTube
hits went way up, even though I thought Pagan’s animated parts weren’t much of
anything; he’s good at technology but hasn’t got much sense of humor or
imagination, and thinks memes are “witchcraft.”<span>
</span>Pagan <i>brags</i> that he has Asperger’s, even though Eddie thinks he
fakes it.<span> </span>Regardless, Eddie felt like
the next Walt-frickin’-Disney and became more obsessed with the
Glenn-And-Randy-Show than ever.<span> </span>He lost
sleep watching his YouTube hits climb.<span>
</span>Probably courted carpal tunnel from hitting refresh.<span> </span>He started multiple Twitter accounts to post
links and obsessed over his “likes.” </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>For
their part, Glenn and Randy didn’t cooperate that much that week.<span> </span>There was only one argument loud enough to
hear through the wall and it was brief and of the fuck-me?-no-fuck-YOU variety,
nothing quotable or even interesting.<span>
</span>It’s a little hard to describe on paper, but prime Glenn and Randy
fights aren’t just funny lines, but also include an element of terror.<span> </span>You feel like things could escalate to
violence at any second, and all it will take is the wrong word being said, the
wrong look to trip a trigger, and then, blood.<span>
</span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Randy,
at least, had done some prison time, apparently for something violent, and
Glenn’s mind always seemd to come back to murderous fantasies.<span> </span>And a whole lot of booze and drugs were
laying a lot of black ice on the highway these two trucks-with-bad-brakes were
speeding down.<span> </span>Some scary shit seemed
sure to happen, you just couldn’t be sure if this time was going to be <i>the</i>
time.<span> </span>And, in some sick way it’d take a
psychologist to unknot, that makes it funnier.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I’m
not sure Eddie was bright enough to pick up on that undercurrent.<span> </span>Of if he was a good enough person to
care.<span> </span>All it did was excite him, think
of it through the view of his sick audience, and made him giggle at their rage
and misery.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Maybe
he even hoped for violence.<span> </span>Maybe the
kinds of people who viewed Glenn and Randy as comedy would view the death of
one or the other as just the big boffo punch line to the whole joke, the
slapstick punchline to the skit.<span> </span>It <i>was</i>
hard to feel much sympathy for either of the toxic creeps.<span> </span>There was no one to side with there.<span> </span>They were both miserable and part of the
humor – or at least the <i>satisfaction</i> – was that they were both assholes
who probably rated no better than their shit lives.<span> </span>They’d probably be happier apart, but that
likely meant they’d each find a victim.<span>
</span>There were no real victims in their current living arrangement;<span> </span>they deserved each other.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>God,
I hoped Eddie and I didn’t.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 3.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span>·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-language-override: normal; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>*<span>
</span>*</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> There was a lot of cross-talk on the tape and then Glenn shouting,
“…better hope she’s got other pills besides the kind you sold her is all</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> I’m saying, ‘cuz the two of you would
make some ugly-ass, ass-ugly babies.”</span></span><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“How
you know?<span> </span>You ain’t even seen her,”
Randy said.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Don’t
need to.<span> </span>If you’re involved in the
engenderment process…”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Hooray,
it’s Mr. Dictionary, come to pay us a visit with his fancy words!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“…in
the engenderment process…”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“He done got at the
big-word store!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span>
</span><span> </span>“… then the babies
are gonna be ugly as botoxed sin.<span> </span>Like
crapping in cake mix, whatever else is in there, still nobody’s gonna want a
bite.<span> </span>Good god.<span> </span>Even if the girl looks like Farrah
Fawcett-Majors, which she don’t or she wouldn’t have nothin’ to do with a
shoe-scraping like you, them babies would come out looking like the business
part of somebody’s butt.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Randy
said something low and unintelligible.<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Glenn
interrupted him with “Hell, Farrah Fawcett-Majors has been dead a long time
now, maybe she <i>does</i> look like her <i>now</i>.<span> </span>Bet she does.<span>
</span>And smells half as nice.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Farrah
was what, bicentennial?<span> </span>You need to
update your list of pretty girls to compare to.<span>
</span>‘Boy, that Clara Bow was some fine piece!<span> </span>Marlene Dietrich!’<span> </span>Don’t fart no dust on me, Groucho<span> </span>You been hangin’ out with Moses, I bet.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I’m
two years older than you.<span> </span><i>Two</i>.<span> </span>So you can take Moses and put him in your
hat, and sit on him.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“And
don’t even know how a hat works, either.<span>
</span>Jesus.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Works
that way for you because you don’t know your head from your ass, no how.<span> </span>Which nobody can blame you for since the
faces and breath are the same.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Well,
anyhow, she’s coming over tomorrow night and you are gonna be polite or you’re
gonna be bleeding real bad, you understand me?<span>
</span>Real bad.<span> </span>You wanna see some red
lights all over, just you act rude.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Ah,
fuck you, I’m always polite,” Glenn said, and then there was a huge BRONK! fart
noise that I <i>hoped</i> he’d done with his mouth, but if he did, boy, he sure
was talented at it.<span> </span>Just hearing it
made me want to change <i>my</i> pants.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Well,
you’re gonna be tomorrow night, or blood.<span>
</span>Blood <i>everywhere.</i>”<span> </span>Randy
hissed the last word and I got a chill.<span>
</span>Even though it was standard Glenn/Randy banter I felt sure Randy was
capable of it, almost hoping for an excuse.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah,
yeah.<span> </span>Don’t worry, I’ll be nice to your
old ugly girl.<span> </span>Just point me out which
end I’m supposed to talk to, so I’ll know.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Eddie
shut off the tape, grinning like he’d hit a Lotto number.<span> </span>“Randy’s got a <i>girrrrlll-frieeeend!!”</i>
he sang, shaking gleeful fists.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 3.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span>·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-language-override: normal; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>*<span>
</span>*</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> The next night Eddie staked out the hallway, determined that he was going
to get a look at this girl and film her with his phone.<span> </span>I warned<span> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">him to back off from meddling in these
people’s miserable-enough-already lives, but that was like spitting at a
housefire.<span> </span>Eddie would not be deterred
from being a turd.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He
was about as inconspicuous as Richard Spencer at a bar mitzvah, loitering in
the hall half the afternoon with his phone held to his head like he was having
some trouble getting a signal in the apartment.<span>
</span>He collected three false-alarm snippets of other neighbors minding their
own business, entering their own apartments.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>But,
finally, persistence paid off.<span> </span>And if
you were looking for the kind of curdled awfulness that Eddie was looking for,
Randy’s girlfriend – her name turned out to be Tammy, which was damn near
perfect for Eddie’s purposes – was central casting.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Tammy
dressed like she had no clue how ugly she was.<span>
</span>I found it hard to believe anybody in the company she kept hadn’t told
her, so I guess she didn’t believe them.<span>
</span>Or maybe their standards were super-low, or it was just really dark
under the rocks where they congregated.<span>
</span>Her hair wasn’t just teased, it was bullied, and had been through enough
peroxide to outfit a M*A*S*H unit.<span> </span>She
didn’t have shoe enough to stub out a cigarette with, and her body looked like
a blind man had picked out clothes from a K-Mart fire sale and stuffed them
with pudding.<span> </span>Nothing was the right
size, all tight as the skin on a sausage, with her top riding up and spilling
bare pale moley flesh like a cracked-open tube of chocolate chip cookie
dough.<span> </span>And she didn’t let the fact that
she didn’t even seem to have lips stop her from wearing way too much lipstick,
in a color usually limited to Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. <span> </span>She appeared to be
takes-a-lotta-pills-and-smokes-three-packs-a-day years old.<span> </span>She looked like somebody’s comedy wrestling
gimmick.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>And
her looks were the best thing about her.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I
wondered if she knew she was being recorded, because she was more than
accommodating with the volume.<span> </span>If she
said <i>anything</i> that wasn’t stupid I missed it…and you <i>couldn’t</i>
miss it, no more than you could miss an air-raid siren crammed in your ear like
a Bluetooth.<span> </span>Jesus fuck.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Eddie
was delighted.<span> </span>He also got footage of
Randy, who stepped out in the hall like a gentleman to escort her in.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>After
seeing Randy I really wanted this escapade to stop.<span> </span>He was around six-two and looked like he’d
done nothing in prison but lift weights… and it was a long stretch.<span> </span>His shoulders crowded out his neck.<span> </span>His face was all squat and squinty and
cat-like, hard enough to strike a match on, with a ratty Fu Manchu
mustache.<span> </span>Somebody’d really dug a groove
in his forehead with something sometime, leaving a scar that pulled in
shadow.<span> </span>His hair was gray-streaked black
and hung limp and greasy to his shoulders.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Randy
would have to settle for nightmare-fuel like Tammy because any woman with any
other options at all would have found him terrifying.<span> </span>There was Sasquatch DNA in there
somewhere.<span> </span>I still hadn’t seen Glenn but
I knew if he was bad-enough-ass to even play with the idea of arguing with this
monster then he wasn’t going to be someone I wanted any part of, either.<span> </span>Jesus Christ, if Eddie was sane at all, the
sight of Randy would shut down the Glenn ‘n’ Randy YouTube Funtime Hour right
goddamn then, right goddamn there.<span> </span>Shut
it down and pull the re-runs.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Eddie,
alas, was not sane.<span> </span>“We’re never going
to get caught,” he’d argue.<span> </span>“You think
those people even use the Internet?<span> </span>Come
on.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I
argued that Randy had learned about Clara Bow somewhere, but Eddie never
listens to shit, he just did more of that waving-off thing he does.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>The
audio of this session started with an obnoxiously loud screech of “How <i>YEW?!”</i>
from Tammy that Eddie would imitate at least once an hour for the next week and
which I feared would become a permanent thing.<span>
</span>You’ll be surprised at how quickly a “how <i>YEW?!”</i> can wear out its
welcome when one isn’t dead-set on finding every damned thing hilarious.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Fine,
and how’s yourself?” Glenn said in a way I found actually rather gentlemanly,
but Eddie thought very mockable.<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Then
there were at least ten tedious minutes of where-I’m-from, where-you’re-from
(with far too many highway numbers and directions, as if they were actually
going to drive there) and do-you-know-so-and-so’s that even Eddie couldn’t
pretend was any funnier than crib death.<span>
</span>Eddie paced and frowned like a director whose actors were forgetting
their script on opening night. <span> </span>His
little puppets were being boring normal people and it was nearly throwing him
into a panic.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Randy
took great pride in having made spaghetti.<span>
</span>All he’d done was brown ground beef, add a jar of sauce (“the good Paul
Newman kind”), and boil the spaghetti, but apparently this was quite a feat of
“cooking” since most of his meals came from cans or frozen dinners.<span> </span>“Ah eat frozen dinners, but Ah’m <i>fancy</i>
about it!”<span> </span>Tammy yawped.<span> </span>“Ah take them out of the tray and put them on
a plate so it’s <i>nice!”</i></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Well
law-dee-dah at <i>you!”</i> Randy teased, and she cackled, and Eddie snorted
like he’d finally struck gold.<span> </span>I rolled
my eyes; none of it was that funny, and the eavesdropping on this pitiful
attempt at the most meager of happiness just seemed mean.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Ooo,
and you got the cheese,” Tammy said.<span>
</span>“Par-<i>mee</i>-zi-an.<span> </span>Ah love
cheese on spaghetti!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I
like cheese on about anything but birthday cake,” Glenn said, which Tammy
seemed to find very witty, and which Eddie found hilarious because it wasn’t.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Cheesecake!”<span> </span>Tammy said.<span>
</span>“Ah don’t think that’s really cheese.<span>
</span>Cream cheese.<span> </span>That ain’t
cheese.<span> </span>More like puddin’.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Now,
pudding I’ll put on birthday cake,” Glenn said, and there was a bunch of
crosstalk and they may have gone into another room because it wasn’t loud
enough to hear them for a few minutes.<span>
</span>They were remarkably loud people and we had terrifyingly thin walls but
Eddie – ever since our burden had turned into a marketable commodity – was
vexed by how much we missed of this noise-that-had-formerly-been-an-annoyance-to-us.<span> </span>He’d have bugged their house if he could
have, and in fact planned ways to do it as his obsession grew.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>When
they became audible again they were discussing some racist shit I’m not even
going to repeat; let’s just say that nobody in Eddie’s little fishbowl was
anyone you’d want to have to claim as a relative.<span> </span>Eddie, who wanted them detestable so there’d
be less guilt involved in laughing at them, treated it as if he’d struck more
gold.<span> </span>Tammy revealed that her “Christmas
job at the WalMart” (Eddie thought the “the” was just funny as a grandmama’s
poot and quoted it from then on) put her in contact with a bunch of non-whites
and “foreigners” and that was “almost enough to make me hate Christmas if the
Lord’ll forgimme.”<span> </span>Randy talked about a
construction job and how he hated “people who don’t hate ‘em” almost as bad as
he hated ‘em.<span> </span>How this shit made Eddie
giggle I don’t know; I wanted a shower, and another state to live in, and a rain
of nukes dropped on this one.<span> </span>Strangely,
Randy was more open-minded about “fags,” at least for a guy who used the word
“fag.”<span> </span>Maybe it was from interacting
with gays in prison.<span> </span>Tammy, however, had
no tolerance for them and said some awful shit, a lot of which she claimed were
quotes from the Bible.<span> </span>They were not; I
checked.<span> </span>She was just co-signing God to
her own narrow-mindedness to make it not be a sin.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>In
any case, they were a group who seemed happiest talking about what they hated,
and I could imagine Eddie writing the YouTube comments in his head.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Dinner
was served and Tammy made a big deal about the spaghetti and Glenn was on his
best behavior and it was all so boring, so mundane that I almost laughed
watching Eddie bounce in his seat and gnaw his lip listening to it, waiting for
the next “You are UNSUITABLE!” sound bite to arrive.<span> </span>It never did.<span>
</span>Sometimes even assholes just have a pleasant boring evening and we
wasted around two hours straining to hear it.<span>
</span>After dinner they argued over sports but it wasn’t heated and generated
no interesting lines.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>It
was kind of fun seeing Eddie so bummed out, even though I wasted a night, too.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 3.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span>·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-language-override: normal; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>*<span>
</span>*</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> “I am going to <i>separate</i> you!”<span>
</span>Randy howled.<span> </span>“They are going to
find you dead in every room of this house!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Big
talk,” Glenn said, although he sounded scared.<span>
</span>It’d be impossible not to be.<span>
</span>“Big fuckin’ ta….”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You
better <i>like</i> talk!”<span> </span>Randy yelled
over him.<span> </span>“Yo’ ass better <i>love</i>
you some talk, because when I stop talkin’ I’m gone start cutting and you <i>know</i>
what I can do!<span> </span>Don’tcha?<span> </span>You remember Lawford, right?<span> </span>Remember him?<span>
</span>Yeaaaah-heah, I <i>bet</i> you remember him!<span> </span>I bet you don’t sleep so good from
remembering him! <span> </span>And Gordie?<span> </span>What I done to his eye? And you piss me off
any better than you have been and I’ll make <i>you</i> look like Lawford looks
like Cinderella!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Glenn,
smarter than we gave him credit for, went silent.<span> </span>I guess he did remember Lawford and Gordie,
whoever they were, and whatever Randy had done to them.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I’ll
gut you and use you for a canoe,” Randy rumbled, breaking something.<span> </span>“I’ll need one because there’ll be a river of
<i>blood!”</i></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>The
fight, as well as I could piece it together, was over the TV listings from
Sunday’s newspaper.<span> </span>Randy thought Glenn
had thrown them out, even though Randy bought the paper “pacifically” for them,
and Glenn claimed drunken-drug-ass Randy had misplaced them somewhere “or wiped
your ass with ‘em for all I know, but probably not since you never learned such
things as ass-wiping.”<span> </span>In any case, it
was a <i>totally</i><span> reasonable thing to plot murder over if you were Randy, torqued on
whatever Randy had swallowed or snorted.</span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Eddie wasn’t even home, but I
had started the recording for him, hating myself for doing it.<span> </span>Now I was thinking it might be something to
show to the cops.<span> </span>I was thinking of
calling them, but if they didn’t take these guys away permanently then they’d
know who called the law on them and Randy’d be over here next.<span> </span>I didn’t want to blip that guy’s radar.<span> </span>And I’m not proud of it but I almost hoped
he’d go ahead and cut Glenn up so he could be safely sent to prison.<span> </span>It was like living next to a bomb, regardless
of how excited Eddie was about his YouTube hits.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I ain’t gotta listen to this
shit,” Glenn said.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You gotta listen to whatever I
say you’ll listen to.<span> </span>Shit, you’re lucky
I ain’t fuckin’ you.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Fuck </span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">yourself</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;">,”<span> </span>Glenn
said, and the door to their apartment slammed.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Randy yelled a bunch of stuff
and I peeked out the window to the street and got my first look at Glenn.<span> </span>He was a short fire-plug of a guy, short
legs, big square hands, stout but solid.<span>
</span>He’d gone bald without accepting it, and the hair on the sides of his
head was rather bushy, while what little was on top<span> </span>hung over him like smog.<span> </span>His shoulders were broad and his head was
squarish like a cinderblock and stuck forward like a semi-hunchback, and he had
a bit of a limp that made him sway to and fro while he walked.<span> </span>His face reminded me of a catcher’s mitt,
battered and scarred but tough.<span> </span>Punching
it would do nothing.<span> </span>He looked like a
guy who you’d not want to get his hands on you. </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span></span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">Yep, there goes Glenn</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;">, I
thought, </span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">that fits</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;">.<span>
</span>He was scowling so hard it was probably carving grooves on his skull.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Kill that bitch,” Randy was
chanting.<span> </span>“Kill that bitch kill that
bitch KILL THAT BITCH!”<span> </span>He was so mad I
could hear him breathing.<span> </span>The wall
between us felt about as much of a safe barrier against his rage as a curtain
would.<span> </span>Sheetrock ain’t more than fog to
a real psychopath gone cranked up.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>After a while he went quiet, so
I stopped the tape.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 3.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span>·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-language-override: normal; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>*<span> </span>*</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> When Glenn came back, about four hours later,
carrying a case of booze, all the animosity was forgotten and he and Randy were
laughing<span> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">about
something.<span> </span>I don’t know if the booze was
intended as a peace offering or counted as routine groceries, but it settled
Randy down.<span> </span>Or maybe he’d just decided
it was no fun to be mad.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Out of nowhere he announced,
“Tammy’s got a tight pussy.<span> </span>You’d think
she wouldn’t, but she does.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Aw hell no, you gotta be
joking,” Glenn said.<span> </span>“She’s like a
truckstop… a, what, lot lizard.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Randy laughed hard.<span> </span>“I </span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">know!<span>
</span></span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;">But, she </span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">does!</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Hard to push in there more’n a dozen times
before ya spout.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Cripes, she’s had, what, six
kids?<span> </span>She kept naming ‘em…”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Two,” Randy said.<span> </span>“You probably got misconbobulated with all
them dogs and cats she won’t never shut up about.<span> </span>She only had two kids.<span> </span>A boy up in Pelican Bay, and she had a girl
died when she was a baby.<span> </span>Went toxic or
something.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Went toxic?<span> </span>How do you go toxic?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Hell, I don’t know, some baby
disease they get, some infection.<span> </span>I
don’t ask her about it because it’s a sad thing.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Hell, I guess.<span> </span>My momma’s be pretty bummed out if I hauled
off and went toxic.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>They laughed at that.<span> </span>Eddie would, too, I was sure.<span> </span>Eddie was more like them than he’d want to
admit, all the nastiness and trash but without the menace.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“What’s the boy in Pelican Bay
for?”<span> </span>Glenn asked.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Aw, some robbery shit went
wrong, shot a couple people.<span> </span>They didden
even die but he got a shit lawyer and a hardass judge, caught the whole book,
just like if they had died.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Well, they might still.<span> </span>They might go toxic!”<span> </span>More laughing.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“We ought not laugh about that,
you know.<span> </span>It’s sad,” Randy finally said.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah.<span> </span>I just think of a baby going bad, like a
peach with a<span> </span>bad spot on it.<span> </span>Can’t help it, that’s funny shit.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I reckon.<span> </span>Just don’t say nothin’ about it to Tammy,
though.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Aw, I ain’t.<span> </span>I ain’t no asshole.”<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Randy and I both snorted at
that.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Glenn continued.<span> </span>“Anyhow, Tammy’s alright.<span> </span>‘Bout pretty as a mud fence, but I wouldn’t
wanna hurt her feelings none.<span> </span>Especially
not now that I know… you know.” </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Hey, it’s tight for </span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">me</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;">.<span> </span>For you it might be throwin’ a
hot dog down a hallway.”<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Fuck you,” Glenn said, but
laughing.<span> </span>“Anyhow, you can have it.” </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah, I can.<span> </span>Yep!”<span>
</span>Didn’t take much to make Randy smug.<span>
</span>“And on that note, think you could go someplace Saturday, so I could
bring her here?<span> </span>I’d appreciate ya.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Aw, shit, now.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Come on, now, just ‘til
midnight or so.<span> </span>Go see a couple movies
or something.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Hell, I oughtta be able to find
something better than a movie to get into.<span>
</span>Hell.<span> </span>Okay, but you owe me.<span> </span>Mark it down.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“It’s marked, it is marked.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Turns out Eddie, no respecter of
privacy, marked it, too.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 3.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span>·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-language-override: normal; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>*<span> </span>*</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> I left pretty soon after it started.<span> </span>No way was I going to listen to Randy and
Tammy clapping uglies or watch Eddie giggle while they did it.<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He got a
whole lot of YouTube hits off of “Randy Gets Him Some!” but it was over the
line for me.<span> </span>I did go to the
movies.<span> </span>I didn’t listen to the tape,
either, other than bits that were forced on me.<span>
</span>They were off in a bedroom so it was almost too faint to hear, other
than Tammy calling out for God and Jesus and a whole host of saints at one
point, and Eddie found that funny as hell.<span>
</span>It wasn’t.<span> </span>It’s just a thing
people do and I didn’t see much comedy in it.<span>
</span>It meant Randy was a good lay, if anything.<span> </span>Samantha hadn’t hollered like that for Eddie
when they made their porno, and she </span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">knew</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;"> she was on camera.<span> </span>Probably.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Randy and Glenn were okay to
laugh at when their interactions were forced on us, when they had no concern
for bothering the neighbors, but when they were trying to be private, I said to
let ‘em.<span> </span>But they were just Eddie’s lab
rats now.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>And you know what you do with
lab rats.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Eddie started messing with them
about a week later.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He came up with all kinds of
dodgy terms for what he did but what it is is breaking and entering.<span> </span>Yeah, using a “bump key” you learned about on
the internet technically doesn’t “break” anything, but come on, man, it’s a
semantical difference at best.<span> </span>Eddie
went in their damn apartment without permission.<span> </span>Technically he didn’t steal anything, just
re-arranged some stuff, but it amounts to criminal activity.<span> </span>Eddie’s attempt to label it “creepy-crawling”
after what the Manson family used to do only made it worse if you ask me.<span> </span>Manson’s a bad go-to for prettying up a
thing.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I don’t know what all Eddie did,
but I heard the resulting arguments.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You losin’ your damn mind or
something?”<span> </span>Randy asked.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“What?”<span> </span>Glenn.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You done put your damn shoes in
the freezer.<span> </span>Right on top of the
hamburger meat, too, which is real hygenious.”<span>
</span>(Eddie thought this was “high-genius” which is an instance where Randy seemed
more intelligent than the guy mocking him).<span>
</span>“What is that, something dumbshits are doing now?<span> </span>The new thing among dumbshit culture.<span> </span>‘I’m gone put my shoes in the freezer, hey
now, that’d be smart.<span> </span>Ever’body will
admire me, yeah boy.’<span> </span>Shit.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I don’t know what’n hell you
talkin’ ‘bout.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Scamper over and take you a
look.”<span> </span>I guess Glenn didn’t scamper
because Randy said, “I said scamper, damn ya!”<span>
</span>(Eddie quoted that for days).</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“What you doing putting my shoes
in the damn freezer for?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I didn’t put ‘em there.<span> </span>Last thing I’m out for is TV dinners that
taste like your rot-ass feet.<span> </span>You put
‘em there.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You’re crazy.<span> </span>I didn’t put them there.<span> </span>I don’t want frozen shoes.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You don’t want anybody to </span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">know</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;"> you want frozen shoes.”<span> </span>There
was a racket that was probably Randy tossing all the ice into the sink.<span> </span>Hygenious.<span>
</span>“You trying to soothe your bunions or something?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I didn’t put ‘em there, I’m
telling you.”<span> </span>Glenn sounded madder than
you’d figure.<span> </span>“You must’ve put ‘em in
there when you was high.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Son, they don’t </span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">make</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;"> high high enough to go playin’ around with no shoes of yours.<span> </span>I don’t remember everything I mighta done
when I come back from Pillsburg, but I know I didn’t do no shit like that.<span> </span>Besides, I ain’t tripped since I bought that
hamburger.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Well, I didn’t do it, for sure
and no shit.<span> </span>Maybe Tammy.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Tammy ain’t been over since I
bought that hamburger, either.<span> </span>Also, she
ain’t crazy looneytoons.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Well, we got goddamn ghosts,
then, because I didn’t put my shoes in the fuckin’ freezer,<span> </span>I wouldn’t put ‘em in there because I don’t </span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">want</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;"> ‘em in there!<span> </span>Might ruin ‘em.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Them’s already rurnt.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Well, they kinda is, but I
ain’t put ‘em in there, whatever!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You sure get mad when you get
caught being a weird-ass.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I… DID… NOT… </span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">DO</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;">… </span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">IT!</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;">”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Glenn apparently threw something
because there was a bunch of shouting about don’t-be-throwing-stuff, I’ll-snatch-a-bone-out-of-you-and-whup-you-with-it,
lots of scary-ass Eddie-pleasing stuff that I really hated to hear because it
meant he’d hit pay dirt and was going to keep lab-rattin’ these
psychotics.<span> </span>Anybody who wasn’t laughing
too hard could see trouble coming.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 3.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span>·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-language-override: normal; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>*<span> </span>*</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> Putting a teddy bear (or as Glenn called it to
Eddie’s delight, a “titty-bear”) in Randy’s bed was just dumb.<span> </span>It was a dead giveaway that</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> outside
forces were messing with them, because even Randy knew Glenn wouldn’t bother going
out and spending drug-booze-and-maybe-pussy money on a stuffed animal.<span> </span>Even Eddie figured out it’d been a
too-cute-by-half overreach and it was the first time I saw him looking a little
scared by what he was doing.<span> </span>I thought
maybe he’d quit.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>But Eddie drinks, too.<span> </span>And fear’s the first thing that drunk-Eddie
forgets.<span> </span>Eddie’s one of these guys who,
once his blood alcohol level gets around you-better-not-drive, starts thinking
MMA fighters really aren’t all that tough and that a bigger dude’s size advantage
is just a matter of him not having been kicked in the side of the knee
yet.<span> </span>A lot of get-your-ass-kicked faith,
that’s what beer gave Eddie.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Damn thing is, what started him
drinking was being nervous.<span> </span>Talk about
the wrong medicine for the ailment?<span>
</span>Yeah.<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>So he gets brave, and dumb, and
greedy, and he went in to do some more “pranking” of his lab rats.<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>And that’s how he eventually
learned that even career criminals who seemed as stupid and primitive as Randy
and Glenn had extensive, expert knowledge in the area of security cameras.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 3.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span>·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-language-override: normal; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>*<span> </span>*</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> Eddie wondered a little what they were doing
over there when he heard a drill going, but it made him curious instead of
suspicious, and</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> that was
his problem.<span> </span>I say all of that like it
means Eddie was super-stupid but I’ll admit I didn’t get too paranoid about it,
either.<span> </span>So maybe I’m stupid, too, but in
my defense I wasn’t breaking into some druggie ex-cons’ apartment, so the price
tag on me being stupid wasn’t nearly as high.<span>
</span>But I should have been more paranoid on Eddie’s behalf.<span> </span>Or on my own, since I lived with the dumb
bastard.<span> </span>Maybe I would have if I hadn’t
been getting so annoyed with him at the time.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I don’t know where Randy and
Glenn set the cameras up, I just know they did.<span>
</span>We’d dismissed them as dumbasses who’d never catch on and who we could
outwit if they did, but what can I say, monkey use tool.<span> </span>Must’ve hurt them to part with some
booze-and-dope money, but curiosity’s a demanding bitch.<span> </span>Let a “titty-bear” just show up in your house
and see if she doesn’t put the spurs on and mount you up.<span> </span>They knew they were getting fucked with and,
God only knows why, but guys like Glenn and Randy have their pride.<span> </span>Especially when breaking and entering was </span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">their</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;"> game.<span> </span>Eddie might as well have
been at a stoplight, revving his engine at Dale Earnhardt.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>It would’ve all been moot if
Eddie had just stayed the hell out of there, but there’s a reason he has a scar
for damn near every cut he’d ever gotten:<span>
</span>he picked at scabs.<span> </span>He </span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">had</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;"> to.<span> </span>He was one of those guys.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He went in to steal some of
Randy’s dirty underwear (briefs) and hide them under Glenn’s (boxers) bed in an
easy-to-find shoebox with a tube of Vaseline in it, framing Glenn as some sort
of sexual pervert with a thing for Randy, lighting the fuse of a
highly-implausible bomb that Eddie was sure was going to be </span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">hilarious</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;"> when it went off, and would provoke all kinds of
exploitable dialogue if it didn’t just trigger Randy to rape Glenn or maybe
cause a homicide.<span> </span>Eddie was willing to
gamble it, of course.<span> </span>Anything short of
murder would probably go viral.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>When that didn’t get a reaction
fast enough, Eddie broke in again to smear mayonnaise on the remote
control.<span> </span>Then he broke in again and
planted gay porn.<span> </span>Then again to take a shit
and leave the toilet unflushed.<span> </span>He may
have done more I don’t know about.<span> </span>Too
bad for him that bump-key thing worked as well as it did, since it made it all
too easy.<span> </span>Add learning how to do it to
the list of ways YouTube fucked him.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Eddie couldn’t figure out why
none of his provocations were getting a reaction.<span> </span>Not only were they never addressed, but Glenn
and Randy were getting along </span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">better</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;"> now,
getting along like guys with a common enemy.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Yeah.<span> </span>And we thought Glenn and Randy were the
stupid ones.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Eddie should have put it
together.<span> </span>I know it made me nervous, but
I wasn’t being listened to at that point.<span>
</span>I was a naysayer, bringing him down when he was down enough.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Then this other guy showed up,
and he really scared the hell out of me.<span>
</span>I don’t know why, and I don’t know what role he played in everything
that followed, although in retrospect I have my suspicions.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>We saw him in the parking lot,
where Glenn and Randy met him.<span> </span>He drove
a huge black pickup truck, brand new, everything black, black rims that looked
like gunmetal, everything.<span> </span>His name, I
made out, was Jojo.<span> </span>He was unusually
tall and emaciated like a suit of fancy dark clothes stuffed with
broomsticks.<span> </span>I don’t’ know if Jojo was
albino or just super-blonde but he had this very thin silvery towhead hair that
was cut in very high bangs in front and a mullet in the back, all so limp it
was slicked to his head like he’d just emerged from some swamp.<span> </span>His resting face was a sneer and keeping his
crooked teeth covered took effort.<span> </span>There
just wasn’t enough meat on his face; his cheekbones looked like they might
slice through.<span> </span>He wore tinted shooting
glasses and exuded creepiness like it’s radiation.<span> </span>Even his movements were slow,
lizard-slink.<span> </span>He looked like any time
you frisked him you were going to find a straight razor and what-else.<span> </span>Maybe some candy for the kids.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Even though Jojo probably
couldn’t lift more than sixty pounds and you could snap him across your knee,
he was somehow scarier than Randy, even.<span>
</span>Randy and Glenn certainly seemed awed by him, like they could slap him
around but if they did he’d summon an army of rats.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Jojo, you knew, was a guy with
connections to the Great Darkness.<span> </span>A
mover and shaker in the Land Of Horrible Stuff.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Randy and Glenn likely wouldn’t
bother dealing with anyone who wasn’t a criminal.<span> </span>They definitely wouldn’t defer to anyone who
wasn’t.<span> </span>And they walked around Jojo like
he was nitroglycerine.<span> </span>They looked
toward our apartment, making me cringe, then got into Jojo’s giant truck with
him and sat there an hour behind the black tinted glass.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Draw your own conclusions.<span> </span>I sure did.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Eddie, the idiot, didn’t.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 3.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span>·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-language-override: normal; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>*<span> </span>*</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> Can you imagine being grateful for a kidney
stone?<span> </span>Well, I am.<span> </span>I got a kidney stone that wouldn’t pass, and
nothing ever hurt me worse</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> and I’ll
never be more grateful for anything, because if I hadn’t had it I’d have been
at home that Thursday, when Glenn and Randy came and got Eddie.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>It was serious enough that I was
in the hospital overnight.<span> </span>When I got
home, the house was a wreck.<span> </span>There were
a few drops of blood on the floor of the kitchen and some more in the bedroom,
where I found a Magnum condom wrapper that I know wasn’t Eddie’s.<span> </span>I’d seen the YouPorn and it’d fit him like a
ball gown. <span> </span>I thought of Tammy hollering
for Jesus-God-Archangel-Gabriel, and the fear got so bad it felt like a punch.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>That apartment was thick with
bad feelings, a lot bigger than the little spots of blood and the condom
wrapper.<span> </span>It was as if the devil had just
been through and you’d just missed him, the echoes of his cloven hoofed steps
were still in the air.<span> </span>I wasn’t sure
what had happened there but I had strong suspicions, and they froze me, put me
in a vice.<span> </span>I had to get out of there, I
knew that much.<span> </span>I didn’t know where to
go but I had to be somewhere unguessable, immediately.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I quickly gathered up some
things.<span> </span>I’d taken almost nothing with me
to the hospital, had barely avoided going there in an ambulance to begin
with.<span> </span>It’s an odd thing nowdays, but I’m
not a big phone guy, I didn’t take it everywhere.<span> </span>It was in the bathroom drawer where I keep
it, and when I picked it up I noticed a missed call, from Eddie’s phone.<span> </span>I brought up the voicemail and then my terror
went into hyperspace.<span> </span>We’ve all been
scared, and you probably think you know fear, but that’s a pale shade to what
it can be.<span> </span>It’s like drinking a few
beers and thinking that now you have a pretty good idea what heroin’s probably
like.<span> </span>You don’t.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>What was on that phone was
heroin.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I recognized Randy’s voice
instantly, even though it was the first time I’d heard it unfiltered by
sheetrock. He was talking low and breathing hard.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Hey, sport.<span> </span>Chris Meachum, ain’t it?<span> </span>That’s who your roomie says you are and I
know he wouldn’t lie to us.<span> </span>Ol’ honest
Eddie.<span> </span>Howdy, neighbor!<span> </span>Heard any good jokes lately?<span> </span>Yeaaaaaah.<span>
</span>Sorry we missed you.<span> </span>Your
roommate can’t come to the phone right now.<span>
</span>He can’t talk so good.<span> </span>We kinda
put a charcoal briquette in his mouth, after we cooked that piece of his leg we
sliced off for his dinner.<span> </span>Don’t worry,
we’re letting him keep his tongue, because Tammy likes it.<span> </span>Pulled his teeth, though, ‘cuz Glenn and me
don’t.<span> </span>He was able to gum down that
eyeball we pulled out.<span> </span>Seems to wish
we’d pull out the other one so he didn’t have to see some other stuff we done.<span> </span>Just can’t please some people, I guess.<span> </span>Anyhow, don’t you worry about him none, we’ll
look after him real good, keep him alive for years and years.<span> </span>Gotta be able to keep making videos, ain’t
that how it works?<span> </span>Pretty soon maybe you
and him’ll be roomates again.<span> </span>Find that
girlfriend of his, too.<span> </span>Y’all could all
get back to making videos together.<span>
</span>That’ll be funny, right?<span> </span>He gave
us your email address, so check out the movie we made, it’s </span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">hilarious</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;">.<span> </span>Ha.<span> </span>Ha.<span>
</span>HAAAAAAHHHH!<span> </span>See you around,
buddy, see you </span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">arounnnnnnnnnd</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;">.”<span> </span> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>He went quiet and I could hear some squeals
of pain in the background before the call ended.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I could hear my heart beating in
the silence after that finished.<span> </span>I’m
pretty sure I could </span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">see</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;"> it, my pulse vibing in my
eyes.<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I needed to do several things
fast.<span> </span>One was get ahold of
Samantha.<span> </span>I didn’t know her phone
number.<span> </span>I liked her okay but we weren’t
really friends, she was just Eddie’s girlfriend and they hadn’t been a thing
but for a few months.<span> </span>Nobody puts up
with Eddie for more than a few months except, God help him, possibly Randy and
Glenn and Tammy.<span> </span>Samantha was in the
same danger I was.<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I also needed to get the cops on
this.<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>And I needed to get gone.<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I was fairly sure Randy and
Glenn wouldn’t be showing up, because they’d know the cops were looking for
them.<span> </span>But that Jojo guy.<span> </span>I was pretty sure that Jojo guy was able to
send out anybody, people we wouldn’t recognize, and they’d grab us up and take
us to where Glenn and Randy were.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Randy had said something about
my e-mail.<span> </span>I’d turn that over to the
cops immediately.<span> </span>I certainly wasn’t
going to watch it.<span> </span>I had a good idea of
what it’d consist of and that was something I never wanted to see.<span> </span>But I grabbed my laptop to give to the cops.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I knew what apartment complex
Samantha lived in but not the apartment number, so that was as good as not
knowing anything.<span> </span>So I’d see the police
first, let them sort that out.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>As I piled stuff in the car I
noticed a big black truck with tinted windows across the street.<span> </span>It wasn’t Jojo’s but I still felt instinctual
fear at the sight of it.<span> </span>And down just a
bit in the parking lot was an old Mustang with two guys in it.<span> </span>Both wore ball caps and sunglasses.<span> </span>One had big teeth that he was showing me, but
I don’t think he was smiling.<span> </span></span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">Warm weather for gloves</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;">, I thought, noticing his hands on
the wheel.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>A little ways over a guy and his
daughter were watching their dachshund piss and then kick grass over it.<span> </span>The fact that they were there as potential
witnesses was probably the only reason I was able to get into my car.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I threw my armload of stuff into
the passenger seat, locked the doors, and backed out.<span> </span>As I left the parking lot the black truck
fell in behind me and stayed with me until I turned into the police station’s
parking lot.<span> </span>Maybe that was a coincidence,
but I seriously fucking doubt it.<span> </span>I was
shaking so badly when I got there I could barely get out of the car.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>I stayed at the police station
for hours, sitting and waiting, because once they opened the video clip I’d
been e-mailed they called the FBI, knowing this was something too big for them.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>From the name and apartment
complex I gave them they figured out where Samantha lived.<span> </span>She wasn’t there, though, and her lock had
been busted by someone who didn’t give a damn about hiding their work.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Samantha was never my favorite
person but the idea of Randy and Glenn having her made me want to vomit.<span> </span>I cried about it some, and about Eddie, even
though I was also hating him.<span> </span>Even if
the creeps never caught me, my life was over, sure as if I were dead, all
because Eddie had to play his stupid games.<span>
</span>That Jojo sonofabitch, I was certain, had guys everywhere.<span> </span>He, like Eddie, wanted fame by recording people
and posting it on the ‘net, and he’d charge a lot per customer.<span> </span>The Feds told me Eddie was probably on his
way to Europe or Asia or somewhere, and Randy and Glenn, too.<span> </span>They’d recognized that some of what Eddie had
recorded and posted – mentions of selling “the blue things” to college kids,
things Randy’d done with a knife to “Lawford” and “Gordie”<span> </span>-- were enough to put them back in prison for
life.<span> </span>Both of them had long records for
all sorts of shit, a lot of it violent, and honestly, shouldn’t have been out.<span> </span>The FBI agent who talked to me said they were
suspected of involvement in far worse things than they’d been nabbed for, but
it couldn’t be proven.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Well, they’d sure have something
on them now.<span> </span>But they’d likely never
catch them.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Tammy “had problems,” the police
said, but apparently went with them for fun.<span>
</span>Or maybe she didn’t have a choice, either.<span> </span>Anyway, Eddie’s little YouTube adventure had
taken their domestic bliss, such as it was, away from them, too.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>We talked about witness
protection programs but I wasn’t really a “witness” and there wasn’t a lot they
could do for me.<span> </span>I didn’t get a lot of
sympathy from the cops or Feds, really;<span>
</span>I guess they didn’t buy it that the recordings were Eddie’s thing, not
mine.<span> </span>His recordings weren’t really
illegal (although going into their apartment was) but the authorities have
enough to deal with without people looking for trouble.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Samantha finally showed up
around 3 a.m.<span> </span>Or not “showed up,”
really – no one’s seen her since, but she sent me an e-mail saying that she’d
gotten the footage Randy and Glenn sent and she’d left town and was not going
to tell me where she was because if they caught me they’d get it out of
me.<span> </span>No one she knew was ever going to
hear from her again.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>And no one has.<span> </span>I hope somewhere she’s out there, alive and
as okay as she can be, which I know isn’t really okay because I’m not going to
be okay anymore, either.<span> </span>Not ever.<span> </span>You can’t sleep with this on you, you can’t
get comfortable.<span> </span>Nobody I know’s ever
going to see or hear from me again, either, because Jojo’s not a guy, Jojo’s an
organization.<span> </span>And you never can know who’s
in it, which is how and why it works.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Honestly, they probably don’t
even care anymore, probably aren’t even chasing us, but you can never be
sure.<span> </span>And if you’re wrong, you get what
Eddie got.<span> </span>Or, God help him, is still
getting.<span> </span>So I move a lot, change names a
lot, don’t dare to get anything permanent going.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Most of all I keep hoping Eddie’s
dead.<span> </span>According to the Feds, though, he
isn’t, because the videos keep coming out.<span>
</span>Eddie, you see, finally went viral.<span>
</span>When the story hit the national news,<span>
</span>people got fascinated. <span> </span>Hardly
anything on the web’s been viewed more times than Eddie’s recordings, now known
as The 312 Wisteria Park Tapes, after Randy and Glenn’s apartment number.<span> </span>Now, though, I don’t think anyone listens to
them for laughs.<span> </span>They have, however,
become a thing to exploit.<span> </span>Eddie made
himself a commodity, so they keep him alive, to keep him in their movies.<span> </span>Such films rarely have a famous “star.”<span> </span>Now that they do, they’re going to get every
dime out of it.<span> </span>As long as there’s
something left to cut off, he’s valuable.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>So now there are a lot more Wisteria
Park tapes – the same ones Randy kept e-mailing me, and new ones from time to
time.<span> </span>I’m assured that Jojo’s making a
ton of Bitcoin off of them from morbidly curious creeps who collect them like
sick baseball cards.<span> </span>Randy and Glenn
are probably rich men, off in Belarus or Crimea or Argentina or someplace.<span> </span>Maybe they’re happy, in retrospect, to have
been Eddie’s lab rats.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>These new tapes, which the Feds
seem helpless to stop, are buried on the Dark Web somewhere and I’ve never seen
them and I don’t want to.<span> </span>I just keep
hoping that some day they’ll stop.<span> </span>God,
please, let them stop.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> <span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">THE
END</span></span></span></p> <br /><p></p>Zwolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02364540771153476179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-36890555874321651992022-05-12T08:09:00.038-05:002022-06-27T09:22:48.413-05:00Walk All Over You<p> Howdy.</p><p> Been a while, huh? Yep. But occasionally I still write things (and far less occasionally type them up and revise them). But I did that now, so, here we go.</p><p><br /></p><p>This is a sequel to an earlier story I wrote, <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/03/gone-shootin.html"><i>Gone Shootin'</i></a>. It was biker fiction/ crime stuff, and reading it first is not necessary, although it may help a bit, and if I did
everything right you'll want to hear more about this chick, anyway. She just can't stay out of trouble... or stories with titles borrowed from AC/DC songs. This one's maybe a bit warmer 'n' fuzzier, but it's still got plenty of animosity and a couple fights and a big car chase which is me trying to write something like <i>Bullitt</i>. And probably failing because, face it, nobody can write something like <i>Bullitt</i>. But hopefully it'll be entertaining to watch me try.</p><p>You can and should soundtrack the whole thing in your head when it starts happening in the story, that'd help a lot! <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/BvRIvoqe-NE" width="320" youtube-src-id="BvRIvoqe-NE"></iframe></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p> Since Morgan originated in some post-apocalyse "roadwarriorbullshit" stuff I work on a lot, I tried to write a short story. But there's ten characters to juggle and characterize in that thing so any story with them in it tends to grown into a novel. Otherwise they'd just be a bunch of cardboard you'd never keep straight or care about. But, I'll probably keep trying... I also have some more horror stories in the works, so, one of these days...<br /></p><p> </p><p>As always, if you liked this (or even if you didn't), there are more stories here, by me and by others. Almost all of them are horror stories, so if biker-chick-mayhem isn't your thing, maybe that will be. Here's a handy-dandy list to all of it.</p><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
KickerOfElves:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2018/10/just-leave.html" target="_blank">Just Leave </a><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2018/03/the-genius-of-sea.html" target="_blank">The Genius of the Sea</a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/rigor-mortis.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Rigor Mortis</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/men-with-knives.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Men With Knives</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Profbolt:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/08/east-of-rulesville-guest-short-story.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">East of Rulesville</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My stuff:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/10/all-angels-are-sleeping-now.html" target="_blank">All The Angels Are Sleeping Now</a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/09/the-nonsense.html" target="_blank">The Nonsense </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/03/out-by-turbines_13.html" target="_blank">Out By The Turbines </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/10/we-will-meet-on-that-beautiful-shore.html" target="_blank">We Will Meet On That Beautiful Shore </a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-guy-in-hallway-show.html" target="_blank">The Guy-In-The-Hallway Show </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/the-screaming-head-of-sister-mary-agnes.html" target="_blank">The Screaming Head of Sister Mary Agnes </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/10/pray-for-agatha-burning-in-hell.html" target="_blank">Pray For Agatha, Burning In Hell </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-night-is-filled-with-maniacs.html">The Night Is Filled With Maniacs </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/03/gone-shootin.html" target="_blank">Gone Shootin' </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/some-kinda-hate.html" target="_blank">Some Kinda Hate </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/creak.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Creak</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/shrouded-in-rain.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shrouded In Rain </span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2013/11/bodies-not-recovered.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Bodies Not Recovered</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/10/scribblebones.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scribblebones</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/long-tall-sally.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Long Tall Sally</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/shik-chuff.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shik-Chuff</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/11/damp-basements-of-heaven.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">The Damp Basements of Heaven</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2010/10/up-stairs-where-windows-are-painted.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Up The Stairs Where The Windows Are Painted Black</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/665-1.html" target="_blank">665+1 </a></span></div>
And <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/10/pleasant-dreams.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">little descriptions of actual nightmares I’ve had</span></a><p></p><p>Now, let's hit the fuckin' road.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">WALK
ALL OVER YOU</span></span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">It had been eleven days since Morgan
Stack had killed three men and now that she was two states and a new name away
from the bodies, her paranoia level was finally beginning to settle.<span> </span>A bruise on her tummy from a fight with one
of the deceased had faded enough that she was baring it with a torn-off tank
top, happily getting some relief from the sticky Louisiana summer. She had
better tee-shirts, but was using one nearly-new one as an oil rag.<span> </span>Considering what had gone down in the last
town she didn’t want to be seen wearing Ghost Patrol support gear and help
local law enforcement make connections.<span> </span>Connections
were also why she was looking over her bike, considering painting it
green.<span> </span>She hated green bikes, but nobody
was looking for one.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Someone was decidedly eyeballing her
bike as she sat on the sidewalk tuning it up, but this guy didn’t raise her
hackles much, since he was only about seven years old.<span> </span>She pulled out a spark plug, looked hard at
it, glanced over at the kid, then started gapping it.<span> </span>She let a minute pass, then since he hadn’t
moved she said, without looking up, “You know, you could see better if you came
over here.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He stood there and she could feel him
gathering his nerve.<span> </span>Morgan scowled
around at the sunlight brightening the trees.<span>
</span>Somewhere a lawnmower was going and she could smell fresh-cut grass.<span> </span>Time passed.<span>
</span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">She smirked at the spark plug, then
glanced back at him so he couldn’t pretend she wasn’t talking to him, and
twisted the plug in the rag.<span> </span>Slowly,
like someone approaching a firework that hadn’t gone off, he crept toward her.<span> </span>She didn’t look up again until he stopped
about ten feet away, head-start distance.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He was a little black kid, dark skinned,
skinny, with some fresh band aids and old scars that gave her a bad
feeling.<span> </span>She’d had similar scars at his
age, put there by the monsters who were her father and uncle, the first two
people she’d killed.<span> </span>She hoped this kid
just played a lot of football or something, didn’t have such relatives, but in
this neighborhood she doubted that kind of luck.<span> </span>She’d stand out too much in the happy-kid
neighborhoods.<span> </span>She widened her eyes at
him to let him know he was expected to say something.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Harley D-uh-avidson,” he said,
stuttering a little, pointing at the chrome on the tank.<span> </span>“Is it a r-real one?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Real as Milwaukee was making ‘em back
in the ‘70’s,” she said, then smirked at the spark plug she was still
polishing.<span> </span>“Which is a far-piece realer
than they make ‘em now.”<span> </span>“Far” came out
“fur” and she winced; she’d worked hard to scour the West Virginia from her
accent but sometimes it crept back in.<span>
</span>Identifying marks.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Is it yours?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“It better be, since I’m taking it
apart.”<span> </span>She held out the spark plug. <span> </span>“Know what this is?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He shook his head no, then said, “Is
it a s-spark plug?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Yep.<span>
</span>See, you knew after all.<span> </span>You’re
smarter than you thought.”<span> </span>She smiled.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He smiled back.<span> </span>“My mom’s boyfriend works on his car
sometimes.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Yeah?<span>
</span>You help him?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“N-no.<span>
</span>He won’t l-let me.”<span> </span>He
shrugged.<span> </span>“Tells me to get l-lost.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Well, that’s no good.<span> </span>How’re you supposed to learn stuff if you
have to get lost?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He shrugged and pulled his fingers and
kicked at the ground, saying unspoken things that she recognized with a little
ache.<span> </span>“How old are you?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He held up both hands with the thumbs
tucked in and Morgan pointed to each, making a big show of counting them like
it was a big number.<span> </span>“Eight.<span> </span>That’s over a handful of years.<span> </span>That’s old enough to know some stuff.<span> </span>Somebody should take time to show you instead
of chasing you off.<span> </span>Here.”<span> </span>She showed him the plug, and he stepped
closer, carefully.<span> </span>“See this part?<span> </span>It’s ceramic.<span>
</span>See how it’s grey?<span> </span>That’s
good.<span> </span>It means it’s getting the right
fuel flow.<span> </span>If it’s white it’s not
burning enough, if it’s black, that’s carbon, and it’s running too hot.<span> </span>Make sense?”<span>
</span>He shrugged, and she laughed.<span>
</span>“That’s okay.<span> </span>Lotsa people riding
these things don’t understand it, either.”<span>
</span>She held it out to him.<span> </span>“Tell you
what.<span> </span>You put this back where it goes
for me.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I d-don’t know where it g-goes.”<span> </span>He tugged at his fingers some more, then took
the plug, examining it.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Bet you can figure it out,” she said,
leaning back on her palms.<span> </span>“Try.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“What if I do it wrong?”<span> </span>He turned the plug around, looking at the
bike.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I won’t let you do it wrong, don’t
worry.<span> </span>I love this bike too much.<span> </span>I built it.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“You <i>built </i>it?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">She nodded, smiling her eyes at
him.<span> </span>The eyes were so light grey they
threw back the light like chrome, remarkable eyes that always shocked anyone
who saw them, especially given the contrast with her long brown hair.<span> </span>Morgan was an astoundingly beautiful young woman,
the kind you’d see once at a bus stop and then remember on your deathbed.<span> </span>It was a fact she wasn’t too crazy about most
of the time, since she was a criminal and didn’t want to be noticed.<span> </span>It was an asset she could exploit, but a
bigger liability, since it attracted unwanted people and made her too easy to
notice and describe.<span> </span>“Look for the
supermodel in the stolen car,” that narrowed it down, damnit.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I didn’t know girls could build
motorcycles.”<span> </span>He smiled, knowing it
might be dangerous ground.<span> </span>Chauvinism,
but it charmed her since he was eight.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">She laughed.<span> </span>“Maybe girls can’t, but women kick butt at
it.<span> </span>Show me how kids are at it.<span> </span>Go ahead, look at the engine there, where do
you think that goes?<span> </span>Look close, take
your time.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">The boy leaned in and stared at the
big modified V-Twin.<span> </span>“Can I touch it?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Sure.<span>
</span>You’re kinda gonna have to to fix it, right?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He found a hole and poked it with his
finger, then looked at her and she raised an eyebrow.<span> </span>“You’re gonna stop me if I do it wrong,
right?<span> </span>I don’t wanna mess up your bike.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I’ll stop you.<span> </span>Don’t be nervous.<span> </span>This is serious steel, you’d have to beat hell
out of it to hurt it.<span> </span>Anyhow, I have
faith in you.<span> </span>You look like a smart
fella.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“You don’t even know my name,” he
laughed.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Easy enough to fix.<span> </span>So, tell me.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“It’s Paul.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">She held out her hand.<span> </span>“Glad to meet you, Paul.<span> </span>I’m Jane.”<span>
</span>That was a lie, but one she could produce two forms of I.D. to support
if she had to.<span> </span>She could be any one of
six people at the moment.<span> </span>Jane seemed
the best fit for this town, since her driver’s license was from the state
capitol.<span> </span>In the next town she might use
Abigail.<span> </span>It seemed a challenge, being an
Abigail.<span> </span>Sounded girly.<span> </span>They were all names of people who’d died in
infancy, and Morgan was their ghost, the only life they’d ever have.<span> </span>She doubted they’d like what she did with it,
but, too bad.<span> </span>That’s what you get for
dyin’.<span> </span>She figured she’d get her turn
soon enough, and then she’d probably be a Jane again: Jane Doe.<span> </span>That’s if they even found anything to stick a
label on.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Paul shook her hand.<span> </span>He stared at the bike, then poked the spark
plug in the hole.<span> </span>He tried it the wrong
way and it didn’t fit, so he tried it the other.<span> </span>He turned it and it felt right and he smiled,
knowing he’d solved it.<span> </span>Morgan winked at
him and handed him a wrench.<span> </span>“Right
tighty, lefty loosey.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“What’s that m-mean?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Turn it to the right – this way” –
she took his hand – “and you tighten it.<span>
</span>Which is what you want to be doing.<span>
</span>Turn it to the left and you loosen it.<span>
</span>At least, that’s how it works in the Western hemisphere.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Is it different other places?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I have no idea, sometimes I just say
stuff.”<span> </span>He looked confused and she
smiled.<span> </span>“Water goes down the drain
counter-clockwise in, like, Australia.<span>
</span>You probably wouldn’t know that, so it’s a dumb joke.<span> </span>Forget it.<span>
</span>Just try the wrench.”<span> </span>She started
it for him, then let him finish, then dabbed a little dielectric grease on the
tip of the plug.<span> </span>“Now, this wire here,
where might that go?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He shrugged.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Look at the other one, here.”<span> </span>He looked, then slipped the cap back onto the
plug and laughed.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Morgan clapped.<span> </span>“Good work!<span>
</span>You know how many grown-ups have never done that?<span> </span>You’re halfway to being a mechanic.<span> </span>Big help, thank you!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He smiled big.<span> </span>“Can I take the other one out?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Yeah, save me the trouble.<span> </span>Go to it.”<span>
</span>She sat back to watch, glancing up and down the street.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Paul fiddled with it.<span> </span>“You’re nice.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Not always.<span> </span>But you look worth being nice to.<span> </span>And I could tell you like my bike.<span> </span>I like people who like my bike, most of the
time.<span> </span>All of the time if they’re eight.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Would you ride me on it?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Not unless your mom says okay.<span> </span>No Amber Alerts going out on this chick,
bruh.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“What’s an Amber Alert?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Something you never want to be a part
of.<span> </span>Anyway, you better be careful,
wanting to ride with people you just met.<span>
</span>It’s a creepy world.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Yeah.<span>
</span>I’m not even supposed to talk to you.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">She nodded and made a face.<span> </span>“Yeah.<span>
</span>We’re out on the street, though, and everybody can see us.<span> </span>It’s not that bad.<span> </span>Gotta be careful, though.<span> </span>Be safe.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“You don’t look like you’d hurt
anybody.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">She wanted to laugh.<span> </span>Bad judge of character, this kid. <span> </span>She’d hurt more people than she could keep
track of, and put a few in the ground… three who were barely cold yet.<span> </span>None of them had been kids, though, and never
would be.<span> </span>So, maybe he wasn’t too far
off. She felt good, giving him that vibe.<span>
</span>It meant, damaged as she was, she could turn the menace off when she
wanted.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“You’re really pretty,” he said.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Thank you.<span> </span>You’re quite handsome yourself.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I never seen eyes like yours.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I get that a lot.<span> </span>Did they scare you at first?”<span> </span>He laughed.<span>
</span>“Uh-huh, admit it.<span> </span>They’re
monster eyes, huh?<span> </span>Blaaagh!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Maybe a little.<span> </span>I like them, though.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Yeah, me too.<span> </span>Seeing stuff is useful.<span> </span>Be hard to ride, one hand on the handlebar,
the other on the road.<span> </span>Guess I could get
one of those canes.”<span> </span>He didn’t laugh,
and she said, “It’s okay, I know I’m not very funny.”<span> </span>She helped him start the plug, and once it
was loosened, she let him ratchet it.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“My dad’s brother is blind.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Yeah?<span>
</span>That’s rough.<span> </span>Sorry.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“He’s got diabetes.<span> </span>He’s nice, though, like you.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="line-height: 107%;">Probably can’t afford to be not-nice</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;">, she thought.<span> </span><i>The more options people have for being an
asshole, the more they seem to take.</i><span>
</span>Instead, she said, “Good.<span> </span>People
ought to be nice to you. <span> </span>You’re a
helpful kid.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Aw, I’m not really helping.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Sure you are.<span> </span>I get tired of wrenching everything.<span> </span>And anyway, you’re keeping me company.<span> </span>It gets lonely, being new in town.”<span> </span>The last part, at least, had some truth to
it.<span> </span>Morgan spent most of her life being
new in town.<span> </span>That bike was her home, and
it moved fast.<span> </span>And even though she
didn’t like people much, seeing them all around made her feel singled out.<span> </span>Usually people were better as part of a blur.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“You gonna live here now?” Paul asked
hopefully.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">She shook her head.<span> </span>“As long as I’m able to move I’m not gonna
live anywhere.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Never?<span> </span>Even when you get old?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Morgan smiled.<span> </span>The kid was cute, thinking she’d live that
long.<span> </span>“Maybe if I get so I can’t handle
the bike anymore.<span> </span>‘Til then, nah.<span> </span>Not for me.<span>
</span>I’m here a week or two, then gone-ski.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I wish I could move,” Paul said,
quiet, like a secret.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Yeah?<span>
</span>Got stuff you want to get away from?” Morgan probed, feeling a chill,
more due to her own past than his present.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He nodded.<span> </span>“M-mean people around here.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Mess with ya, huh?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He shrugged, tugging at his
fingers.<span> </span>She gave his shoulder a
squeeze.<span> </span>“Well, they shouldn’t.<span> </span>Someday you can move.<span> </span>Or they will.<span>
</span>Things always change.<span> </span>Not
everybody’s mean, right?<span> </span>You got your
uncle.<span> </span>How about your mom?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Yeah, she’s n-nice.<span> </span>When she can be.<span> </span>Her b-boyfriend yells at her when she is,
though.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“One of those guys who doesn’t believe
in being nice, huh?<span> </span>There’s always a
jerk.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“He’s an asshole,” Paul said,
squinting to see if he’d get in trouble for saying the word, being a risk
taker.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Sounds like maybe he is.<span> </span>Won’t let you watch him work on cars, that
sounds pretty assholish to me.<span> </span>Tell you
what.<span> </span>If you’re interested in engines
and stuff, ask me anything you want about this bike, what any part does, and
I’ll tell you about it.<span> </span>I don’t think
you’re too young to learn some stuff.<span>
</span>You seem smart.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I’m not bothering you?” he squinted.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Nope.<span>
</span>I like you, you’re a good guy.<span>
</span>You helped me change my spark plugs, you kept me company in a lonely
town, and I think answering your questions is a good use of my time.<span> </span>Somebody’s gotta keep riding these things
after I get too old.<span> </span>So, what do you
want to know?<span> </span>Lotsa funny-lookin’ gizmos
there.<span> </span>Pick one.<span> </span>Let’s play stump the biker chick.<span> </span>I always win.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He grinned and started pointing to
things, and she gave him a non-tech version of what they were and how they
worked.<span> </span>If they were easy to take off,
she did it, and let him put them back on.<span>
</span>She figured he wasn’t understanding it all, but he was feeling respected
and that’s something she’d have loved at his age.<span> </span>Maybe if she’d gotten it she wouldn’t be
needing to ditch a gun, which he was keeping her from doing, but that was
okay.<span> </span>Time was money, but it was a good
idea to invest some.<span> </span>The happier he got,
she noticed, the less he stuttered.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">They kept it up until Paul’s mom
called him and he had to go.<span> </span>He shook
hands with her and left, and Morgan judged she still had plenty of time to get
a gun deal in operation, so she swung onto the bike, fired it, and headed out.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div style="border-bottom: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; border: medium none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1pt;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> *******************<br /></span></span></p>
</div><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>The
biker hang-out in this town was called, not very originally, The Iron Horse
Stable Company.<span> </span>And that was the most
original thing about it; the place, and the people in it, looked like a hundred
other places and people Morgan had seen, decorated in secondhand deja-vu right
down to the neon beer signs.<span> </span>She didn’t
particularly want company, but she did want a new off-the-books firearm, and
places like this were the best place to find a hookup, so she’d dropped around
a couple of times, asking likely people appropriately vague questions.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>A fat
old guy she’d talked to before spotted her and walked over, smiling.<span> </span>He hadn’t been obnoxious, either by nature or
by being too old to get away with it anymore, so he hadn’t caught as big a dose
of the usual Morgan Stack go-to-hell as most did.<span> </span>“Howdy!<span>
</span>Jane, was it?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Was
it?<span> </span>Yeah, I guess it was.<span> </span>I sometimes forget what name I’m using,”
Morgan said, knowing the truth would be taken as a joke.<span> </span>It was fun to fess up and be thought a witty
bitch for doing it.<span> </span>She bumped fists
with him.<span> </span>“Arnold, right?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yep.<span> </span>Thanks a lot, dad,” the old guy sighed.<span> </span>“Always wanted me a cool nickname instead,
but the onliest one I could ever scare up was Turtle, and even Arnold’s better
than that.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
winced.<span> </span>“Yeah, even I’d take Arnold over
Turtle.<span> </span>What, was you slow, or couldn’t
get up if somebody flipped you on your back?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He laughed.<span> </span>“Naw.<span>
</span>Believe it or not, <i>worse</i>.<span>
</span>Before my fusion surgery, I used to poke my face forward all the
time.<span> </span>I can’t even do it now to show
you.”<span> </span>He rubbed the back of his neck.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
laughed.<span> </span>“Bikers can be so fucking
mean.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah,
you tell me.<span> </span>That why you was looking
for a gun?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Oh
yeah, gotta shoot some dudes up,” Morgan said with a teasing smirk.<span> </span>“Sumbitches been trying to call me ‘Turtle.’”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He
laughed.<span> </span>“Smartass.<span> </span>I like you.<span>
</span>Hell if I can think of a reason why, though.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I’m
awful pretty,” Morgan shrugged.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Well,
that’s got something to do with it.<span>
</span>‘Cept you’re that kinda pretty that scares me, that kind that’ll make a
guy do stupid things for you.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Like
get involved in illegal arms deals?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Exactly.<span> </span>If you’re still in the market, the one you
want to talk to is here.”<span> </span>He raised his
chin toward the back of the room.<span>
</span>“Cowboy.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
squinted through the smoke and neon, seeing a couple of guys shooting
pool.<span> </span>Both of them looked dumb as shit
and Morgan’s hopes sank.<span> </span>They’d be on
every cop’s radar.<span> </span>Want to blip hard,
get you some prison tats, preferably those fucking teardrops on your face.<span> </span>God.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“In the
booth back there,” Arnold said.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“All I
see back there’s a girl.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah,
that’s Cowboy.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan’s
eyebrows raised.<span> </span>Well, this was a new
one.<span> </span>She dug a twenty out of her black
leather jeans, dropped it on the bar, and squeezed Arnold’s shoulder.<span> </span>“Pour yourself anything you want and keep the
change.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Unnecessary,
but appreciated,” he said, and Morgan went across the room toward the girl in
the booth.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>The girl
was quite pretty, shoulder-length blonde hair with bangs hanging in her green
eyes, freckles sprayed across her turned-up nose and cheeks, rangy lean
build.<span> </span>She looked up at Morgan.<span> </span>“You Cowboy?” Morgan asked.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yaw-zzzzzz,”
the girl purred.<span> </span>“Do something for ya?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Could
be.<span> </span>I hear you deal guns.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Guns?<span> </span>Never heard of ‘em,” the girl said, smirking
and rolling her eyes.<span> </span>“Oh, you must mean
<i>gum</i>.<span> </span>Yeah, I like spearmint.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
slid into the booth across from her.<span> </span>“If
you think I’m a cop or an eighty-F I’m gonna get my feelings hurt.<span> </span>I am, in no way and by no means, affiliated
with law enforcement other than being the occasional guest, and only when they
insist and I’m not roadrunner enough for they coyote shit.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Cowboy
laughed.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Now
that entrapment’s off the table, can you hook me up?<span> </span>Ideally I’d just need a new barrel, but I’ll
go the whole shmear if that’s not doable.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“New
barrel?<span> </span>Somebody’s been a bad
girl.”<span> </span>Cowboy smiled and the freckles
went everywhere.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
shrugged.<span> </span>“Somebody was being a bad
boy.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Shit
does happen, don’t it?<span> </span>What kind of a
barrel?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“.45
Detonics.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Whoa.<span> </span>Those are unusual.<span> </span>Usually everybody don’t know no better and
just has a shitty-ass Glock, because everybody else has a shitty-ass Glock.
Plastic Hasbro bullshit.<span> </span>Do you know
the same factory that makes Glocks makes Barbie dolls?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Is that true?” Morgan laughed.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I have no idea, but I like saying
it.<span> </span>You handle a .45?<span> </span>They got a habit of jamming in female hands.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Never had that problem,” Morgan
said.<span> </span>“Maybe my hands aren’t dainty
enough.”<span> </span>She held them up, and they were
the least feminine part of her, scarred and maltreated.<span> </span>As a young child she’d developed an obsession
with carrying tree stumps around, trying to get strong enough to fight off her
daddy and uncle, and it had left her arms sinew-strong enough to handle a .45
the way most did a .22.<span> </span>Wrecked ‘em for
pretty, though.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Cowboy looked at Morgan’s arms,
pressed her lips together, and raised her eyebrows.<span> </span>“Could be.<span>
</span>Well, my brother’s really the one with most of the connections, but he’s
locked up in Angola for a while.<span> </span>I
betcha I can shake a Detonics barrel out of a certain tree I know about,
though.<span> </span>Can you handle a wait of a
couple’er three days?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Oh yeah, should be no problem.<span> </span>Sometimes I go a whole month or two without
shooting anybody.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Cowboy laughed.<span> </span>“You must be from one of the <i>good</i>
neighborhoods.<span> </span>Best I’ve managed is a
week.<span> </span>And that was only because daylight
savings time started.”<span> </span>Morgan laughed,
mostly for diplomacy, and Cowboy bumped fists with her.<span> </span>“So, your name?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Oh, sorry.<span> </span>It’s Jane.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Cowboy nodded.<span> </span>“Tarzan the reason you need a replacement
barrel?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Yep.<span>
</span>Knocked that booger right off the vine.<span>
</span>You shoulda heard him yell <i>then</i>.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Cowboy covered her face and
laughed.<span> </span>“I should not laugh at these
things.<span> </span>In fact, we ought to go
shoot.<span> </span>I was gonna get tipsy but you caught
me on my first, and I’ve got a range about five minutes off.<span> </span>Feel like making some noise?<span> </span>Making life bad downrange?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Sure.<span>
</span>Wouldn’t want to miss a chance to shoot with a girl named Cowboy.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“You ain’t gonna believe this, but my
real name?<span> </span>It’s Jane.<span> </span>Not that your real name is.<span> </span>Nobody buying barrels uses their real one.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Ah, there’s always an exception,”
Morgan smirked and rolled her eyes.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Yeah, but exceptions are dumb, and I
can already tell you ain’t that,” Cowboy said, standing up.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“So, anyway, Cowboy, huh?<span> </span>Cowboy Jane.<span>
</span>Sounds <i>Brokeback</i>.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Yeah.<span>
</span>I like horses and stuff, and my brother claims I’m too good at it for a
girl.<span> </span>Insult <i>and</i> a
compliment.<span> </span>You like horses?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Only the steel ones.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“You should try the organic kind.<span> </span>Bet you’d like it.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Morgan shook her head.<span> </span>“I can ride them if I have to, but I don’t
like things that have to depend on me.<span>
</span>The organic kind’s too much like a relationship.<span> </span>You end up shoveling somebody’s shit.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Cowboy stopped to hug a guy on the way
out and said, “Sworn to fun and loyal to none, huh?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“What’s ‘fun’?” Morgan asked.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Cowboy laughed.<span> </span>“Get in the truck and I’ll show you.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Morgan nodded to her bike.<span> </span>“I’ll follow.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Cowboy looked at the bike.<span> </span>“Wow. Shit.<span>
</span>Okay, I maybe would give up a horse for that.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“No shovel required.<span> </span>Ain’t even a shovelhead.”<span> </span>Morgan threw a long leg over it and stomped
it to life.<span> </span>“I’ll ride you back to your
truck if you want to pack on.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Hell,” Cowboy said, and climbed on
behind Morgan.<span> </span>“Gonna let you play with
my guns, the least I can do is play with your bike.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Morgan knuckled it and they were gone.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div style="border-bottom: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; border: medium none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1pt;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> *******************</span></span> <br /></span></span></p>
</div><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>The next day Morgan pulled her bike up after a
ride and swung off of it, rubbing her bruised shoulder.<span> </span>There’d probably be another on her hip,
considering what she and Cowboy had fired the day before.<span> </span>She was heading into her cheap rented room
when she heard “Jane!<span> </span>Jane!”<span> </span>Remembering that was supposed to be her, she
turned and saw Paul running up to her.<span>
</span>He stopped, smiling big and breathing so hard in excitement he couldn’t
talk. <span> </span>He was so happy to see her that
for a second she wanted to cry.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Hey, I know you.<span> </span>You’re Paul, my mechanic,” she said,
crouching down so she wouldn’t loom over him.<span>
</span>She held out her hand and he shook it.<span>
</span>“What you been up to?<span> </span>Fixing any
more bikes?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Naw,” he laughed.<span> </span>She noticed he had a new band-aid under one
ear.<span> </span>Kind of an odd place to hurt
yourself, unless somebody smacked you.<span>
</span>“What you been doing?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Getting some groceries,” she
said.<span> </span>“Can you wait here while I run
them in?<span> </span>I’ve got some frozen stuff.<span> </span>Promise I’ll come right back out.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Okay,” he said, and looked at her
bike while she stashed her stuff inside, frowning over that band-aid.<span> </span>She wanted to ask him about it, but
remembered what it was like having to answer questions like that.<span> </span>Kind of put you on a spot about a secret you
wanted to keep.<span> </span>She went back out and
sat on the front step, and Paul ran over.<span>
</span>“Is the bike running good?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Morgan kissed her fingers and flicked
them out.<span> </span>“<i>Magnifique</i>.<span> </span>You did extra good work.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Aw, I didn’t really do nothin’.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I was there, you can’t fool me.<span> </span>Takes technique to turn that wrench just
right.<span> </span>Nope, you’ve got the knack and
you’re stuck with it.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He laughed, swinging his arms back to
front, back to front, so full of happy he had to burn some off.<span> </span>“So, where’d you ride to?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Well, the grocery store, just
now.<span> </span>But I’ve been lots of places.<span> </span>Hung out with a girl named Cowboy.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Cowboy’s a funny name for a girl!” he
laughed.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I know, right?<span> </span>She didn’t look a thing like a boy, either.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Should be Cow-<i>girl</i>.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“That’d make a lot more sense.<span> </span>Anyway, she had horses and stuff.<span> </span>You like horses?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I guess.<span> </span>I never met one.<span> </span>I petted a cow on the head once, though.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“You must’ve been taller back
then.<span> </span>Cows are up here.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He made a face.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“That’s pretty much the same thing,
really.<span> </span>Horses are kinda like fast cows
on a diet.<span> </span>So, what’ve you been up to,
school and stuff?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“It’s summer.<span> </span>School’s out.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Ah.<span>
</span>So, running around like a crazy person?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He laughed.<span> </span>“I guess.<span>
</span>Some.<span> </span>Watching TV, reading
books.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Ooo, I love books.<span> </span>Whatcha reading?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Harry Potter, Captain
Underpants.<span> </span>I got some Batman and
Spider-Man.<span> </span>Archie.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Captain Underpants?” Morgan
laughed.<span> </span>“Is that really a thing?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Yeah!<span>
</span>You never heard of Captain Underpants?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">She shook her head.<span> </span>“Nope.<span>
</span>That’s a new one to me.<span> </span>Guess I’m
old and missing all the good stuff.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“You’re not old.<span> </span>You’re cool!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Can’t be old and cool, huh?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He shrugged.<span> </span>The arms went round and round.<span> </span>“So what’re you reading?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Well, I was reading Shelby Foote’s
history of the Civil War, but it was at the library in the last town I was in,
and this town’s library doesn’t have it.<span>
</span>Or they do and it’s checked out, which amounts to the same thing, right?<span> </span>So I’m re-reading a Stephen King book I
have.<span> </span>‘Bout vampires, with fangs and
scary eyes like I got.”<span> </span>She hooked her
hands into claws and bared her teeth.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I know about the Civil War,” Paul
said.<span> </span>“That’s when we fought the
Yankees.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Morgan winced inside at the “we”
coming from a black kid, but let it go – he’d learn the facts later, they were
too heavy for her to tackle and for him to carry right now.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“You like the library?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I love the library.”<span> </span>Morgan had missed most of the school she was
supposed to go to, and had self-educated by staying in libraries most
days.<span> </span>They were like homeless shelters
where people weren’t allowed to pester you, and they killed a lot of time,
safely.<span> </span>“Don’t you?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Paul shrugged.<span> </span>“I never go.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Ah, you should.<span> </span>All the books you could ever want, free.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I bet they’ve got Captain
Underpants.<span> </span>You should read those,
they’re funny.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I’ll bet.<span> </span>I’m laughing just knowing they exist.”<span> </span>She looked up and saw a young woman crossing
the street towards them.<span> </span>She looked
pleasant so Morgan guessed she wasn’t in any trouble.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Hi, are you Jane?” she asked.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Yes ma’am,” Morgan said, standing up
to shake hands.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I’m Cynthia, Paul’s mother.<span> </span>I hope he isn’t bothering you.”<span> </span>Morgan was surprised she was white.<span> </span>With this knowledge she could see a little of
a mix in Paul, but his mom’s DNA hadn’t done much.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Not at all.<span> </span>On the contrary, actually, he’s really good
company.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Paul held his hands and swayed back
and forth, overjoyed.<span> </span>Morgan looked at
Cynthia’s hands, for rings, the kind that could leave cuts.<span> </span>There were none, and he seemed easy around
her.<span> </span>Morgan noted a bruise on her arm,
too, right at the point where you’d be grabbed and shaken by someone angry.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I think so, too.<span> </span>Well, he certainly likes you.<span> </span>For the past couple of days he keeps talking
about Jane, and how Jane is his friend, and Jane builds motorcycles, and Jane
is Miss America.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Morgan laughed.<span> </span>“I don’t know where he got that last
part.”<span> </span>She frowned at Paul.<span> </span>“Are you telling people I’m Miss America?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Well, you could be,” he said.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I agree,” Cynthia said.<span> </span>“I’m glad to meet you, and see you’re
real.<span> </span>The way Paul’s been talking about
you we were starting to think he made you up.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Nope, I’m real.<span> </span>He came out the other day and helped me tune
up my bike.<span> </span>He did a good job, you
should be proud of him.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I am,” Cynthia said, stroking his
head, and Morgan decided that if anyone were marking this kid up, it wasn’t his
mom.<span> </span>She took Cynthia off her hit
list.<span> </span>“He’s a good boy.<span> </span>Thank you for being so nice to him.<span> </span>He’s been next to the moon about it.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Can we have Jane over for dinner,
mom?”<span> </span>Paul asked. “Please?<span> </span>She’s nice!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I can see she’s nice,” Cynthia said,
embarrassed.<span> </span>“I’d love to, but you know
how Marcus is.<span> </span>I’m sorry, I…”<span> </span>Cynthia looked at Morgan.<span> </span>“I have an unfriendly boyfriend.<span> </span>Well, not a boyfriend… more something I’m
dealing with.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Morgan nodded.<span> </span>“I think we’ve all been through that.”<span> </span>She hadn’t—she’d never put up with it, not since
she’d shotgunned her father and uncle – but knew that not everybody could go
where she’d gone.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“I hate Marcus,” Paul said.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Now, son, don’t say things like
that.<span> </span>In any case, I’m sorry, I…”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“No explaining needed.<span> </span>I don’t have anything to wear, anyway.”<span> </span>Morgan gestured, showing off an old Motorhead
tee-shirt someone had given her, and her black leather pants tucked into
motorcycle boots so banged up steel was showing through a toe.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“That wouldn’t matter.<span> </span>Anyway, thanks for being nice to him.<span> </span>It’s good for him.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“No problem.<span> </span>I enjoy his company, and he deserves it.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Yes, he does.”<span> </span>Cynthia smiled shyly and walked back across
the street, and Paul stayed.<span> </span>“So, did
you ride horses?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“No, I just looked at ‘em,” Morgan
said, sitting on the curb.<span> </span>“I’m better
at things with handlebars.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“So what did you and Cowboy do then?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Morgan thought about telling him “we
shot a B.A.R. and cycled a belt through an M-60,” but decided that might not be
a good idea so she said, “Oh, girly stuff.<span>
</span>Playing with dolls and all.”<span> </span>She
wrinkled her nose at him.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“You did not!” he laughed.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“You callin’ me a liar?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Yeah!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">She laughed.<span> </span>“Got me.<span>
</span>I’m gonna call it teasing instead of lying, though.<span> </span>For lying I’d have to tickle you.”<span> </span>She poked him.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He laughed.<span> </span>“Teasing’s just lying that’s not mean.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“You’re wise.<span> </span>I’m stealing that.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“You don’t have to steal it, I’m
giving it to you.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">She pointed at him.<span> </span>“I like your style, bud.<span> </span>You’re quick.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He snorted like a goof and she had to
giggle at him.<span> </span>It felt strange, she
wasn’t used to it.<span> </span>He didn’t look used
to being so happy, either.<span> </span>“Got anything
else you need fixed on the bike?” he asked.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Nope, runs perfect.<span> </span>When my mechanic wrenches something, he does
it right.<span> </span>I am forgetting what some of
the parts are and what they do, though.<span>
</span>Think you could remind me?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Yeah!”<span> </span>They went over to the Harley and passed about
an hour.<span> </span>Morgan probed a bit about the
bandaid under his ear and when he became evasive and started stuttering it told
her all she needed to know, so she got him to tell her about Captain Underpants
instead.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Morgan was pretty sure she hated
Marcus, too.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div style="border-bottom: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; border: medium none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1pt;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> *******************</span></span> <br /></span></span></p>
</div><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">The next morning Morgan was heading
out for a ride and a big Olds Cutlass, 1971 model, rumbled by her, and Morgan
took note.<span> </span>Her father and uncle had
fixed up several cars and made her run ‘scrips and weed and shine in them,
stupidly figuring the cops would blame her if she were caught and only send her
to juvie.<span> </span>One of them had been a ’71
Olds, and she’d loved the big 442 engine.<span>
</span>This one was painted a bright lime green and Morgan decided that no, she
would not paint her bike green even if not doing it risked prison.<span> </span>What an awful thing to do to a nice car.<span> </span>The guy in it gave her a scowl.<span> </span>Most guys tried smiling at Morgan, hoping to
win points.<span> </span>Not this prick.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Surprisingly the Olds pulled in at
Paul’s house.<span> </span>It bubbled exhaust a bit,
then shut down and a convict got out.<span>
</span>Morgan had been around so many people who’d done time that she could
spot them almost immediately from certain mannerisms.<span> </span>This guy was built like a golf tee, all upper
body muscle from hitting the weight pile, stacked on skinny legs from sitting
playing cards all day.<span> </span>He walked like
there were people in front and behind him, a lunch-line waddle, the institution
conga.<span> </span>He’d been in, and for a while,
too.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He looked back over at her, went in
the house for a minute, then came back out, lunch-lining towards her.<span> </span>He was a big guy.<span> </span>He wouldn’t be fast but she wouldn’t want to
let him get a grip on her.<span> </span>That’d be
bad.<span> </span>Not that she couldn’t get out of
it, but it’d require hardware, which would make it a felony.<span> </span>The legs were a target. He’d be watching his
groin.<span> </span>She’d go upside his knee with a
kick-stomp if it came to that, maybe jab his eyes then while he worried over his
leg, <i>then</i> she would kick him in the balls, put him on the ground, and
start raining boots.<span> </span>Or, backup plan,
knife slash, then stick-stick-stick.<span>
</span>Felony again, but she was a female, he was male, who’d convict her,
especially if she cried about how scared she was? <span> </span>She was a good enough actress.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">This wasn’t animosity on Morgan’s part,
just an exercise she ran whenever anybody who might be a problem
approached.<span> </span>A lot of people wondered if
they could take someone out; Morgan just thought of how.<span> </span>She raised off the bike and waited, calm.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“You’d be Jane,” he said.<span> </span>She glanced at his hand – yep, there was that
ring – then looked back at his face.<span> </span>It
was wide, with a flat nose that likely wasn’t genetic, hound-dog eyes of a dull
green, and a wide mouth that creased at the sides from being pulled down a
lot.<span> </span>A deep scar bisected the corner of
it.<span> </span>His forearms sported tats featuring
locks and bars and “hard time” slogans – proud of getting caught and wanting
everyone to know it.<span> </span>Dumb sonofabitch.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Morgan gave him flat-effect and said, “Marcus?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He looked surprised, not happily, but
nodded.<span> </span>“My girlfriend’s kid been out
here botherin’ you.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Nope,” she said, smiling a bit,
easy.<span> </span>“He’s been out visiting me a
little, hasn’t bothered me once.<span> </span>He’s a
good kid.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“He’s a <i>dumb</i> kid and needs to
mind his own business.<span> </span>Wants to mess
with my car now.<span> </span>You got him thinking I
should be showing him how to work on engines.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Why don’t you, then?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Because he’s fucking eight.<span> </span>And because he’s a pain in my ass.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Morgan thought about telling him some of
the amazing things she’d learned before she was eight, but you don’t hand a guy
like Marcus anything he can use.<span> </span>“Well,
he’s not a pain in mine, and mine’s prettier than yours, so there.<span> </span>He was interested so I showed him some
things.<span> </span>Could be you showed him some
things you’d find out you like him, too.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“None of that’s any business of yours,
is what I’m saying.<span> </span>You gone stop
talking to him because it gives him ideas and makes him bother me.<span> </span>Get me?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Nope.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He stared at her and shifted, trying
to make himself look bigger, and it amused her that she’d made him feel like he
needed to.<span> </span>He rocked his weight to his
left leg.<span> </span>Left knee, then, that’s what
she’d hit.<span> </span>Throw her weight into a stomp-kick
and he’d go down like a tent.<span> </span>Except a
tent doesn’t get danced on after.<span> </span>“Nope
what?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Nope I don’t getcha.”<span> </span>She smiled.<span>
</span>“Do you <i>want</i> me to getcha?<span>
</span>You won’t like it much.<span> </span>Really
hurts.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Marcus stared, not believing
this.<span> </span>Most men backed away when he
barked, and now a fucking supermodel was lipping at him, didn’t seem
scared?<span> </span>He did not like that.<span> </span>“What’d you say?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Ah, let’s not play ‘what’d you say,’”
Morgan sighed.<span> </span>“’What’d you say,’ when
you damn well heard what I said, is boring.<span>
</span>You want to throw down, then throw, and I’ll show you something <i>not</i>
boring.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He stared.<span> </span>She raised her eyebrows at him, like she was
waiting.<span> </span>“Bitch, you crazy.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Uh huh, that’s what they say.<span> </span>Not as crazy as any sumbitch thinks he’s gone
tell me what to do, though.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He huffed.<span> </span>“Cunt, you ‘bout to make me mad.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“How would I do it?” she smirked.<span> </span>“I’d like to.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“You don’t really want to find out,
believe that,” he said.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Well, I’d tell you to calm down, but
there’s no reason to be calm.<span> </span>Not after
you come at me barking bitch-this cunt-that you’re-gonna.<span> </span>Kinda shit gets you hurt.<span> </span>So you <i>should</i> be keyed up, close as
you are to some serious bleeding and finding out if the Lord loves ya.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Marcus stared at her, then laughed.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">She smiled and said, “Oh, I hate to
see you being such a good sport about it.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“You really are crazy,” he
laughed.<span> </span>“God <i>damn!”</i></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Morgan smiled big and made wide crazy
eyes, then eased back down.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“Okay, then.<span> </span>Well, I’m not sure what to do.<span> </span>If you were a man I’d beat the shit out of
you.” </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“And if <i>you</i> were a man you
wouldn’t make excuses for being a coward.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Marcus snorted.<span> </span>“You think I won’t hit you just because
you’re a woman?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">“No, I think women and kids are pretty
much all you swing on.<span> </span>Try it on me and
I’ll show you something interesting, like what the inside of your arm looks
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</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Morgan
crooked a finger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Come to grief, baby.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Man…
you’re pushing me. I might just have to come spank you,” he laughed.</span></p>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>Morgan laughed back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Oh, I wish you’d try.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I’ll see you die ugly. </span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Uglier, I mean.<span> </span>You’re already at ugly.”<span> </span>She leaned back on the bike, let that hang in
the air.<span> </span>Left knee, then throat.<span> </span>Yep.<span>
</span>Take two seconds, then kicking and stomping as long as she felt like it,
which was usually a while due to the mean streak she got from her daddy’s side
of the family.</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">He laughed, but it was nervous.<span> </span>“Okay.<span>
</span>Well, you got a sense of humor.” </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Morgan nodded.<span> </span>“I do, but a buncha dudes missing some pieces
will tell you it’s better if I don’t use it.”<span>
</span>She stepped away from the bike and looked into his eyes.<span> </span>“Look, I get it, you’re a tough guy.<span> </span>Unless you want a damn girl to help you find
out how tough, you’ll quit gulping air to make you look big, ‘cuz I’m not
impressed, I’ll just pop you.<span> </span>All I did
was be nice to a little kid who deserves to have people be nice to him.<span> </span>That’s how it should be.<span> </span>If that makes you look bad, that ain’t my
problem.<span> </span>You take it out on him, though,
that’s going to be your problem, because I know where you live.<span> </span>And I doubt you got anybody who likes you
enough to be wiping your ass while both arms are broke.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“All
right, well, shit,” Marcus said, then came at her.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He
managed to grab her shoulder with such force she suddenly felt fragile as a
baby bird and wondered if she’d made a mistake, but nothing goes neatly in a
fight so she changed plans on the fly and pulled him over her hip and dumped
him on the ground, trying to put a little extra spice in it.<span> </span>He wuffed but scrambled back up and came in
again.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>She stepped
into his left knee and threw her weight against it, like she was trying to
stomp-start a stubborn panhead on a cold morning. <span> </span>His legs were tougher than they looked because
it didn’t snap and fold in, but he still started down and met Morgan’s knee
coming up, catching him in the jaw instead of the throat because things get
messy.<span> </span>It still didn’t do him a whole
lot of good, though.<span> </span>He heaved up a
second, scrambling on all fours and trying not to go down, and she was on him,
smacking him in the side of the head.<span> </span>When
he grabbed at her she tried to hook his arm so she could trap it and snap it,
but he was too strong and kept stripping it away before she could get a good
grip on it. <span> </span>Morgan snarled in
frustration, really wanting to break Marcus’s elbow. <span> </span>She’d had her heart set on wrecking the arm
that he’d hit Paul with, but he just wasn’t providing the opportunity.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">When he started trying for her leg a
chill went through her and she stepped away, not risking anything she didn’t
have to.<span> </span>It was a move she’d been
looking for: a guy like that would want to scoop her up and throw her down and
she couldn’t have that; it’d be over.<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">If she had to go to the ground, she
needed to take him with her. Morgan had trained with an old wrestling
“shooter,” a really brutal mean old sonofabitch who’d delighted in teaching her
everything when he’d seen how well a girl could take to it, so if she and
Marcus went to the pavement she’d know what to do, and she could probably take
out that elbow.<span> </span>But it was better to
avoid that situation with a guy a lot stronger than her, so she hung back and
watched him.<span> </span>Marcus got to one knee and
tried to get up, but a kick in the ear sent him to the asphalt and then she
sailed her steel-toed motorcycle boots into him hard, trying to kick something
on the other side of him, letting him get in the way.<span> </span>He whuffed and she felt ribs give and his
squeak made her laugh.<span> </span>She wanted to
feel him cave in and snap in half, but he had too much beef wiring him
together.<span> </span>He was hurt, though, damn sure
hurt.<span> </span>Then she sat back on the
motorcycle and caught her breath while she watched him writhe.<span> </span>She enjoyed it so much that she was almost
ashamed of her sadism.<span> </span>She loved doing
this so much she worried there was really something wrong with her.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Groaning,
he looked up at her.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
worked some spit around in her mouth and sent it at his face.<span> </span>She missed and it slid down his arm, making
some poorly-inked prison bars shiny.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Hope
you realize how nice I’m being, not still stomping you,” she said, taking out
her buck knife, snapping it open just to show him how fast that could happen. <span> </span>“Or gutting you with this.<span> </span>I could be doing all sorts of real nasty shit
I’m just not doing.<span> </span>I am being one
hundred percent sweetgirl right now.”<span>
</span>She spun the knife, closed it, and put it back.<span> </span>“And that’s in hopes you figure out there’s
nasty shit you don’t have to do, either.<span>
</span>You crawl back to that nice car you did such mean things to with the
paint you found at the pistachio ice cream billboard factory and you go
somewhere the fuck else.<span> </span>Leave that kid
and his mom alone.<span> </span>Or I’ll forget how to
be sweet.<span> </span>Being cool is over.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Marcus
lay frozen, afraid.<span> </span>She wasn’t sure if
it was enough fear to stick for good, but he wasn’t going to look at her as
just a “girl” anymore.<span> </span>The surprise
element was gone, so next time she’d probably need the knife.<span> </span>Or double her order from Cowboy.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He
started to get up and she kicked him in the side of the neck, rolling him back
over.<span> </span>“Uh-uh.<span> </span>You get up when I say you can get up.<span> </span>Or you’re gonna eat my boots instead of just
your pride.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He
scooted back, out of her reach, rubbing his neck, rotating it, stretching his
arm, seeing if everything still worked.<span>
</span>“You’re making a mistake, bitch.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“One of
us is.<span> </span>And I don’t walk like I’ve been
in a lunch line every day for five-to-ten so who’s got the history of making
big ones?<span> </span>You’re tatted up bragging you
were there.<span> </span>Me, if I ever let a cop pull
me over it’s because I wanted to take his gun.<span>
</span>Now, we’re done playing. <span> </span>Get
up.<span> </span>And get in that car and go somewhere
else until you don’t feel anything that needs takin’ out on somebody, or I will
rise up and block out the sun for you, motherfucker. <span> </span>I’ll cut a door in you, kick it in, and walk
through it.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He stood
up.<span> </span>For a second he didn’t look like he
could stay vertical.<span> </span>“You talk a lot.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I don’t
have to,” she shrugged.<span> </span>“Only talking
because I still think there’s a chance you might listen.<span> </span>You should hope I don’t shut up.”<span> </span>She knew he was considering another charge
at her, in which case she’d start sticking him, but a step on that leg made him
decide not to, and he limped back toward the house.<span> </span>He stopped beside the car a minute, making up
his mind again, then got into it and drove away.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
let out a breath and made her pulse slow down.<span>
</span>It had taken as much effort to let no fear show as it had anything else,
but without the display of utter calm he probably would have tried again.<span> </span>A lot of guys didn’t respect a woman’s
abilities even after she’d dropped them on their heads.<span> </span>Their pride needed to think it was just luck.
<span> </span>And pride would almost certainly not
allow him to just live with having gotten his ass kicked.<span> </span>He had fear now, but when it faded a bit,
pride would overpower it and he’d come at her. <span> </span>Stupid-making thing, pride.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Even stupider
thing, him thinking she was ever lucky.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div style="border-bottom: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; border: medium none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1pt;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> *******************</span></span></p>
</div><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Hey
there, buhhh-dee,” Cowboy said as Morgan slid into the booth across from
her.<span> </span>“How’s things with the other half
of the Fabulous Janes?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Fair to
middlin’,”<span> </span>Morgan settled back in the
booth.<span> </span>“How’s your end?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Holdin’
it up.<span> </span>I got your stuff.<span> </span>Not on me, back at the ranch.<span> </span>My conniving way of getting you to come back
over and do some more shooting with me.<span>
</span>That was fun and I want more!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah,
don’t think you’ll have to twist my arm.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Good,
‘cuz I’m pretty sure I couldn’t.<span> </span>You got
some guns on you for a bitch of the species.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“World’s
mostly made up of people I want to be able to whup.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Ain’t
that the damn truth?<span> </span>For a while I
pumped iron hoping I’d get big enough to hit my dad back, but I figured that
wouldn’t work, so I just moved out.<span> </span>My
brother, he tried it, got a scar that chopped his eyebrow all up.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You had
one of those too, huh?<span> </span>Never met a bad
girl with a<span> </span>good daddy.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Hey,
now, I’m not <i>bad</i>.<span> </span>I just deal in
illegal firearms,” Cowboy laughed.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah, I
sell Girl Scout cookies myself.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Two
boxes of thin mints, please.<span> </span>Oh shit,
you done made me think about ‘em and now I want some.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Sorry.<span> </span>Speaking of people with bad daddies, I wonder
if I could ask you kind of an odd favor.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Cowboy
raised her eyebrows, twisted her mouth to the side, and waited.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I know
this kid.<span> </span>His mom’s boyfriend… aaaaggh,
he fuckin’ sucks.<span> </span>She doesn’t like him
much, either, but they’re having some trouble shaking him.<span> </span>He’s one of those possessive assholes.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“And you
want me to split his head in two with a lawnmower blade,” Cowboy said, making
her voice deep.<span> </span>“Mmm-hmmm.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“That
ain’t a bad idea, but… what?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Cowboy
stared at her.<span> </span>“<i>Sling Blade</i>. Oh
my god, you’ve never seen <i>Sling Blade?</i>”<span>
</span>Cowboy stared with her mouth open.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I’m
guessing that’s a movie.<span> </span>I’ve hardly
seen any movies.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Oh,
hon, you gotta see <i>Sling Blade</i>.<span>
</span>That’s mandatory, I will not allow this.<span>
</span>Okay, after we shoot you’re staying for dinner and then we’re watching <i>Sling
Blade</i>.<span> </span>Even though I fucked up and
spoiled a plot point.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
shrugged.<span> </span>“If you want.<span> </span>I’ve got no plans.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Good.<span> </span>It gets lonesome over there with my brother
gone, tell ya the truth.<span> </span>And I enjoy
your company.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I don’t
hear that much, but, ‘tiz mutual.<span> </span>And I
say that even less than I hear it.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Cowboy
smiled.<span> </span>“So, this kid?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah.<span> </span>I won’t be around town much longer and I’d
like him to have somebody he could call, y’know?<span> </span>If shit gets too deep.<span> </span>He’ll probably never call, but would you mind
if I gave him your number?<span> </span>You don’t
have to kill anybody, just maybe come get him, see he’s okay.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Sure.<span> </span>I’ll look after him if need be.<span> </span>I’ve even got an old lawnmower blade around
someplace.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
smiled.<span> </span>“I’m not asking that of
you.<span> </span>He’s a real sweet little guy,
though.<span> </span>Um, I don’t know if this
matters, but he’s black.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Cowboy
blinked.<span> </span>“I’m a hick, Jane, but I ain’t
that kind of hick.<span> </span>For a while I thought
I might have some black kids myself, but me and the guy couldn’t work it out.<span> </span>That’s not an issue, not with me.<span> </span>It is with my brother, a little bit, since
he’s been in prison and prison forces that crap, but he wouldn’t hold it
against any kid.<span> </span>How old’s he?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“About
eight.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah,
my brother’d take him fishing, play catch with him.<span> </span>He loves any kid.<span> </span>And he probably won’t be around anyway,
though.<span> </span>He caught the book and if it
requires good behavior to get out early, no member of my family’s getting out
early.<span> </span>So, what you gonna do to the
boyfriend?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Me?<span> </span>Nothin’.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Cowboy
gave Morgan a look.<span> </span>“Uh-huh, if you say
so.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I say
so.<span> </span>And I’ll keep saying so until the
statue of limitations runs out.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Generous
of you to confine yourself to things that have a statute of limitations.<span> </span>I can get you another Detonics barrel
otherwise, if you need it.<span> </span>I don’t mind.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Mind a
sawed-off .12 gauge?”<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Cowboy
stared at her.<span> </span>One of her green eyes had
an amber spot in it, Morgan noticed, like a drip of ink diffusing.<span> </span>“Jane…”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yaaasss?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“What’re
you planning, you crazy bitch?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“To get
me a cool-ass shotgun?”<span> </span>Morgan raised
her eyebrows and tried to look innocent, more her way of telling a joke than
anything she expected Cowboy to buy.<span>
</span>Cowboy didn’t know her, but she knew her type.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You
realize if I had knowledge of a homicide about to happen, it would be
imperative upon me to go to the authorities,”<span>
</span>Cowboy said, “and tell them that you were over at my place watching <i>Tombstone</i>
when it occurred.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
smiled with just her eyes<span> </span>“Better pick a
different movie, I haven’t seen <i>Tombstone</i> either.” </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Fuck!<span> </span><i>Fuck</i>, Jane, you kill me.<span> </span>Oh, hell no.<span>
</span>Haven’t seen <i>Tombstone?</i><span> </span>I
can’t do business with you, girl, you’re just wrong.<span> </span>You’re from space or some shit.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
shrugged.<span> </span>“You’ve been on my bike so
you’ve been to my house.<span> </span>There’s no
TV.<span> </span>I’ve been too nomadic and busy to
have seen many movies.<span> </span>If you tell ‘em
we were reading a book together I can maybe cover it.<span> </span>Done a lot of books.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Cowboy
sighed and shook her head.<span> </span>“I was sent
by the angels to make sure you see <i>Sling Blade</i> and <i>Tombstone</i>.<span> </span>I watch a lotta-lotta movies out there by
myself, and <i>Tombstone</i> is my favorite, favorite, <i>favorite</i>
one.<span> </span>It hurts me, <i>hurts</i> me, that
you haven’t seen it.<span> </span>You know what it’s
about, at least?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah,
the Earps and the Clantons.<span> </span>I’ve read
books on that.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“There’s
books?”<span> </span>Cowboy blinked, teasingly.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I’m
nobody’s angel sent to do anything, but bring up Amazon and I’ll find you the
good ones.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Since
you’re not going to <i>do anything</i> with it, pinky swear,” Cowboy said,
giving her a look, “what kind of scattergun you looking for?<span> </span>Double-barrel, pump, or just anything where
you don’t have to worry about ballistic tracing being a factor?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“That
one, the last one.” </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Cowboy
sighed and shook her head.<span> </span>“You are
trouble.<span> </span>I feel like I should be talking
you out of something, but that’s not my business.<span> </span>Yeah, I could fit you out.<span> </span>Give you an old Mossberg cheap because I hate
the damn things and taking a hacksaw to one wouldn’t hurt my feelings
much.<span> </span>Five hundred.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Sounds
like a bargain for an under the table.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Cowboy
shrugged.<span> </span>“It is, but we’ve got too many
shotguns.<span> </span>It’s not my place, but I do
hope this is a plan B for you, not a plan A.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“It’s
more around plan L, M, N, O, P.<span> </span>Plan
A’s always dynamite.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Cowboy
laughed.<span> </span>“You’re a trip.<span> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Problem is, you’re probably the long and black
and don’t-come-back kind. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that’s one
I don’t want to go on</span></span>, so Johnny Law
finds that boomstick on you then I’ve never seen nor heard of any such a thing.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Who are
you?<span> </span>I’ve never even been in this
place.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Cowboy
nodded.<span> </span>“If I couldn’t count on that I
wouldn’t sell you so much as a frickin’ slingshot.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div style="border-bottom: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; border: medium none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1pt;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> *******************</span></span></p>
</div><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>A couple
of days later, Morgan slung a leg off her bike and a doll-sized green dune
buggy rattled up the street at her.<span> </span>She
watched it whine along, bounce over rocks, stop, correct, aim, rev, and run
into her boot.<span> </span>She looked around and
spotted Paul crouching under a bush, laughing.<span>
</span>“Okay, smart guy, what’s the idea of trying to run me over?<span> </span>I thought you ‘n’ me was friends,” she said.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“It
won’t hurt you.<span> </span>I ran it into myself a
bunch of times,” he said, laughing, crawling out from the bush.<span> </span>“You want to drive it?”<span> </span>He held the control box out to her.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Hell
yeah I want to drive it.<span> </span>It looks cool
as hell,” she said, noticing a new band-aid on the edge of his eyebrow,
thinking <i>it looks like the kind of cool-as-hell thing your mom buys you
after somebody’s been real shitty to you and she doesn’t know what else to do
about it</i>. <i><span> </span>Thinking you can
balance the scales when the only thing that works is taking the damn weight
off.</i><span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Marcus,
apparently, didn’t listen too good.<span> </span>And
that chilled her because it meant she’d have to get louder.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
took the box and said, “Show me what to do, this looks complicated.<span> </span>I’m not sure I’m smart enough.”<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>She crouched
down and Paul showed her forward, reverse, how to control the speed.<span> </span>The little steering wheel was
self-explanatory.<span> </span>Morgan could have
figured it all out by the labeling but Paul was proud of being the one who was
able to explain something, so she played dense.<span>
</span>She made the dune buggy gun up the street, turn, and come back, then
handed the controls back to Paul.<span> </span>“You
better do the driving, bud.<span> </span>You know
what you’re doing more than I do.<span> </span>I’ll
just watch.<span> </span>Impress me.”<span> </span>She sat down on the curb and Paul sat beside
her and did a few tricks, making it jump off a cardboard ramp and zoom past
them and go into a power-slide.<span> </span>He’d
obviously been practicing with it.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Eventually
it started slowing down and the whine dropped an octave.<span> </span>“Aw, man, I think the batteries are wearing
out,” Paul said, watching it stutter back to them.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Pop ‘em
out and put ‘em back in, sometimes you can get a little extra juice that
way.”<span> </span>He opened it up and pried the
batteries out, and she couldn’t stop looking at the band-aid.<span> </span>Left eyebrow, right where a right-handed
Marcus would smack a kid.<span> </span><i>Fuck</i>, <i>I
wish I’d broken that arm</i>.<span> </span>She felt
cold inside, and tense, like she was trapped, sad and mad and thinking about her
shotgun.<span> </span>The batteries were big fat D’s,
the heavy kind, and she thought about them, too.<span> </span>Paul fit them back it, bu the buggy only
twitched along.<span> </span>He sighed.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Tell
you what,” Morgan said, squeezing his shoulder.<span>
</span>“I need some dead batteries.<span> </span>I’ll
get you some new ones and trade you.<span>
</span>Deal?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Sure!<span> </span>But what do you need dead batteries for?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I need
weights.<span> </span>Like, fishing weights.<span> </span>Sinkers, you know?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Nuh-uh.<span> </span>What’s that?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“When
you go fishing, the weights drag the line down, takes the bait to where the
fish are.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You use
batteries for that?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I
do.<span> </span>But I’m a weirdo.”<span> </span>She widened her eyes and puffed her lips like
a fish.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He
laughed.<span> </span>“You go fishing?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
made a face.<span> </span>“Not really, but Cowboy –
you remember I told you about her?<span> </span>She
wants me to go.<span> </span>So I could really use
some batteries.”<span> </span>Morgan felt bad for
lying to the kid but thought she was really good at it, as always.<span> </span>She did have a use for the batteries, but it
had nothing to do with fishing.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Is
fishing fun?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah,
it’s okay.<span> </span>Not real exciting.<span> </span>You just sit there holding a pole most of the
time.<span> </span>A lot of the time nothing happens,
you just sit there.<span> </span>How fun it is kinda
depends on who you go with.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I bet
it’d be fun if you and me went,” he said.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I <i>know</i>
it would, dude.”<span> </span>She squeezed his
shoulder, getting madder at the sight of that band-aid.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“We can
just sit here and it’s fun.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yep.<span> </span>I like it.<span>
</span>Won’t catch any fish, but other than that it’s the same.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I don’t
want to hurt any fish anyhow,” he said, shrugging.<span> </span>“We could just sit here and leave the fish
alone.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Being
left alone’s pretty good.<span> </span>Even for fish,
I bet.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He
nodded.<span> </span>“I wasn’t trying to run over
you.<span> </span>I was just playing.<span> </span>I knew it wouldn’t hurt you or I wouldn’t
drive into you.<span> </span>I didn’t want to hurt
your feelings,either.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You
didn’t,” she laughed.<span> </span>“I was just
teasing.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I
know.<span> </span>I just wanted to make sure.<span> </span>I like you and stuff.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I like
you and stuff too.”<span> </span>She stared out at
the street.<span> </span>Feelings climbed up her
throat.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You
d-don’t think I’m s-stupid.”<span> </span>He pulled
his fingers.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I <i>know</i>
you’re not stupid.<span> </span>Anybody who thinks
you’re stupid?<span> </span><i>They’re</i>
stupid.<span> </span>I know stupid and you aren’t
it.<span> </span>Not even close.<span> </span>You can’t even <i>see</i> stupid from where
you are, bud.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He
looked at her.<span> </span>She looked back.<span> </span>He yanked at his fingers.<span> </span>“My mom says it’s bad to hate people.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
shrugged. “It’s bad to <i>have</i> to hate people.<span> </span>And it’s bad to hate people for no
reason.<span> </span>But if somebody’s really mean to
you it’s okay to hate ‘em.<span> </span>I don’t mean,
like, your mom telling you you can’t stay up late or you gotta eat your peas or
something.<span> </span>Don’t hate over that.<span> </span>But if somebody hits you, or always tells you
you’re stupid – especially when you’re eight and haven’t had time to learn
everything – then it’s normal to hate ‘em.<span>
</span>Some people you gotta hate to keep liking yourself.<span> </span>And you should like yourself.<span> </span>You can get away from everyone else.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He
gnawed on his lip.<span> </span>“You hate anybody?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I have
before, yeah.”<span> </span>She sighed and rubbed her
hands together, looking up and down the street for a minute, then looked back
at him.<span> </span>“I hated my dad and my uncle.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“They
were mean to you?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>She
nodded.<span> </span>“Real mean.<span> </span>Used to tell me I was stupid. <span> </span>Used to beat me up a lot.<span> </span>For nothing.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>She
nodded.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Paul
frowned.<span> </span>“Thinking about hitting you
makes me want to throw up.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
smiled, swallowing hard.<span> </span>“That’s because
you’re a good dude.<span> </span>You don’t want to be
mean.<span> </span>Stay that way, okay?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Okay.<span> </span>You got away from your dad and uncle?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah.<span> </span>Took a long time, but they’re gone and I’m
not.<span> </span>I win.”<span> </span>She threw her arms out, triumphant.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He
nodded, twisting his mouth around, thinking.<span>
</span>Then he smiled.<span> </span>“Anyway, I
wouldn’t hate over peas.<span> </span>I like peas!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>She
laughed.<span> </span>“Me too!<span> </span>I just needed an example.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I
mostly like the green ones.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah,
English peas.<span> </span>They’re English be-caws
they tok like this.<span> </span>Say, guv-nah, I want
a spot of tay!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He
giggled.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah.<span> </span>And the black-eyed peas are peas that have
been in a fight.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He
laughed harder.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
poked him.<span> </span>“You’re not dumb, but you
laugh at dumb jokes.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Hey,
I’m eight.<span> </span>I haven’t had time to learn
the good ones.<span> </span>Gimme a break,
lady.”<span> </span>He poked her back.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>She
laughed.<span> </span>“That’s lucky for me, because
dumb jokes are the only kind I can make up.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I know
one.<span> </span>Knock knock.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Oh
no.<span> </span>Okay, who’s there?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“The
interrupting cow.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“The
inter…”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“MOOOOO!”<span> </span>He leapt at her a little, eyes wide.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
laughed, genuinely, and Paul was pleased.<span>
</span>“I thought you’d have heard that one.<span>
</span>It’s real old.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Well, I
never heard it,” she laughed.<span> </span>“The only
kind people ever tell me are dirty jokes.<span>
</span>And most of those aren’t as funny as that one.”<span> </span>She was still laughing.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I know
a couple of those.<span> </span>Wouldn’t tell ‘em to
a girl, though.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Sexist,
but I appreciate it.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I wish
you’d live here.” </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Sorry,
bud.<span> </span>I’m not here much longer.<span> </span>But I might come back and visit sometimes,
though.<span> </span>I come back through areas
sometimes, and I won’t forget you.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You
stop here whenever you’re around, then.”<span>
</span>He looked at her so she’d know he meant it.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Will
do.”<span> </span>She looked back, just as
meaning-it.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“’Cuz
I’ll miss you.”<span> </span>He looked down.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I’ll
miss you, too.<span> </span>But I’m not gone
yet.<span> </span>I’ll be around a few days. <span> </span>Let’s not miss before we have to.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He
twisted his mouth and nodded.<span> </span>Morgan
thought that if everything worked out, if she came through again she could
crash with Paul and his mom, because Marcus wasn’t going to be around.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Paul was
quiet for a minute, then got up and found a couple of sticks.<span> </span>He handed her one and and then spent an hour
on the curb, fishing.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Or Paul
did.<span> </span>Morgan was already hunting.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div style="border-bottom: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; border: medium none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1pt;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> *******************</span></span></p>
</div><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
sat out on the front steps of her rented room, waiting.<span> </span>To be a good predator, first you have to
learn patience, and Morgan was exceptionally good at waiting.<span> </span>She sat and watched and re-read books in her
head to pass the time.<span> </span>She’d memorized a
lot of things and used quiet moments to freshen the memories up, like tending a
garden.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>She
heard the bubbling exhaust long before she saw the Olds.<span> </span>She knew well what a 442 sounded like; she’d
driven them, helped soup them up ever since she was a little older than Paul.<span> </span>Adrenaline kicked in right as she heard the
sound, and she got up and walked to the street, tugging on her gloves.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>The big
green Olds ground the gravel and stopped, and Marcus started to come out of the
car at her but she leaned on the door and smiled crazily in at him.<span> </span>“Hiya, fuckface.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I
thought I told you to get out of here, you cunt!” Marcus snarled.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“And I thought
I made it real-real clear I don’t take orders from no pumped-up prison
pass-around.”<span> </span>She smirked, watching for
a chance.<span> </span>If she could get him out of
the car it’d be his own dumb fault.<span> </span>If
he just shot her in the street, it’d be hers.<span>
</span>Fear was there but she felt clear.<span>
</span>After last time, Marcus would have plenty of fear himself.<span> </span>She saw it in his eyes, but not as much as
she wanted.<span> </span>“Surprised you’re even
talking to me instead of tucking tail and hauling, you big ugly punk.<span> </span>Since you’re here, though, let’s go for a
ride.<span> </span>I’ll drive.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You out
your damn mind.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
sighed and rolled her eyes.<span> </span>“That’s what
the psychiatrists keep telling me.<span> </span>I
don’t believe ‘em, though, they’re all out to get me.<span> </span>Hey, how’s your leg?<span> </span>And ribs?<span>
</span>And sense of manhood?”<span> </span>She
laughed.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You
goddamn bitch, I’m gonna…” he snarled, shoving open the door.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Gonna
gonna gonna,” Morgan said, “everybody’s always gonna.”<span> </span>She blinked and smiled, then her arm flew up
like she was sowing corn in a field, the sock she’d been dangling behind her
leg flying up like a magic trick.<span>
</span>Presto!.<span> </span>It met his face with a
sharp CLACK that might’ve been the batteries hitting each other, or might have
been his teeth, or his jaw going into halves.<span>
</span>His hands flew up to his mouth and clamped there and he roared an
“OOOOO!” sound of agony.<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
saw a gun sticking out of his waistband in the back, but he’d forgotten he even
had it; he wasn’t thinking about anything now but his mouth.<span> </span>Morgan whipped the sock back around, hard
across his eyes, and he reached out to grab the car’s doorframe to keep from
falling out into the street.<span> </span>That’s when
she threw herself against the door and slammed it hard on his hand.<span> </span>Marcus howled and caught another lash of
batteries across his mouth, and she shoved him back into the car.<span> </span>He rolled over onto the seat, trying to get
up, and she yanked the pistol out of his waistband.<span> </span>A Glock, of course.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You
were gonna something?” Morgan asked, and gave him a few more whacks with the batteries, and that dropped
him in the floorboard.<span> </span>He was likely
already out but she cracked him a few more to make sure he’d stay there;<span> </span>he was a big bastard and she didn’t want to
deal with him.<span> </span>She lifted his hands to
the dashboard and gave them a few solid battery-shots, too, just to make sure
they wouldn’t work so good if he came back from where the batteries sent him.<span> </span>For her own satisfaction, she clamped his
right arm and wrenched, forcing the elbow back against its joint until it <span> </span>cracked and gave sickeningly. <span> </span>“Now I’m gonna.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>She put
the gun on the dash and muscled him over into the passenger seat.<span> </span>The angle was awkward and she strained her
back a bit, but he balled up into the floorboard, out of view.<span> </span>Good.<span>
</span>She took a quick glance up and down the street to see if anyone had
noticed, but there was nobody out.<span> </span>Far,
far off some guy was tending his yard, but his back was to her and he hadn’t
noticed anything.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
slid into the driver’s seat and jammed her hair under the baseball cap she
pulled from her pocket.<span> </span>Marcus’s windows
were all tinted, but they might get shot out or cash out in a crash; there was
no sense risking anything more than she had to.<span>
</span>She looked over at him again, noticing he was bleeding pretty good and
snoring through a nose that wasn’t really a nose so much as a barely-adequate
breathing hole now.<span> </span>He’d be no
trouble.<span> </span>She put the Olds in gear and
pulled out, not being flashy, not wanting to attract notice.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Once out
of the neighborhood she ran through the gears, getting a feel for what the old
tank would do.<span> </span>Not bad.<span> </span>He didn’t know much about a suspension, too
much engine for the carriage, but she’d make it work.<span> </span>She’d have to underplay corners more than she
usually did, but the mill wasn’t all just show, baby could move.<span> </span>From the sound she’d bet there were dual
four-barrel carbs under that hood.<span>
</span>Heading for the route she’d scouted several times on her bike, she
pressed her foot to the firewall and speed glued her pleasantly to the seat,
shaking her unconscious companion further into the floor board.<span> </span>“You’re going to miss a lot of fun, scumbag,”
she laughed, all eyes and hands now.<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>She
topped a hill and saw the town laid out before her. <span> </span>She breathed deeply, looking at it.<span> </span>She was about to hit it like a bomb. <span> </span>There was a murmur under the engine’s rumble
and she figured out the stereo was on.<span> </span>Turning
it up she recognized AC/DC, which made her want to laugh.<span> </span>AC/DC seemed to follow her around; it had
been playing last time she’d done something crimey.<span> </span>The guitar was perfect, speaking of something
building, a prologue to something big.<span>
</span>As she started working through the gears to feel them out the music
picked up and she laughed, feeling like she had a partner.<span> </span><i>Cooperate with me, AC/DC, my old friends.</i>
<span> </span>She was moving fast now, flashing
through traffic, finding holes and filling them and then on to the next one.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>She
pulled next to a guy in a new Challenger who looked at the Olds and
revved.<span> </span>She laughed.<span> </span>A little cap-sunglasses-beard boy trying to
posture, his car all tricked out with noisy glasspacks, screaming “look at me,
look at me!”<span> </span>He was a joke, the noise
one big clown-horn to make sure everyone in town knew where he was while he was
playing bad-dude.<span> </span>The real bad dudes
didn’t want attention.<span> </span>They wanted to <i>not</i>
be noticed, they wanted to be underestimated.<span>
</span>They didn’t go around waving knives because they didn’t want you to even
know they had one until you <i>felt</i> it going in.<span> </span>If this Olds belonged to Morgan, it would be
dead grey instead of bright pistachio green.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Bon
Scott’s voice yowled out of the speakers, <i>“Out of my way I’m a-runnin’ high,
take a chance with me and give it a try.”</i></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span></span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;">“HA!” she laughed, slapping the wheel,
officially in dangerous violation of the speed limit now, loving what the car
could do.<span> </span>She shot past the Challenger,
and the Cadillac in front of her put on its brakes and she quickly cut in front
of the Challenger with inches to spare and pressed the gas, zooming around the
Caddy and…</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span><i>“WHOOOOOA,
baby, I ain’t got much, resistance to your touch.”</i> Bon continued.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>That’s
for sure,</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;"> Morgan
thought. <i>She handles beauty, this big ol’ bitch.<span> </span>My perfect partner in crime.</i></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span><i>“I
wanna walk all over you, Walk all over you.”</i></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Exactly
what she planned on doing to this town’s cops.<span>
</span>Walk all the fuck all over ‘em in heavy boots, and send Marcus the bill
for every stomp.<span> </span>The guitar tore into a
hard and fast riff and she was driving to it, feeling it.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>They
were in town traffic now, doing eighty in a thirty-five, and Morgan juked it
through a red light, causing a lot of screeching brakes from the cars
around.<span> </span>She pursed her lips in
concentration and weaved past other cars, cutting through traffic tight enough
to cause panic in drivers who weren’t as good at this as she was.<span> </span>Horns were going off, and probably a few cell
phones, too.<span> </span>Oh, Marcus was noticed all
right, driving like a for-real asshole, and it wouldn’t be long now before the
big blue fellas started showing up and mad as hell.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>She
hauled past a blur of commerce, McDonald’s-Wendy’s-Denny’s-CVS-some bank-some
clothes shop, weaving past traffic, quickly checking the next intersection,
deciding it was do-able, and blowing through another red light.<span> </span>“Traffic lights are like good advice, Marc,”
she said, “you don’t <i>have</i> to take it.”<span>
</span>More brakes, more horns, and she laughed and wondered if maybe a guy
who’d once called her a psychopath had been onto something, because <i>fuck</i>
but she was having a good time. </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Up ahead
she saw a sherrif’s deputy and smiled.<span>
</span>“Well, hello there, Mr. Officer Man. <span> </span>Hope you’re up for some shit.<span> </span>Time to get our skedaddle on, Marcus,” she
yelled.<span> </span>“Beep-beep-zip-tang!”<span> </span>She tromped on the gas, roaring past the cop
car at all-out.<span> </span>A glance in the rear
view showed blue lights coming on and a siren whooped and Morgan took a deep
breath.<span> </span>She’d found a playmate with a
radio and soon there’d be more.<span> </span>As he
fell in behind her she juked the wheel from side to side, shaking the Old’s ass
at the pol-leese.<span> </span>Nothin’ bad boys chase
harder than a sassy bitch.<span> </span><i>Come and
get me</i>.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Compensating
for some inadequacies in the wheelbase, Morgan whipped the big car into a side
street and high-tailed it.<span> </span>A glance at
her passenger showed he was still wherever good blunt-trauma sent you.<span> </span>Maybe he was dying from a brain-case bleed,
but that’d suit her, too, she really didn’t give a fuck.<span> </span>Far behind her the blue lights made the
corner and Morgan eased off the gas just a little; small-town cops usually
weren’t much and she didn’t want to lose him completely.<span> </span>She wished she had a police band radio like
she’d had in her whiskey-runners when she was a kid.<span> </span>It was always fun<span> </span>listening to the pigs scramble to put a
strategy together when they were faced with the kind of fuck-with she laid on
them.<span> </span>Also, she really didn’t want to
foul this up and actually get caught.<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Making
sure the deputy would have a chance to see her do it, she hooked into another
side street and zoomed through a shady neighborhood she’d scouted a few days
ago.<span> </span>It was an old-people neighborhood,
nobody likely to be in the street, but she kept the speed down enough to
account for any surprises, anyway.<span> </span>This
was supposed to be Marcus’s bad day, nobody else’s.<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>AC/DC
was roaring now and Morgan was calm, cool, alert but not keyed up.<span> </span>All eyes and hands, doing the thing she was
best at.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>She
rounded a tree-heavy corner and pulled into a driveway, waiting.<span> </span>In a few seconds the deputy flew past and she backed out and then
whipped in behind him, peeling Goodyear skin and making the engine roar with
fury, filling his re-view mirror and then blowing past him, juking the rear end
again, all mad-making smartass.<span> </span>“Oh,
Marcus, you are making these boys <i>furious!</i>” she said.<span> </span>“You are being such a BAD boy, you are just
CRAZY!” she laughed, then put the Olds into a long skating slide and came back
at the deputy, sending him into the ditch.<span>
</span>She checked the rear-view and saw him struggle into a U-turn, scattering
mud.<span> </span>He really wasn’t very good.<span> </span>He’d have to lie a lot if he bragged about
this.<span> </span>Have to lie a lot even if he
didn’t.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Up ahead
she saw more blue lights and cut a guy off as she turned into an
intersection.<span> </span>Things would be getting
thicker now, more intense, less fun, risk going way up.<span> </span>These Podunk cops likely didn’t have the kind
of experience needed to deal with a driver like her, but there’d be several of
them now, networked by radio, and they’d be stunk-up with attitude, mad as hell
and showing off for each other, shit to prove.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
barked some curb and saw blue lights in the mirror, then more.<span> </span>She stepped on the gas, building some
distance to work with, blowing through stop signs, counting on the sirens and
the Old’s thundering 442 to warn people off.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Squealling
sideways into another corner she saw a unit already waiting.<span> </span>A cop was standing beside it, ready to throw
out a line of tire spikes.<span> </span>“Fuck,” she
growled, slamming on the brakes and feeling a chill, stopping just short of the
spikes as the guy tossed his line.<span> </span>Blue
lights were coming up behind.<span> </span>“Okay,
assholes, here we go, “ she said, putting it in reverse and looking back over
the seat, zooming backward through the intersection, noticing two other cop
cars heading in from one of the side roads.<span>
</span>There were at least half a dozen involved now.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>She
cranked the wheel hard to the left and felt the
car slew hard around in a Rockford.<span> </span>Once
it had one-eightied she flat-shifted forward and
tromped the pedal to the floor.<span> </span>The rear
shimmied, overpowering.<span> </span>She ran through gears, gauging RPMs by ear and by feel.<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Three
cops back there now and she played chicken with another who slewed into the
ditch.<span> </span>More were coming up a side street,
trying to box her in.<span> </span>“Fuck, fuck, <i>fuck</i>,”
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</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>The Olds
caught some air at the top of a hill and came down hard, leaving sparks and
dumping Marcus even further into the floorboard.<span> </span>The car rolled on, not feeling quite right,
making a sh-sh-sh scraping sound.<span> </span>It was
handling like a wheelbarrow now, rattling her, but still fast, oh yeah, still
way fast.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>She
plowed through a turn and headed out into the country, opened up wide.<span> </span>She bought a little time through high speed
but the cops weren’t as far behind as she’d like.<span> </span>When her lifetime’s worth of burnt-out nerves
started feeling fear she knew it was time for exit strategies, and started looking
for a likely tree to stack the bitch into.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>There,
on the edge of a pond, a big dead oak.<span>
</span>Slamming on the brakes, she steered toward it and left the road, mud and
sod roostertailing as she tried to slow enough.<span>
</span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
ducked down across the seat and the Olds hit the tree harder than she wanted it
to, rattling her hard against the dash, but when it stopped, she figured she
wasn’t injured.<span> </span>Gonna be bruised like
the last banana in the store tomorrow, but bruising wasn’t injury by her
standards. <span> </span>Smoke buried the vehicle,
stinking of oil and antifreeze and <span> </span>transmission fluid all over the manifold. <span> </span>She was panting, breathing it in. <span> </span>“Sorry,” she said, talking to the car; fuck
Marcus.<span> </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Quickly,
shaking a little, she undid the belt, yanked hard on Marcus to drag him over
the seat, tossed his gun into his lap.<span>
</span>She pulled out her sock full of batteries and swung it hard into the
windshield from the inside, so it’d look like his head had hit it.<span> </span>AC/DC kept yowling, something about being
shot down in flames, playing along to the end.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You’re
gonna wake up and find out you’ve been really bad, Marcus.<span> </span>Good luck, motherfucker.<span> </span>At least they’ll think you’re a fuckin’-A
driver,” she said, then ducked out and ran into the bushes as the sirens grew
in the background.<span> </span>She ran through the
woods, hearing them getting louder.<span> </span>They’d
be focused on the wreck and whoever might be coming out of it, not looking for
an accomplice they didn’t know existed.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>When the
sirens were far enough off in the distance, she tossed the cap and the sock
full of batteries into an old drainpipe, then started walking through a
neighborhood.<span> </span>Taking out her cellphone,
she called Cowboy with a story about some guy giving her a ride and then
getting pissed off and stranding her at Subway.<span>
</span>It would sound like bullshit later on but Cowboy had dealt with enough
of her kind not to question things.<span>
</span>Morgan ordered a sub and sat and ate it, using the extra napkins to wipe
all the mud and pinestraw – evidence -- off her boots while she waited.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>When
Cowboy pulled up in her truck, the first thing Morgan said as she climbed in
was that she wanted to go watch <i>Tombstone.</i></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div style="border-bottom: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; border: medium none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1pt;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> *******************</span></span></p>
</div><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>On the
ride back from the hours spent at Cowboy’s there were still cop cars all over
town.<span> </span>In a small place where nothing
ever happens, when something <i>does</i> happen everyone expects something else
to happen, now that they realize it can.<span>
</span>Once stirred, small town sediment is slow to settle back into its bed of
dull mud.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Paul was
out on Morgan’s steps as Cowboy’s truck pulled up, and Morgan realized he’d
seen her bike, thought she was at home, and expected her to come out.<span> </span>“There’s the kid I want you to meet,” Morgan
said.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Cool
deal, let’s do it,” Cowboy said, shutting down the engine.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Jane!”<span> </span>Paul said, running to the truck as Morgan
stepped out.<span> </span>“Hi!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Hi
yourself.<span> </span>What’re you up to?”<span> </span>She handed him some batteries she’d picked up
at the same CVS she’d driven by earlier.<span>
</span>She’d gotten Cowboy to swing in so she could grab them; Morgan Stack was
one to keep promises, to the delight of some and the sorrow of many.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Nothing.<span> </span>Where have you been?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Watching
movies with Cowboy here.<span> </span>You ever see <i>Tombstone?”</i></span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah,
about five or eight times!<span> </span>I love it!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“See?”
Cowboy said, giving Morgan a little shove.<span>
</span>“Smart kid.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Okay,
I’m out of step with the world, big surprise.<span>
</span>Paul, this is Cowboy, Cowboy, this is Paul.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Hi,
Paul, how are you?” Cowboy said, crouching.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Hi!”
Paul said, starting to be shy but he looked at Morgan, then stuck out his hand.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You got
me wrong, I’m a hugger, not a handshaker,” Cowboy said, holding her arms
open.<span> </span>Paul hugged her.<span> </span>“Morgan has told me a lot about you.<span> </span>She says you are, like, the coolest dude
ever.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“She’s
teasin’,” Paul laughed.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“No I’m
not,” Morgan said.<span> </span>“Maybe there’s a
cooler dude someplace, but I haven’t met him and probably won’t.<span> </span>Hey, guess what Cowboy’s real name is.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Cowgirl?”
</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“It
ought to be, you’d figure,” Cowboy said.<span>
</span>“I think my brother must be nearsighted, calling me Cowboy.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah,”
Paul said.<span> </span>“So, what is it?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Jane,”
Morgan said.<span> </span>“You’ve got two friends
named Jane now.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah,
what’re you going to do?” Cowboy said.<span>
</span>“Gonna be confusing.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Guess
we have Cowboy Jane and Motorcycle Jane,” Paul said.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Good
solution, I love it,” Morgan said.<span> </span>“As
long as I get to be Motorcycle Jane.<span> </span>So,
what you been doing with your day?<span> </span>Not
sitting here the whole time, I hope.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“No, I
was trying to build a treehouse with my friend Mike.<span> </span>We suck at it, though, so we’re just going to
build it on the ground.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You’ll
be glad you did if you fall out,” Cowboy said.<span>
</span>Paul laughed. <span> </span>“Well, I am very
happy to meet you, Paul, but I better get on back to the ranch.<span> </span>I’ve got some horses need feeding.<span> </span>Jane – Motorcycle Jane – said you’ve never
met a horse.<span> </span>Would you like to,
sometime?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Sure!”
he said.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“And she
said you might want to go fishing.<span> </span>Maybe
you could come out sometime, if your mom says it’s okay.<span> </span>Or she could come with you.<span> </span>I like to show off my horses.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah,
that’d be cool!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I’ll
check back with you later, then, we’ll work something out.”<span> </span>She bumped fists with Paul and got back in
her truck.<span> </span>“Later days, Motorcycle Jane,
you come see me when you’re through again.<span>
</span>Be careful with yourself, don’t do the bad stuff.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
nodded and watched her drive off, into the sunset, like a cliché.<span> </span><span> </span>Paul
grabbed her hand.<span> </span>“We should go see her
horses tomorrow!” he said, and she flinched.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“That’d
be great, but I’m afraid I’ll have to do that some other time, bud.<span> </span>I’m going to be leaving in the morning.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Awww…”<span> </span>Paul said, and it was like the rug got pulled
out from under his happiness.<span> </span>Morgan
felt a deep ache, but Marcus would probably start talking, once they got his
mouth working, and if his ego could handle letting cops know a woman had
rag-dolled him like that, they’d be around.<span>
</span>So it was better if she wasn’t.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I know
it’s hard.<span> </span>But I’ve got a place I’ve got
to be,” Morgan said, sitting down on the curb, thinking, <i>and that place is
called away.<span> </span>Seems like I always have an
appointment there</i>.<span> </span>“I don’t want it
to make you sad.<span> </span>We’re still friends,
wherever I go.<span> </span>Distance ain’t distance.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Y-yeah,”
he said, pulling his fingers.<span> </span>He wiped
at an eye.<span> </span>“I just hoped you’d stay
longer.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I
know.<span> </span>I hoped so, too, but I got some
work and if I don’t go there now I’ll miss out.<span>
</span>Don’t want me to miss out, right?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“No.<span> </span>I’ll miss you, though.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I’ll
miss you, too.<span> </span>I’ll miss you big.<span> </span>You’re pretty much my favorite person.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You
too.”<span> </span>He looked down.<span> </span>“I wish I had a big sister like you.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You
do.”<span> </span>Morgan pointed at herself.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Paul
laughed, sniffling.<span> </span>“But you’re white
and I’m black!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
looked at her arms and feigned shock.<span>
</span>“Well I’ll be damned.<span> </span>Think that
matters?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I guess
not, no.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You got
a white mom, you can have a white sister.<span>
</span>So alright, then, little brother.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I’m not
that little, I’m eight,” he said, trying to joke, and god, did she appreciate
him for it.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah,
you’re big enough.<span> </span>Bigger than most
people I meet.<span> </span>Hey, you hugged
Cowboy.<span> </span>Got one for me?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“You
want one?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I think
I <i>need</i> one.”<span> </span>She clutched him and
held him for a minute even though it hurt her new bruises, and her eyes
stung.<span> </span>She was surprised to find that
could still happen.<span> </span>Usually the only
time she cried was when she woke up after nightmares that threw her back to when
she was six and her daddy and her uncle were still alive.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>She let
him go and he went to get his sticks and they “fished” until he got called in
for supper.<span> </span>It wasn’t long, but by then
it was dark and the bug noises were getting loud.<span> </span>Somehow that helped.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div style="border-bottom: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; border: medium none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1pt;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> *******************</span></span></p>
</div><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
got up before sunrise to load up her bike, hoping to sneak out and avoid
another goodbye.<span> </span>They were just too
fucking hard.<span> </span>Fights, car chases,
stabbings, shootings, fucking murder… she could handle all of that, her
inner-self had been well-trained for all of that and it made her feel nothing,
but this, damn, this was rough.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>And Paul
had gotten up earlier than her and was sitting on the front steps.<span> </span><i>Damn</i>.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He stood
up when he saw her.<span> </span>“Hey.<span> </span>I got you something to take with you,” he
said.<span> </span>“So you won’t forget me.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Little
brother, I will <i>never</i> forget you, that’s something you don’t have to
ever worry about.”<span> </span>She rubbed his head.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>He
laughed.<span> </span>“Anyway, here.”<span> </span>He handed her a book.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
laughed. “Captain Underpants!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“It’s a
good one, it’s really funny,” he said.<span>
</span>“It’s the best one.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Sure
you want to give it to me?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah!<span> </span>I can get another copy, I want you to have
it.<span> </span>You’ll laugh!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“And
what’s this, a drawing?” she asked, unfolding a sheet of magic-markered paper
that was tucked in the book.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Yeah, I
drew it.<span> </span>That’s me and that’s you.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Paul had
drawn himself the same size as her, and she liked that.<span> </span>Her Harley was beside them, the sun was out,
and they were holding hands.<span> </span>She had a
fishing pole in her other hand and he had a wrench.<span> </span>A comic-book balloon coming out of his mouth
said “MOO!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Oh my
god, I <i>love</i> this!<span> </span>I love it,
thank you!” Morgan laughed.<span> </span>“It’s
perfect!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Paul
laughed.<span> </span>“I hope everything will go good
where you’re going.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I hope
everything will go good here with you.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“It
might.<span> </span>The police took Marcus off.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“They
did?<span> </span>What’d he do?”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Drove
around like a crazy person and wrecked his car.<span>
</span>Mom says he was probably drunk.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Sounds
like it.<span> </span>Bet if he’d let you help him
work on his car he never would have wrecked it.<span>
</span>Anyway, I’m glad they got him. He was an asshole.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Paul
nodded.<span> </span>“I think it’s okay to hate him.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“We are
in agreement, little brother.<span> </span>Okay, big
hug now, I got to scoot.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Paul
hugged her hard.<span> </span>“You gotta come back sometime.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I’ll
make a point of it, since I have family to visit.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Maybe
if Marcus gets put in jail you can stay with Mom and me.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I would
love that.<span> </span>And I love <i>this</i>,”<span> </span>She patted the book and picture and stuffed
them in her saddlebag.<span> </span>“And I love you.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“I love
you, too,” he said.<span> </span>She stomped the
Harley to life and, with a wave, she left, into the sunrise.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div style="border-bottom: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; border: medium none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1pt;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> *******************</span></span></p>
</div><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Morgan
didn’t stop for anything but gas and a meal until she was in Florida.<span> </span>By then the feelings loosened up, and she
felt more like her mean cold bitch self, not having to love anyone.<span> </span>Much more comfortable.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Once she
got a room lined up, she walked around a park to get the road-ache out of her
legs.<span> </span>She was bruised and sore from
wrecking the Olds, but being Morgan Stack seemed to be a constant flux of
healing from one trauma or another, never being fully well.<span> </span>Good thing she was a pro at dealing with it.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>She sat
on a park bench and read the Captain Underpants book, laughing over it,
thinking how funny the juvenile humor would feel in Paul’s 8-year-old
mind.<span> </span>She hadn’t had much of a
childhood, and felt that Paul was sharing his.<span>
</span>Passersby gave her a few funny looks but she didn’t care, they didn’t
know anything, they weren’t anybody.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>She went
to a couple of hobby stores until she found a model kit of a Harley Davidson
Sportster she liked.<span> </span>She also got a nice
big color photocopy made of the picture Paul had drawn for her, got it
laminated, and wrote a letter on the back.<span>
</span>She put the model kit, her beat-up copy of <i>Salem’s Lot</i>, a six
pack of fresh batteries, and the picture into a box addressed to Paul.<span> </span>She took the picture out one more time to
make sure the letter was right.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Hey,
brother!</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>“Here’s
a bike for you to work on.<span> </span>It’s not the
real thing but it’ll show you where all the parts go.<span> </span>But you know that already, right?<span> </span>The book may be a little old for you but
you’re smart, I think you can handle it.<span>
</span>I really like Captain Underpants, he’s my favorite superhero now besides
Paul the Mechanic.<span> </span>And I wanted you to
have a copy of your drawing.<span> </span>I can’t
draw and you made us look really good together so I think you need one,
too.<span> </span>I’ll drop in and see you whenever
I’m in the area.<span> </span>In the meantime, if you
need something, call Cowboy.”<span> </span>She’d
written in Cowboy’s cell number.<span> </span>“And
tell her hello from me if you guys go see the horses or go for-real
fishing.<span> </span>It’s okay to bother fish, but I
still like our way.<span> </span>Anyway, gotta
run.<span> </span>Just wanted you to know you have a
friend out in the world.<span> </span>And so do I.”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Satisfied,
she drew a heart and a peace symbol, then accidentally forgot and signed it
“Morgan.”<span> </span>She thought about scribbling
it out but instead wrote “(Jane)” beside it.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Once in
a while you had to take a risk and just trust somebody a little.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span>Before
she sealed the box, she added one more line:<span>
</span>“P.S. – MOO!”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span> </span><span style="font-size: large;">The
End</span></span></span></p>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="header"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="envelope address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="toa heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Cite"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Preformatted"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
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<![endif]--></p><p><br /></p>Zwolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02364540771153476179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-42184886042264803072019-09-30T09:19:00.000-05:002022-10-10T11:14:32.405-05:00NIGHTMARE LIBRARY: A Halloween Reading List<!--[if !mso]>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Greetings and felicitations, monster kids!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Here’s the idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s Halloween
month, and I figured we could do our own book-club-type thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or an advent calendar of horror, maybe. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reading is good for you, reading horror is <i>especially</i>
good for you (especially in October), and the Internet – for all the bad things
it does – does provide access to a lot of literature that’s absolutely
free.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I read a <i>lot</i> of this stuff, so I know of some stories that
people who <s>who have lives</s> aren’t as obsessed by this stuff may not have
encountered, and somebody besides just me should be benefiting from my
studies, so I’m going to link you to a story a day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All you have to do is click it and read it,
and, if you want, come back here and discuss what you read in the comments
(that’s not required but it’ll make it more fun).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I wanted to make this easy so I stuck to only stories that I could
find for free on the Internet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would
have loved to throw in some Robert Aickman (particularly “Ringing The Changes”)
and some Thomas Ligotti (especially “Gas Station Carnivals” and “The Clown
Puppet”) and “Canavan’s Back Yard” by Joseph Payne Brennan and some Richard
Matheson (“The Distributor” will wreck you, and “Graveyard Shift” is also
incredible), and T.E.D. Klein’s “The Events At Poroth Farm,”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Karl Edward Wagner’s “Sticks” and “River of
Night’s Dreaming,” plus a lot of other things… but, alas, I couldn’t find them
online.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your town should have a library,
though – hit ‘em up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I’ve done a good
job with this, you’re going to want more, anyway. I recommend printing these out, but I'm old-school. It just seems weird reading Victorian-era stuff on a computer... but, if you're cool with that, have at it.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I tried to stick to things that not everyone would be familiar with,
which is why there’s a lot of obvious classic things missing from the
list.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No Edgar Alan Poe, for instance –
I love the guy, but we’ve all read “The Tale-Tale Heart” and “The Black Cat”
and “The Fall of the House of Usher” by now, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(If not, those are online and you should
definitely read ‘em).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought about
throwing “Bernice” in just because a lot of people missed that icky tale of
tooth-fetishism, but, I dunno, I found enough other good stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some stuff here horror fans will still be
familiar with (I can hear people going, “Do you think we haven’t heard of “The
Willows” or Lovecraft?) but threw them in just in case.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I leaned heavily on the Victorians, partially
because that’s where my own taste lies, but also because more of their things
are public domain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I found a few
newer things and even stuck in a few nasty ol’ pulp stories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the style of the older stories doesn’t
appeal to you, tough it out – once you get a taste for them, you’ll want more.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I tried to relegate the longer stories to weekends when you’ll have
more time.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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The comment section is also a good place to pass along recommendations
of your own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m always looking for
those.</div>
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<br /></div>
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And, of course, you don't have to look hard to find more horror
stories here that we wrote. If you have the time, read those, too! </div>
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<br /></div>
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Anyway, enough babble, I think you get it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here’s the reading list:</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 1 (Tuesday)</b> </div>
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<a href="https://thevalueofsparrows.com/2017/12/30/christmas-story-smee-by-a-m-burrage/" target="_blank">Smee – A. M. Burrage</a></div>
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Some guests at a party decide to play a hide-and-seek game in a house
that’s haunted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You figure out where
this one’s going pretty early on but the writing’s so good that the final punch
is still chilling even though it’s expected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Creeps guaranteed.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 2 (Wednesday)</b></div>
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<a href="https://americanliterature.com/author/guy-de-maupassant/short-story/on-the-river" target="_blank">“On The River” by Guy DeMaupassant</a></div>
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A masterpiece of spooky atmosphere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When his anchor gets stuck on something, a guy has to spend the night on
a foggy river.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ending just makes it
all even more eerie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This one’s haunted
me since I was a kid and my dad just <i>told</i> me about it. (If you want more, <a href="http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/Horl.shtml" target="_blank">"The Horla"</a> is also pretty great)</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 3 (Thursday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://harpers.org/sponsor/balvenie/wp-content/uploads/Lot%20no%20249-Doyle.pdf" target="_blank">“Lot 249” by Arthur Conan Doyle</a></div>
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Some college guys have problems with a creepy guy in their dorm who
keeps a mummy in his room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He says it’s
for “study” but they’re pretty sure he has darker uses for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doyle is as good at horror as he is at
Sherlock Holmes, displaying an effective restraint, suggesting more than he
shows, keeping the horror in the shadows or behind locked doors, making your
mind fill in the blanks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The “something
passing on the stairs in the dark” scene is chilling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you like Doyle, he wrote a lot of
horror.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/294/294-h/294-h.htm#link2H_4_0002" target="_blank">“The Captain of the Pole Star”</a>
is recommended if you liked Dan Simmons’ <i>The Terror</i> and want to see what
an early take on that might have looked like.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 4 (Friday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.gutenberg.net.au/ebooks06/0607711h.html" target="_blank">“The Crown Derby Plate” by Marjorie Bowen</a></div>
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The desire to complete a set of plates bought at an estate sale leads
a woman into a horrific situation when she pays a visit to a lonely,
nasty-smelling eccentric in an old house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Unsettling for sure.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 5 (Saturday)</b></div>
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<a href="http://www.english.upenn.edu/~nauerbac/onions.html" target="_blank">“The Beckoning Fair One” by Oliver Onions</a></div>
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This one may be familiar, since a lot of people consider it the
greatest ghost story ever written, but just in case you’re the
“just-doing-this-for-Halloween” type I figured I should expose you to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A guy trying to write a play rents a room
that he shouldn’t have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’ll certainly
get to you when you discover the source of a sound he keeps hearing…</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 6 (Sunday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.hplovecraft.com/writings/texts/fiction/soi.aspx" target="_blank">“The Shadow Over Innsmouth” by H.P. Lovecraft</a></div>
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You should really read everything by Lovecraft (go invest in one of
those nice leatherbound copies you keep seeing at Barnes & Noble), but this
one’s the one I come back to most often, just because of the atmosphere, which
is unique.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A decaying seaside town of
ill repute, where the residents have more wrong with them than just inbreeding,
hides a horrible secret that builds to inexplicable eeriness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’ll change the way you see small towns by
the sea.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 7 (Monday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://archive.org/stream/in.ernet.dli.2015.184787/2015.184787.Selected-Stories-Of-Eudora-Welty_djvu.txt" target="_blank">“Clytie” by Eudora Welty</a></div>
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Southern gothic reeking with madness, even if it’s not strictly
horror.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
rotting-minds-in-rotting-mansions feel of it gets close enough to a nightmare,
though, and if nothing else, you’ll fall in love with the writing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Faulkner gets all the credit, but Welty is
Mississippi’s real main gift to literature in my book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sorry the only copy I could find online is so
crappy, formatting-wise, but it’s worth the effort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Speaking of Faulkner, I’m not always a big
fan of him, but <a href="https://flightline.highline.edu/tkim/Files/Lit100_SS2.pdf" target="_blank">“A Rose For Emily”</a> is a creepy masterpiece, so if you have the
time and inclination, read two stories tonight.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 8 (Tuesday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://talesofmytery.blogspot.com/2014/03/irvin-s-cobb-fishhead.html" target="_blank">“Fishhead” by Irvin S. Cobb</a></div>
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While we’re down South, here’s some atmospheric backwoods horror.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A couple of racist rednecks set out to kill a
weird swamp-dweller who seems more catfish than human… and they learn that he
has friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Warning: has some racist
words thrown around, but don’t worry, the people using ‘em get their
comeuppance.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 9 (Wednesday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.steve-calvert.co.uk/public-domain-texts/e-f-benson-the-room-in-the-tower.html" target="_blank">“The Room in the Tower” by E.F. Benson</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
A man keeps having terrible dreams about staying in a tower room…
until real life catches up with his nightmares.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Benson’s a heavyweight in Victorian ghost story writing and he’s at his
best here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had trouble limiting myself
to just one story of his; he’s another you really need to invest in a complete
collection of his stories, which, fortunately, can be gotten very cheaply.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“<a href="http://www.steve-calvert.co.uk/public-domain-texts/e-f-benson-the-face.html" target="_blank">The Face</a>,”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“<a href="http://www.steve-calvert.co.uk/public-domain-texts/e-f-benson-negotium-perambulans.html" target="_blank">Negotium Perambulans</a>,” “<a href="http://www.steve-calvert.co.uk/public-domain-texts/e-f-benson-caterpillars.html" target="_blank">Caterpillars</a>,” “<a href="http://www.steve-calvert.co.uk/public-domain-texts/e-f-benson-mrs-amworth.html" target="_blank">Mrs. Amworth</a>,” and others
are also very much recommended.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 10 (Thursday)</b></div>
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<a href="http://www.nightmare-magazine.com/fiction/the-companion/" target="_blank">“The Companion” by Ramsey Campbell</a></div>
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I was so happy to find this online I can’t even tell you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a very creepy off-kilter-point-of-view
story about a haunted, nervous loser who spends his vacations going to run-down
“fun-fairs” and carnivals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And one
disappointing, almost-abandoned seaside carnival, he decides to ride The Ghost
Train.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, oh, he really shouldn’t have
done that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Darkly moody and displays
Campbell’s skill at getting special effects on paper, and connecting to your
subconscious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Campbell’s writing can be
so strange it’ll make you feel like you’re on LSD, and will disturb you without
you even knowing why.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish I could
find more of his stories online.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you
go in search of more of his stuff, I especially recommend “Call First,” “The
Brood,” and “Again.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(“Again” will <i>mess
you up.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That thing,
aaaaagggh!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So freakin’ dark). Campbell varies when it comes to novels, but his short stories tend to be brilliant. You could do worse than picking up a collection or two.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b>October 11 (Friday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/RepaRepu.shtml" target="_blank">“Repairer of Reputations” by Robert W. Chambers</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Feel free to substitute <a href="http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/YellSign.shtml" target="_blank">“The Yellow Sign”</a> for this, or read both – I
had to toss a coin to decide which to go with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Repairer of Reputations” is just so strange that I went with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Set in a future (1920’s!) America, the world
has been poisoned by an evil book, <i>The King In Yellow</i>, which drives its
readers insane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The narrator’s
practically got it memorized.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He and his
cohorts are planning an apocalyptic coup d’etat that will put the earth under
the mystical King’s rule… but it’s soon clear that the narrator’s an insane
megalomaniac and his perceptions can’t be trusted (at least, that’s what we
hope).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Extremely weird, paranoiac tale
seething with hints of a far more frightening story under the surface which
isn’t being told.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Relentlessly dark
nightmare-logic full of sinister implications.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“The Yellow Sign” is a bit more direct, but contains some of the sickest
imagery you’ll find for its era.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I don't think you'll forget the bit about the finger. </span>And
just about everything else Chambers wrote was frothy junk, so you can consider
him a two-hit wonder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But with hits like
those, it should be enough for anybody.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b>October 12 (Saturday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://doyleandmacdonald.com/l_carmil.htm" target="_blank">“Carmilla” by Joseph Sheridan LeFanu</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Classic vampire tale that’s been the source of nearly as many films as
<i>Dracula.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>A girl’s new friend may
be a centuries-old vampires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s a
surprising undercurrent of lesbianism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One of the horror heavyweights, but I wanted to make sure everyone was
exposed to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you always meant to
read it, now’s the time.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b>October 13 (Sunday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://www.appbbs.com/fiction/2018/11/the-mole-men-want-your-eyes" target="_blank">“The Mole Men Want Your Eyes” by Frederick C. Davis</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Okay, this is gory junk and I’m not going to pretend it’s anything
but, but… how could you not want to read a story with that title?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is direct from one of the 1930’s
“weird-menace shudder pulps” and it’s the real-deal kind of stuff that warped your
grandparents when they were kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
not going to be mistaken for art of any kind, but, sometimes you want McDonalds
for dinner, and sometimes you want a story with a lot of ripped-out eyeballs
and gruesome misery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In case you don’t,
though, <a href="http://www.gutenberg.net.au/ebooks14/1403341h.html#ch1" target="_blank">“A Room In A Rectory”</a> by Sir Andrew Calecott may be substituted (it’s
creepy but the prose is a bit tough).</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b>October 14 (Monday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.doyleandmacdonald.com/l_nightw.htm" target="_blank">“The Night Wire” by H. F. Arnold</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Strangely disturbing tale of telegraph messages sent in the middle of
the night from a doomed (and possibly nonexistent) town that’s been besieged by
a rotten fog seeping up from a churchyard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Has an unsettling feel, like a bad dream you sort-of remember.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b>October 15 (Tuesday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://gallowshill.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/theloveddead.pdf" target="_blank">“The Loved Dead” by C. M. Eddy</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Okay, this is pretty hardcore, even now, and caused such an uproar by
upsetting <i>Weird Tales’</i> readership that the controversy saved the
magazine from folding in 1924… while almost getting it banned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Possibly ghost-written by H. P. Lovecraft,
this is the nasty narrative of a necrophile whose lust for corpses to sleep
with can’t be satisfied by working in the morgue, leading him to stalk the
populace with a razor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is gonna
weed a few people out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you don’t
want to spend a few minutes inside the sick mind of a necrophiliac, substitute
some E. F. Benson or M. R. James instead, no one will blame you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b>October 16 (Wednesday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://americanliterature.com/author/mr-james/short-story/oh-whistle-and-ill-come-to-you-my-lad" target="_blank">“O Whistle And I’ll Come To You, My Lad” by M.R. James</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Speaking of M.R., here he is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yes, this is one of the all-time classic ghost stories, but it’s so good
I can’t stand the thought of anyone possibly missing out on James.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s another one of those ghost story writers
where you really <i>need</i> to just buy a collection of all of his stories,
which, again, is luckily pretty cheap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s hard to pick just one of his stories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I keep a complete collection of his stuff (<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Complete-Ghost-Stories-M-James/dp/1509827722/ref=sr_1_3?keywords=m.+r.+james+ghost+stories&qid=1569850073&s=books&sr=1-3" target="_blank">this one, in fact</a> - it's a beautiful little thing, hardback and just a bit bigger than a Gideon Bible)
beside my bed in case I need some get-back-to-sleep reading.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> (<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Wordsworth-Horror-Stories-Special-Editions/dp/1840220562/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=wordsworth+horror+stories&qid=1569850149&s=books&sr=1-1" target="_blank">This volume is also good</a> -- it's got all of James's stories, plus a whole lot more, including several of the authors posted here). </span>I’ve read them all dozens of times and they
never get old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This one, in
particularly, might make you afraid of doing your laundry…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b>October 17 (Thursday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://www.saturdayeveningpost.com/2010/10/bus-shirley-jackson/" target="_blank">“The Bus” By Shirley Jackson</a></div>
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I was going to go with <a href="http://bookre.org/reader?file=242918" target="_blank">“The Summer People”</a> but that one sometimes gets
taught in English class, while “The Bus” is uber-creepy and has slipped through
the cracks somehow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a disturbing,
nightmarish episode in which a disagreeable old lady (who may be senile)
encounters part of her past when she’s put off a bus in an unfamiliar town… and
her past wants no more to do with her than her present.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dark and dreamlike, you won’t shake it for a
while… if ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(“The Summer People,”
by the way, is also a masterpiece and will fill you with dread… but of what,
you may never know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A couple decide to
stay at their vacation cabin past Labor Day, and… no one ever does that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And neither should they.)</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 18 (Friday)</b></div>
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<a href="http://www.archive.org/stream/TheGraveyardRats/KuttnerHenry-TheGraveyardRats.txt" target="_blank">“The Graveyard Rats” by Henry Kuttner</a></div>
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A grave robber finds he has some very nasty competition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing pretty about this punch-in-the-face
pulp story, but it touches on several primal fears with no mercy given, and
does it with style.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 19 (Saturday)</b></div>
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<a href="https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Novel_of_the_White_Powder" target="_blank">“Novel of the White Powder” by Arthur Machen</a></div>
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You know how your medicines have an expiration date?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ll be heeding that when you’re done with
this very nasty tale.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ye godz.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This one is so nasty for its time period it’s
almost bewildering. If you liked Stephen King's "Grey Matter" you might be ready for this.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 20 (Sunday)</b></div>
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<a href="https://talesofmytery.blogspot.com/2013/10/george-r-r-martin-pear-shaped-man.html" target="_blank">“The Pear-Shaped Man” by George R. R. Martin</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Another one I was surprised and overjoyed to find online.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Didja know the <i>Game of Thrones</i> guy
did horror?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, he does, and he will <i>bother</i>
you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An artist moves into a new
apartment and becomes obsessed by a weird, unpleasant neighbor – a chubby,
unclean creep who lives on Cheez Doodles and Coke and wants to show her his
“things.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The way he invades her life
creates an unidentifiable menace that will make a hell of an impression.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Read it and you’ll start seeing pear-shaped
men everywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since it’s Sunday and
you have time, you’ll also like <a href="https://forwearemany.files.wordpress.com/2009/04/sandkings.pdf" target="_blank">“Sandkings”</a> by the same author, about a guy who
has fun tormenting his strange little insect-creatures… until he pushes them
too far.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 21 (Monday)</b></div>
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<a href="http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/BellFog.shtml" target="_blank">“The Bell in the Fog” by Gertrude Atherton</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I’ll admit that I don’t really know why this one is so creepy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe you can figure it out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, creepy it is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A famous author (obviously patterned on
Atherton’s friend Henry James, who must have been weirded out by this) with
pedophile tendencies is obsessed with a portrait of a little girl in the
gallery of an old house he bought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then
he finds a real little girl who looks exactly like the painting and becomes so enamored of her that he wants to adopt her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The past and present seem to converge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is a tough one to figure out because it’s very subtle and
multi-layered… but it has a melancholy spookiness that’s hard to understand,
even though it works.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For those who like
their horror quiet.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 22 (Tuesday)</b></div>
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<a href="https://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/h/hodgson/william_hope/voice/" target="_blank">“The Voice In The Night” by William Hope Hodgson</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
A ship is visited by a rowboat from a nearby island, whose occupant
refuses to be seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s a fungus
amongus…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Really creepy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you have time, you can read a whole novel
by Hodgson online, <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/10002/10002-h/10002-h.htm" target="_blank"><i>The House on the Borderland</i></a>, about a guy battling
weird pig-men who come out of a hole under his house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually time stops and the world dies for
a while as centuries pass in minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Hard to make sense out of part of it, but, it’s easier than trying to
read <i>The Night-Land</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Voice in
the Night” is much more straightforward. If you like it and think, “Gee, I’d like some more ocean-related fungus stories, Hodgson seemed pretty obsessed by the idea, so try <a data-original-title="" href="https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Derelict_(Hodgson)" target="_blank" title="">“The Derelict.”</a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 23 (Wednesday)</b></div>
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<a href="http://nativetalk.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Patricia%20Highsmith%20-%20The%20Quest%20for%20Blank%20Claveringi_s.pdf" target="_blank">“The Quest for Blank Claveringi” by Patricia Highsmith</a></div>
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If you don’t find snails icky, this one may not work on you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But since <i>everybody</i> finds snails
pretty icky, I betcha it will!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another
one I was surprised and happy to find online.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 24 (Thursday)</b></div>
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<a href="https://chesnuttarchive.org/Works/Stories/lonesomeben.html" target="_blank">“Lonesome Ben” by Charles Chesnutt</a></div>
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This isn’t strictly horror, and is more of a “tall tale” by an early
African-American author… but I love Chesnutt’s stuff, and this one’s always
haunted me a bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s meant to be
humorous at the end, but there’s nothing funny about the nightmarish plight of
poor Ben, a runaway slave without much to eat but mud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This involves dialect and some politically
incorrect language, so if you can’t handle that even from an early Black
author, you might pass on this one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
you’d be missing out, because Chesnutt was a genius.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of his stuff is recommended, not just the
“conjure tales.” <a href="https://chesnuttarchive.org/Works/Stories/neckliss.html" target="_blank">"Dave's Neckliss"</a> is another one that's supposed to be "funny" at the end, but which I find horrifying at the core.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 25 (Friday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://mirabilis-yearofwonders.blogspot.com/2011/07/clock.html" target="_blank">“The Clock” by W. F. Harvey</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://www.trussel.com/hearn/mujina.htm" target="_blank">“Mujina” by Lafcadio Hearn</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
We’re gonna do two today, because they’re both really short.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first is “The Clock,” in which a person
sent to retrieve a clock from a supposedly-empty house almost encounters…
something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not sure what, but it’s
skin-crawlingly creepy and I’m not even sure <i>why</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a masterpiece of carrying all the horror
through <i>sound</i>, and it’s a short little nightmare that’s gonna bug you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Mujina” is a Japanese folk-tale with one hell of a final shock image.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Try not to picture it too hard…</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>October 26 (Saturday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/Will837.shtml" target="_blank">“The Willows” by Algernon Blackwood</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Another “I’m not really sure why this is so creepy, but it IS”
story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two guys camping on a river
which is overrun by willows pass into an area where the space between
dimensions is worn thin, and they attract the attention of whatever’s on the
other side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The atmosphere of menace and
dread grows, even though you’re not sure exactly <i>what</i> you’re scared
of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not really an easy read but
it’s one of those I go back and re-read every few months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An important part of any horror fan’s
education.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b>October 27 (Sunday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.gutenberg.net.au/ebooks06/0600721h.html" target="_blank">“Pigeons From Hell” by Robert E. Howard</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
CREEPY swampland horror from the creator of Conan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dudes stumbling down the stairs of abandoned
antebellum mansions with a hatchet stuck in their head… and that’s just for
starters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Pigeons can’t be scary!” you
say?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Find out how wrong you can
be!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a bonus, <a href="https://www.appbbs.com/fiction/2018/11/worms-of-the-earth" target="_blank">“The Worms of theEarth”</a> is also online, which is a Bran Mak Morn sword-and-sorcery tale but with some of the
darkest horror aspects you can imagine – crawling hands, dark sorcery, you name
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b>October 28 (Monday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.steve-calvert.co.uk/text-screaming-skull-marion-crawford/" target="_blank">“The Screaming Skull” by F. Marion Crawford</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
It was a toss-up between this and <a href="http://www.steve-calvert.co.uk/text-upper-berth-marion-crawford/" target="_blank">“The Upper Berth”</a> but I went with
this tale of a skull who doesn’t let death stop its need for vengeance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I read this when I was far too young to be
reading it (in the classic <i>Great Tales of Terror and The Supernatural</i>,
which I nagged my mom to buy me when I was about five – everybody needs this
book in their house, it should be mandatory) and it messed me up good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The Upper Berth” is also very creepy, with
inhabitants of a ship’s stateroom troubled by something cold and damp…</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b>October 29 (Tuesday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://csivc.csi.cuny.edu/history/files/lavender/wallpaper.html" target="_blank">“The Yellow Wallpaper” by Charlotte Perkins Gillman</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Oh, man, the madness in this story… it stays unsettling no matter how
many times you read it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Early feminist
horror in which a woman is taken to an old estate to get over some post-partum
depression, and is given the worst room possible by a husband who just doesn’t
listen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An obsession with the wallpaper
– and a woman she thinks is creeping behind it – drives her to madness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chilling every damn time.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b>October 30 (Wednesday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.digital-eel.com/blog/library/spider.htm" target="_blank">“The Spider” by Hans Heinz Ewars</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
A student moves into an apartment where the previous residents hung
themselves from a bar in the window.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
feels certain that he won’t do the same, and decides to keep a journal of his
experiences in the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it’s going
to scare you to read it.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b>October 31 (Thursday)</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://gutenberg.net.au/ebooks06/0605431.txt" target="_blank">“In Kropsfberg Keep” by RalphAdams Cram</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://talesofmytery.blogspot.com/2013/02/anthony-boucher-they-bite.html" target="_blank">“They Bite” by Anthony Boucher</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
It’s Halloween so we’re ordering a double.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just couldn’t stand to leave either of
these out of the main running.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
In the first, a couple of smartypants ghostbusters insist o spending
the night in the ruins of a haunted castle and end up facing far more horror
than they bargained for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The plot is
standard but the payoff is strong, effective, and grim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Classic.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
In the second, a man working in the desert sees "Carkers" -- legendary little
creatures at the corner of his vision.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Unfortunately for him, they don’t stay there. And they like blood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Damn spooky.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Some other stories that could just as easily have been included:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://commapress.co.uk/resources/online-short-stories/the-signalman-charles-dickens" target="_blank">“The Signalman” by Charles Dickens</a> – a worker on a trainline keeps
seeing a figure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Creepy atmosphere.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.online-literature.com/stoker/820/" target="_blank">“The Judge’s House” by Bram Stoker</a> – add rats to a haunted house and
you’re just sure to scare a reader.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://intranet.royalholloway.ac.uk/english/documents/pdf/centrevictorianstudies/guildeaetext.pdf" target="_blank">“How Love Came To Professor Guildea” by Robert Hichens</a> (a parrot sees
things that his owner can’t… and a loathesome unseen idiotic thing seems to
have a crush on him)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Mark_of_the_Beast" target="_blank">“The Mark of the Beast” by Rudyard Kipling</a> (sounds like a werewolf
story, but it’s something much creepier)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.steve-calvert.co.uk/text-amayas-northcote-brickett-bottom/" target="_blank">“Brickett Bottom” by Amyas Northcote</a> (a couple of girls taking walks
in the country see an old house that’s not supposed to be there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One starts visiting it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She shouldn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Effective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I especially like that one of the girls has bad vision and can’t <i>really</i>
see the house clearly.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.yankeeclassic.com/miskatonic/library/stacks/literature/blackwood/stories/listener.htm" target="_blank">"The Listener" by Algernon Blackwood</a> (A man's new apartment seems haunted... and it is. Creepy payoff). </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br data-cke-eol="1" />
<div class="" style="text-align: justify;">
<a data-original-title="" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/17953/17953-h/17953-h.htm#VI" target="_blank" title="">“The Haunters and the Haunted, or The House and the Brain” by Sir Edward Bulwer-Lytton</a> (Some ghost hunters get their nerves rattled trying to find out what’s haunting a notorious house. Creepy!)</div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
Zwolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02364540771153476179noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-87966894483761982692018-10-31T15:01:00.000-05:002019-10-14T15:58:53.599-05:00Just Leave<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
need and plan to work more on this story, but it'll do for now. Enjoy!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Just Leave<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warren
and his sister were thick in the midst of sorting out his parents’ estate. Their
mother had died of congestive heart failure a little over two years prior, and
their father, though seemingly healthy overall, had deteriorated in the interim
and recently succumbed to lung cancer, which he hadn’t told anyone about until
the last days. Both had smoked for more than 70 years, and the utter permeation
of the house’s every inch by tar and nicotine was one of the main reasons
Warren hated visiting. That smoke smell would be hell to get out, Warren
worried, especially if they were going to sell the house.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">He
had driven the 3 hours or so up to his parents’ house (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">former house</i>, he kept thinking) that afternoon to sort through some
of his father’s belongings. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Will it look
different to me now?</i>, Warren had wondered during the drive. He had only been
there once since his father died and realized that he’d never known a time when
the house had no real owners, no occupants.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">But
the house looked the same, of course. An apparent one-story from the front, an
actual two-story from the rear owing to its position on a hillside, the Dimion
homestead was perfectly traditional, discolored tan brick and an aging hip roof
surrounded by an unremarkable but tidy yard. Trees Warren had played in or
around as a kid were long gone, either from age or ice storms. None of the
houses in their neighborhood looked even remotely similar to one another, which
always made Warren feel an involuntary and illogical pride.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">He
found the spare key where it had been stashed for years – under a landscaping
stone covered with bark mulch to the front porch’s left – and went in the
house, catching the stinging odor of cigarette smoke before he even opened the
door. Although his sister had texted him earlier in the day to say she’d
already removed most of the furniture, he was unprepared for the empty room
that greeted his entrance: where once had stood a dining table, chairs, TV, and
roll-top desk, now there was only discolored and indented carpet. The sitting
room just to the left was empty as well, and its bare faux-wood floor hollowly
reverberated the closing front door. Only then did it occur to Warren that all
the beds were probably gone too, meaning he’d have nowhere comfortable to
sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Wandering
through the house, the creaky kitchen floor (you entered on the second floor,
at the foundational hill’s apex) sounded louder than he remembered, likely
because of the rooms’ emptiness, and he grinned at the minutiae left behind:
two stained oven mitts hanging next to the stove, a comically obsolete list of
phone numbers taped to the wall, three stair-stepped containers he really hoped
didn’t still contain sugar-free cookies, the incongruously new washer and dryer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Down
the carpeted and equally creaky stairs, past the chairlift his mother once
used, Warren found more of the same: newly furniture-less carpet, splayed-open
cardboard boxes holding trinkets and photo albums, a metal trash can, a
Garfield sticker on a full-length mirror. The bottom floor was half underground
and smelled reliably dank, an oddly pleasant odor Warren auto-associated with
his youth. Off to the right of the stairs, his father’s bedroom loomed
pitch-black, and Warren felt a twinge of an old childhood fear at approaching
this lightless basement room alone. The fear escalated more than Warren wished
to admit while he slapped around fruitlessly for the light switch, but when his
hands found it, the slow fade of the fluorescent overheads eroded that feeling
and revealed a truly empty space: not only was all the furniture gone but the
carpet and pad had been pulled up as well, owing to the subterranean seepage
against which his parents had fought mostly in vain for nearly 40 years. The
painted concrete floor’s stains and peeling made the room look less like
sleeping quarters and more like an interrogation chamber.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warren
exited (but left the light on) and walked into what his family had always
called the rec room, a lengthy space (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">42
feet end to end</i>, his mind hiccupped) that had once held an elaborate
stereo, stacks of vinyl albums, a wall of books, several generations of
video-game consoles (Colecovision through Super Nintendo, if memory served),
and both ping-pong and pool tables. All that remained now was the pool table.
He’d hoped the old futon couch would still be here so he could sleep on it
(uncomfortable though it was), but no. Even the bookshelves and firewood box
were barren.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“The
goddamn pool table,” Warren sighed. No wonder it got left behind. The ping pong
table was bought new and had still, four decades on, been in good shape, though
the net needed replacing. This thing, on the other hand, had become shabby
family legend almost instantly. Warren’s father bought it soon after they’d moved
in from a decrepit billiard hall that was going out of business. It was visibly
worn from day one, boasting scratches and scuffs but also an almost comic
instability – when touched or bumped, it creaked and swayed side to side.
Warren had tightened the relevant bolts countless times (his father was
hopelessly unhandy), but it never lasted long, and this ritual had provided
Warren with one of his favorite memories, a memory that came flooding back as
he stood in this huge, unfamiliarly-empty room. Something about lying on his
back under the pool table put Warren at peace, and he would regularly crawl
underneath it when the legs needed tightening and just stay there, flat on his
back, gazing at the table’s dusty underside, staring at the light seeping evocatively
through the spaces between ill-joined pieces of wood. More than once, Warren
had lost track of time during this weird reverie, never sleeping but perhaps
not entirely conscious, either, eventually rolling out onto the open floor and
rejoining the family upstairs, his parents asking where he’d been all this
time. Warren grinned at the memory’s richness and subliminally understood where
he’d sleep this night. The house held no softer, padded surfaces anymore,
anyway, so what did it matter where he lay?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">He
wondered if the balls were still in the table and reached into the return
opening, scraping the back of his hand on broken plastic molding. The balls
were there, all right, and Warren involuntarily grabbed three of them, numbers
4, 5, and 9. He thunked them onto the faded green felt and remembered the
table’s most famous trait: it was warped such that any rail shots curved toward
the center. As kids, he and his friends learned very quickly to use that warp
to their advantage, playing the curve to hit balls that might have been
unreachable on a regulation, defect-free surface. There were no longer any
cues, of course, but Warren picked up the 5 and gently underhanded it along the
right-hand rail, chuckling as it passed the side pocket and arced toward the middle
as he’d seen it do hundreds of times before. Then his muscle memory kicked in
and he grabbed the other two balls, rolling them rapidly toward the 5 and
banking them off the far rails so they’d sink in the corner pockets. It took
him a few tries but he finally sunk them all, enjoying the
still-immensely-satisfying sound of pocketing balls.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warren
rapped the table surface twice and was walking toward the rec-room windows when
his phone buzzed. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">You get there OK?</i>,
his sister Alice texted. He re-pocketed his phone, continued to the windows,
and pulled open the curtains. Holly bushes still rose about a third of the way
up the windows; above that Warren saw the few small remaining trees in the
backyard, the top of the viny back fenceline, and the dusky indigo sky tinged
with oranges and purples from the setting sun. He surveyed this scene for a few
moments and was about to reply to Alice when he heard the upstairs floor creak
overhead behind him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warren
frowned and looked around at where the sound seemed to have come from. He tried
to remember if Alice was in town – she lived half an hour away with her second
husband and two stepsons – but thought she wasn’t. She had always visited more
regularly than Warren had, so it wouldn’t be unheard of for her to drop by
unannounced, but he half remembered her saying she was traveling this weekend.
He plucked out his phone and typed, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yeah,
easy trip. Are you in town?</i> In a few seconds she replied, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">No. At the in-laws til Sunday</i>. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">That’s right. OK. Have fun</i>, Warren sent
back. Alice responded with a thumbs-up emoji.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">He
tried to think of any other friends or family members who might have come over
and into the house. His parents, though, had been virtual hermits for the past
20 years, rarely leaving the house and maintaining almost no friendships. Most
of their closest relatives had already died, and those relatives’ offspring
were scattered elsewhere around the country, so Warren doubted there was anyone
left who would be here. A neighbor? Possible but unlikely, as the Dimions had
never consorted much with their neighbors. Hospice or caregivers? Even less
likely – his mother had refused hospice care, and his father didn’t tell anyone
he was dying let alone arrange for hired help. <i>Maybe I imagined it</i>, Warren
thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">He
was heading back through the long room bound for the stairs when the floor
creaked again, this time directly above him. He stopped and looked up at the
ceiling. “Well. Didn’t imagine that,” he muttered. His pace quickened as he
approached his father’s room (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">glad I left
the light on</i>, he mused) and climbed the stairs to his right, eyes on the
landing above, not worried about being quiet or stealthy. “Hello?” he said from
the doorway into the empty kitchen. “Somebody here?” He crossed the long
kitchen floor toward the front door looking for signs of ingress but found
none: the balcony door off the kitchen to his left was still closed as was the
front door. He walked through all the upstairs rooms, but they were empty save
for more moving-house minutiae.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">He
then walked out into the front yard. The driveway held only his gray Corolla,
and the street was empty other than a few cars parked in front of neighboring
houses. Looking up at the darkening sky, he breathed in deeply for several
moments, savoring the cool, smoke-free air. “Maybe it’s just settling,” he
muttered after a long exhale. As if this idea resolved the issue, he went to
get his overnight bag from the car and had just reached the right-rear-door
handle when he heard the house’s metal security door bang shut. He gasped and
pivoted, heart pounding in his ears. No one was on the front porch, and the
inner door was still open. “What the fuck?” Warren said, uncomfortable at the
quaver in his voice. He immediately got irritated, grabbed his bag from the
car’s backseat, slammed the car door, and marched toward the house, locking the
car with a squeeze of the key fob.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">On
the porch, he dropped his bag and opened the security door to full gape so he
could time its closing. He watched as it swung slowly shut, finally slamming
home with a decisive bang. Eight seconds. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I
was out here longer than eight seconds</i>, he thought, smirking. He opened the
door again, pushed it all the way to the wall, and held it there for a moment
before releasing it. This time, the door remained idle for one…two…a little
over three seconds before it began its slow arc. After it banged shut again, he
thought, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">So, say twelve seconds. Enough
time?</i> Warren decided it was. Although he was sure he heard the door close
after he walked out, maybe that was just an aural memory. Maybe it took longer
to ease shut than it used to. “Stop being an idiot,” Warren said to himself
dismissively. He went inside and threw the deadbolts on both front doors.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">After
using the restroom and searching fruitlessly for food, he ordered a pizza to be
delivered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Later,
under the pool table, Warren watched Netflix for a while on his phone until he
got sleepy. He hadn’t thought to bring a pillow or blanket, so his overnight
bag and windbreaker served these purposes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">With
the curtains drawn, the room was nearly pitch black, and it irked Warren to
discover that he was scared. The pool table was at the far end of the long room
relative to the door, meaning he was all-too aware of the forty-plus feet of
darkness nearby. He resisted the urge to pull his windbreaker over his head and
instead just focused on the table’s underside until his eyes began to get
heavy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Soon
Warren was dreaming about a volcano out of which sprouted a horned, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fantasia</i>-like demon that threw purplish
lightning bolts at a smoky, ruined landscape. He wasn’t sure what eventually
jolted him awake, and he had just instinctively remembered the earlier floor
creaks overhead when he heard the front security door slam shut upstairs.
“Fuck,” Warren gasped. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Don’t sit up and
hit your head</i>, he thought sarcastically. He lay motionless waiting for some
other sound, his mind attempting to tick methodically through reasons the door
would have slammed. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Only one</i>, he
thought – <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">someone coming in or going out</i>.
With a sudden rush of courage, Warren rolled out from under the table (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">don’t turn your back on the darkness!,</i>
his younger self shouted), stood, and willed himself through the lightless room
until he got to the door and light switch. He flicked it on with an index
finger and whirled around to survey the room, which was empty, of course. He
stood there several seconds and was just about to head upstairs when the
upstairs floor creaked, this time toward the end of the room, beyond the pool
table. “All right, asshole,” Warren said quietly, “Time to end this.” He looked
around and rummaged in cardboard boxes for a weapon – his dad had owned a few
military-issue pistols that were surely long gone – but found nothing more
sinister than what appeared to be a third- or fourth-grade school photo of his
sister in a silver metal frame. Despite the amateurish book and ruler outlines
etched into the frame, it was solid and heavy, which he proved to himself by
slapping it into his palm a few times. “OK, sis. Let’s go,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warren
sped past the darkened bedroom to his left and concentrated on taking the
stairs two at a time, which did nothing to prevent the hairs on the back of his
neck from prickling up like always. He stepped into the kitchen, hit the light,
and lifted the picture frame prepared to strike, but there was no one there.
“Hello?” he called after a beat and held his breath to focus his hearing. Not a
sound. He walked across the long kitchen floor, creaking as he went and blankly
comparing his creaks to the ones he’d heard downstairs, senses alert for any
disturbance. His pulse quickened as he peeked into the entry hall, but the
front door was closed and locked just like he’d left it. He walked to it,
turned the deadbolt, and slowly opened the inner door. The metal security door
was closed as well. Warren pushed on it gingerly, but it had no give
whatsoever. He sighed, stepped up to the security door, and looked out the
window.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">A
dark shape appeared to be moving where the corners of the yard and the driveway
met the street. Warren stared at the shape with incomprehension. His first
unbidden thought was that it was a trash bag, but he hadn’t yet set out
anything to throw away. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A dog?,</i> he
wondered. No, it was too flattened, seemed too formless. But it was definitely
moving – he could see that now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warren
turned the deadbolt, opened the door, and stepped out onto the cold concrete
front step before walking into the dewy grass, never taking his eyes from the
dark shape, whose slowly moving surface bore a yellowy sheen from the
streetlight. Stepping around one of the yard’s lone remaining trees, he was
about five feet from the shape when he stopped abruptly and went cold from the
inside out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
shape was indeed a large black trash bag that pulsed weakly in and out at
irregular intervals and angles. Warren could hear something sliding and pushing
against the smooth plastic as the movements continued. He stepped closer
despite the rising panic and started to hear whimpers. “Hey,” he said
involuntarily. It was then he realized someone was inside the bag, the pulsing
movements feeble attempts to tear the plastic and escape.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Hey,”
he said again without really knowing he’d done it. He stepped right up next to
the bag and put his hands on his knees, peering intently at the jerkily
undulating shape. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I have to call the
police</i>, Warren thought, and he had just slapped at his right hip looking
for his phone when the metal security door slammed shut again. “FUCK!” he
shouted, jumping back and nearly falling down. He looked at the front door, but
no one was there. And then the bag said his name.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warren.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">He
looked down at the bag. It was torn open. A naked, jaundiced figure lay coiled
up inside but moving slowly, an elbow and a forearm appearing, and then a face
in profile. Warren stared, eyes wide. The picture frame slid out of his sweaty
palm and hit the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">It
was his mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warren.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Her
head turned slowly toward him. Her skin was yellow and saggy, with grime
visible in the creases even in the wan light.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warren.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">She
looked at him with mustardy eyeballs. Her voice was a croaky whisper, her
throat clotted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warren. Run.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warren
began to sob. “Mom!” he managed. “What is this?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Run.</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> A thin arm the
color of fish belly then pushed out of the bag opening, wrapped itself around
his mother’s body, and pulled her with obvious effort farther down into the
bag. Her face contorted into the most anguished look he’d ever seen before her
body doubled in on itself painfully and disappeared.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Mom!”
he shrieked. Then Warren threw himself onto his knees and reached in with both
arms to pull his mother out, but he fell into the bag, into darkness, and he
lost consciousness, the scent of old earth and fresh decay in his nostrils.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warren
awoke to a dull ache down his right side. He lifted his head, but his neck had
such a crick he couldn’t lift it far. He opened his eyes and was hopelessly
confused for a few seconds, because what he saw was his car. He blinked at it a
few times and then craned his neck around despite the pain. He was in the front
yard, curled up in his gym shorts and t-shirt, shivering from the chill, wet
with dew, exposed skin prickly and cross-hatched from the crisp autumn grass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">It
was early daylight, perhaps 6:30 a.m. Warren lay his head back down on the
ground for a moment and tried to gather thoughts. When details from the night
before began coalescing, he remembered the dark shape and why he had come
outside, and he shot up off the ground with a panicked groan despite the
soreness in his side and neck. His bare feet scuffed along the rough gray
driveway as he balanced himself and looked down where the trash bag had been
last night. But other than a flattened patch where he had lain (all night, he
thought with distaste), the grass showed nothing. He looked instinctively up at
the front door and frantically scanned the immediate vicinity in front of him. Nothing
seemed amiss. Warren exhaled as if he hadn’t done so in hours. “Fuckin’-A,” he
blurted and laughed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Shaken
by the lingering images but relieved nonetheless, Warren walked slowly down the
driveway and sidewalk to the front door. He was about to mount the small steps
to the porch when he froze.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">There
were dirty smears all over the porch’s painted concrete, as though someone with
muddy feet had repeatedly slipped while trying to enter the house.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warren
stared at this sight until a wiry panic made him look down. The short expanse
of gray concrete between the grass and the steps also bore streaks of mud along
with a few larger clogs, and he had stepped right in it all. He lifted his
right foot to inspect the sole – it was filthy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Shit,”
he spat and hopped backward into the grass where he dragged them one at a time
to get rid of the mud. When they were cleaner and damp with dew, he looked back
up at the porch, saw the streaky mud again, and exhaled irritatedly through his
nostrils.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“I
am going inside. I am getting dressed. I am gathering my shit. I am locking the
door. And I am leaving.” Warren said all this firmly and pointedly as though
trying to convince himself to do it. He maneuvered around the mud and opened
the metal security door (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">no mud on the
doorknob</i>, his mind noted). But his strides into the house were short-lived.
Once inside the foyer, what he saw stopped his motion with the force of a large
fist in the middle of his chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">There
were more muddy streaks on the foyer’s white ceramic tile and on the kitchen’s
old, indented carpet. And beyond that lay a torn black trash bag. It was empty
but dirty and visibly stretched, as though something inside had forced its way
out. Not fully aware that he was doing so, Warren walked forward to see what he
already knew was there beyond the bag. Muddy streaks, splayed at crazy angles
on the carpet and extending to the end of the kitchen, all the way to the door
that led to the laundry room and the stairs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I should leave
right now</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">,
Warren mused, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">but everything’s downstairs
– clothes, car key, phone, everything</i>. The thought of his phone made him
look on the wall where his parents’ old landline phone always hung. It was
still there. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Call 911</i>, his mind
shouted. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And tell them what?</i>, he
countered. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Someone tracked mud into the
house and left a trash bag behind?</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“No,”
he said aloud back to himself. “Say someone’s in the house.” <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">An intruder</i>, he added mentally. Stepping
to the phone, careful to avoid the mud, he plucked the handset out of its
cradle, put it to his ear, and started to dial but realized there was no dial
tone. Punching the numbers anyway did nothing. As he began to hang up, he heard
a sound like low white noise. He put the handset back to his ear. “Hello?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Intruder</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">, said a voice
from the phone. It was quiet and raspy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Who
is this?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Intruder</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">, the voice said
again. Warren could discern neither gender nor age.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“If
this is a prank, you’re a fucking psycho and I <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">will</b> call the cops,” Warren barked. The sudden heat of anger felt
good.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warren</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">, the voice said. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Stay with us.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">For
a time Warren couldn’t speak. This last phrase dissipated the anger and left
him aghast. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What is happening?</i>, his
mind pled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Stay with us</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">. It sounded like
multiple voices now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“I...I
don’t…,” Warren stammered. “I don’t know what’s going on.” He paused, then:
“Who are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Silence
now, save for that low white noise. It was barely audible.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Who
are you?” Warren said again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Intruder</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">. Back to a single
voice, the same raspy one as before. Then, after a beat, came a different
voice. It was loud and booming and guttural and furious.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">INTRUDER!<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“GODDAMN
IT!” Warren shouted involuntarily, and he threw the handset at the wall. “FUCK
YOU!” he screamed, nearly hysterical.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
voice from the phone was repeating <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">INTRUDER!</i>
over and over so loudly Warren could hear it clearly even with the handset
lying on the floor six feet away from him, its long, tangled cord still swaying
after his throw. He scrambled over and grabbed the cord so he could hang up,
but he had too much slack, and the handset shot off the floor, smacked him in
the knee, and then ricocheted upward, narrowly missing his chin and nose. After
he finally grasped the handset, the voice still bellowing, he slammed it down
into the cradle and marched toward the stairs, sidestepping the bag and the
mud, maniacally determined to leave as fast as possible.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Before
he made it to the stairs, though, he heard one of the bedroom doors pop open down
the hall back beyond the front door, and he froze in place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Heavy
footsteps in the hall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Who’s
there?” Warren called.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
footsteps stopped, but he still heard the floorboards creak as if under
shifting weight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Answer
me,” Warren demanded. “Who’s there?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
same voice from the phone, the quieter one: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Intruder</i>.
Warren’s heart felt like it would stop. He tried to say something, but his
mouth and throat suddenly felt sandblasted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Then the louder voice came again: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">INTRUDER! </i><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">It was so loud Warren's ears went staticky.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warren
ran. Out of the kitchen, down the stairs two and three at a time. He bolted
into the rec room and all the way to the pool table, throwing himself
underneath to grab his bag and windbreaker. His head was a maelstrom of wild
thoughts (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fuckin’ house is haunted! Lost
my fuckin’ mind! Haven’t done drugs or been blackout drunk in
years!</i>), and then he collapsed, openly weeping from fear and stress.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">His
sobs subsided after a few minutes, and he lay there with his face in the old
carpet, snot and tears running into the fibers. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">My phone. Alice</i>, he thought suddenly. He propped up on his elbows and
reached for his phone. Dead. He’d evidently fallen asleep without plugging it
in. “Of fucking course,” he said bitterly and wiped his messy nose on his bare
arm. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Just leave</i>, he thought. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Just leave</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Before
he could push himself off the floor, a billiard ball rolled on the table
surface a few feet above his head. Warren froze and held his breath. He heard
the ball’s rolling cease as it bumped softly against a rail. A few seconds of
total silence. Then another ball rolled. And then came a sound like an entire
roomful of billiard balls hitting the surface in a cascade, repeatedly knocking
and rolling like indoor thunder, and soon billiard balls were raining off the
creaky and swaying table, bouncing onto the carpet and rolling all over the
room, clacking against each other and the baseboards, as though a tornado had
sucked up a billiard hall and spewed its contents all over creation. Warren
watched with wide eyes and was sure he could feel the threads of his sanity
snapping apart. Eventually he just put his head down and hoped it would stop.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">After
a time, there was silence again. Warren looked up and around and saw mounds of
billiard balls everywhere around the table and the room, piled atop each other
despite their surface slickness. He snorted a nervous laugh in spite of himself
at the ludicrousness of the scene.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Then
he heard the creaking upstairs. Feet moving over the floorboards. This time,
though, the sound was heavier, more definite. And soon it became a series of
booming steps, like someone in cinder-block shoes running through the kitchen,
running to the stairs and toward him, bounding down to the basement level.
BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM. The sound was impossibly loud. Warren thought his heart
would explode in terror.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">With
nowhere to run, Warren balled himself up, still under the pool table, face in
the carpet, hands covering his head, knees at his chest. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Go away go away go away!</i>, his mind repeated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Soon
there was silence again. Warren looked up, hoping the balls wouldn’t be there,
but they were. He listened for footsteps in the room but heard nothing. After
gathering his courage, he climbed out from under the table and stood up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">There
really were mounds of billiard balls all over the large room. Easily hundreds
of them. The tabletop held plenty too. Warren looked up expecting to see a hole
in the ceiling, punched through by falling billiard balls, but it was intact.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Fuck
this,” he muttered and dropped to the floor to cram his clothes, shoes and
socks, windbreaker, and phone into his bag. Then he stood up and turned around
to leave and had just begun to maneuver around the balls when he saw movement
to his immediate right. A mini-avalanche of billiard balls clacked down the
slope of a large mound, rolling into his feet and revealing a black hole around
which the surrounding billiard balls somehow maintained their positions, as
though they were shiny round bricks packed into mortar. And then came a sound
he’d heard the night before: a slippery pushing against plastic, trying to get
out. Warren wanted to look away but found he couldn’t. Black plastic began to
stretch outward from the hole. <i>Run!</i> Warren’s mind screamed, but he was
transfixed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">A
tear appeared in the plastic, followed by familiar yellowed flesh, mottled with
grime.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warren.</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> His mother again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warren. Run.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Run.</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">But
it was too late. The thin white arm shot out of the mound and snatched Warren’s
calf so hard and fast that he fell and did the splits, like a bad cheerleader.
The arm already had his right leg halfway inside the hole, and he felt himself
being slowly dragged over billiard balls and carpet toward that opening. Warren
screamed wordlessly and fought to get loose, but what had been set in motion
would not be stopped. As he was pulled into the hole, his left hip in agony
from his backward-stretched left leg, he struggled for purchase on the mound of
billiard balls, but his hands just slid around on the smooth surfaces. Then he
passed completely into the hole, the stench of decay and fetid earth filling
his head, and he was gone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
kicker of elveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15819019135835419846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-13264772450059049502018-10-31T11:20:00.001-05:002018-10-31T11:20:55.868-05:00October Horror Goodies Part 2.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Here's part 2 of my October fetish list. Somewhat spooky story coming this afternoon!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><b>October
Horror Goodie 16/31: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Some Will Not Sleep:
Selected Horrors</i> – Adam Nevill (2016)</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
started this exercise on October 1 by singing Adam Nevill’s praises for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Last Days</i>, and while I’ll eventually get
to another of his novels, we now arrive at his first short-story collection. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Some Will Not Sleep</i> brings together
previously-published stories from throughout Nevill’s career, so it’s
worthwhile for the completionist fan (e.g., me) regardless of literary quality,
but fret not about the quality – all of these tales are good, and several are
superb enough to merit individual mention/inspection. “The Original Occupant,”
with its Briton searching for a lost friend in Scandinavia, is an obvious
antecedent for Nevill’s own <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Ritual</i>
(he himself says as much in the “About These Horrors: Story Notes” section),
and anything related to that book almost has to be golden. “Yellow Teeth” is a
longer story whose length expertly builds both tension and your own disdain for
the roommate/squatter whose audacity drives the plot toward a horrific
conclusion (this tale also inspired a more recent Nevill book, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Under a Watchful Eye</i>). Despite its flat,
placeholder-ish title, “Pig Thing” is an enormously effective example of short
fiction’s compact power: stretched into a novel, this story about a…well, yeah,
about a pig thing selectively stalking New Zealand villagers might easily
become pedestrian, but in short form it’s taut, detailed, and merciless. “What
God Hath Wrought?” is equal parts <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Blood
Meridian, The Dark Tower</i>, and Nevill’s own <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Last Days</i>, all in a dozen or so pages, and if this combination
doesn’t get your attention, then what are you even doing with your life? Here’s
one story you’ll wish were longer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">And
then there’s “The Ancestors,” the best selection in the book. When I finished
this one – think of it as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Toy Story</i>
plus Kôji Suzuki minus any trace of novelty or mirth – I felt I’d been
gut-punched by a gigantic and sneaky fist. It does so much with so little (heh)
in so few pages that I don’t think I could have anticipated the enormity of the
ending, and I doubt you will either. In a lifetime of reading, I can’t recall
ever being this deeply unsettled by a short story. Such is the power of
Nevill’s writing. Worth mentioning too are the hardcover’s tactile pleasures:
the lightly-raspy dust-jacket texture, the luxurious paper stock, the
super-creepy cover art (see photo), the recurring Ritual Limited
black-goatskull-of-the-woods sigil. So, yes, get this book. Your hands and eyes
will thank you, even if its contents prevent you from sleeping. Buy it here: <a href="http://www.adamlgnevill.com/ritual-limited-shop/">http://www.adamlgnevill.com/ritual-limited-shop/</a>.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">October Horror “Goodie” 17/31: <i>Summer of Night</i> (1991)</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Buckle
up, folks, because it’s sacred-cow-stabbing time…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Dan
Simmons needs an editor, or a tough-love friend, or a
tough-loving-editor-friend, or something. He can be an inarguably great writer,
but his books tend to drag on longer than <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Walking Dead</i> (which I absolutely hate). The first Simmons book I read was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Terror</i>, his partial-fiction account
of an ill-fated Arctic expedition that, despite its length and occasional
bloat, is a badass book weaving microbiologist-level historical detail, Inuit
mythology, and ice. (Also, its AMC miniseries adaptation is excellent.) Then I
read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Drood</i>, Simmons’s what-if about
the last days of Charles Dickens, the general unreliability of Wilkie Collins
as a decent human being, and a haint named Drood who perhaps inspired Dickens’s
unfinished final novel and who I, for some reason, picture as looking like Al
Lewis / Grandpa Munster after a head-on collision. The <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Drood</i> concept is fantastic, and many of its scenes are masterfully
rendered, but – and I really think Simmons tried to emulate Dickens here – the
whole affair just takes too damned long. If it were maybe 300 pages – you know,
if it had been edited AT ALL – I think it’d be wonderful. Hell, if someone
would omit half the instances where Dickens says “My dear Wilkie,” the book
might sink below 200 pages. Plus, I wanted to bludgeon the omnipresent Collins
with a pipe wrench before the book even really got going; Simmons’s portrait of
Collins’s delusional, jealous ass makes Salieri look like Fred Rogers. And then
I read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A Winter Haunting</i>, which,
turns out, is a sequel to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Summer of Night</i>.
It’s slimmer and less bloated than <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Terror</i>
and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Drood</i>, and it was a fun, quick
read that didn’t require having read its predecessor first, so if you’re
looking for a recommendation here, this is it: go read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A Winter Haunting</i>. (You should read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Terror</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Drood</i> as
well, but make sure you bring provisions.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Which
brings me to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Summer of Night</i>, and it
mainly just pissed me off. Simmons’s penchant for minute detail and complex
plot skeins is on full display in this book, but I swear it seems like he got
tired, oh, around page 499 and just brought the whole thing to a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">deus ex machina</i>-style close. All the
crazy shit that goes on – an oozing ghost soldier, putrefacted holes in the
ground, disappearing kids, shadows that push against closet doors, preteens
enduring lifetimes of physical and mental anguish in a few days – builds and
builds and builds for hundreds of pages……and then none of it gets tied together
except by small-town association with the much-too-desperately-named
Ashley-Montague family and their Borgia Bell that hung in the old school and
apparently caused lots of the aforementioned crazy shit. How did the bell
accomplish all this? What was its psycho-mechanical makeup? To what end were
kids killed or rendered undead? Whence that funnel-face the antagonists
apparently got while on the attack? Simmons answers none of this, even
obliquely. That old school gets pages and pages of exposition, which was fine
when I thought it had a payoff, but it didn’t. Now, I don’t need everything to
fit together perfectly in the end. I like messy, pomo, avant-garde stuff
aplenty. Not that Scott Smith is any of those things, but I read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Ruins</i> a few years ago and liked it
very much specifically BECAUSE it has no tidy closing explanations, no overt
ugly-Americanism, no global-warming-related mutations. The vines were evidently
just evil, evil carnivores, period. Good. But killer vines in a relatively slim
novel are worlds away from a long and intricate plot that endeavors to paint an
entire community’s population in dusty, often mottled closeup. Imagine <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Stand by Me</i> mashed up with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hellraiser</i> minus the existence of
anything substantive and creative enough to link the two – that’s what <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Summer of Night</i> was for me. I reacted
similarly to this book as I did to King’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">It</i>:
a number of promising elements and a handful of genuinely terrifying moments
that fizzle out lazily in the end. (See? Sacred cows. Told ya.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Lest
I leave the impression that the whole book sucks (it doesn’t), one scene in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Summer of Night</i> is so effective it
almost makes up for the bullshit ending: page 339 in my copy, where Mike
O’Rourke watches Father Cavanaugh get attacked by the ghost soldier in the
cemetery. DAMN, MAN. Otherwise, meh. Go read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A Winter Haunting</i>.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">October
Horror Goodie 18/31: </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Paranormal Activity
2-4</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> (2010-2012)</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
wrote at length here a while back about <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Paranormal
Activity</i> and its spawn, so I’ll try to keep this brief and un-repetitive.
The usual genre and formula qualms aside, I consider PA1 a horror classic –
even knowing it’s fictional, it disturbed me enough to disrupt my sleep for a
night or two, and I’ve enjoyed it on repeat viewings. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">PA2</i> is a surprisingly worthy prequel that sometimes supersedes 1;
some of its plot and setting maneuvers are clever, and the baby-related scares
in particular are ROUGH. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">PA3</i> falters
in some of the usual ways but is mightily effective at times: the sheet-ghost
in the kitchen, the game of Bloody Mary, and the reveal-like climax are all
legitimately terrifying. Given this run, it’s unsurprising that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">PA4</i> fails to live up to its
predecessors’ successes. One of the main problems with the found-footage genre
is the ridiculous contortions to which filmmakers will/must resort to keep the
cameras rolling – after all, without a removed, omniscient, third-person
camera, how else will the goings-on get captured? And while I’m apparently more
willing or able than many to forgive such contortions, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">PA4</i> uses up all my forgiveness: once you resort to carrying around
laptops (or hyper-conveniently leaving them on) set to Skype/FaceTime, your
well is dry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Or
is it? One quick scene in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">PA4</i> is
ingenious, surprising, and effectively spooky. Katie, the demon’s target in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">PA1</i>, now lives across the street from an
unsuspecting family with the nephew she kidnapped in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">PA2</i> (then called Hunter, now called Robbie). Robbie befriends the
family’s similarly aged son, and because the demon (who, we learn in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">PA3</i>, goes by Toby) sticks with Robbie
now, Robbie brings Toby into their home. One night, while they’re playing a
boxing game on Xbox Kinect, the kids realize there’s an extra “player” onscreen
– one more, in fact, than there are people visible in the room. This realization
occurs quickly, almost in an offhand or sidelong fashion, which, of course,
increases its effectiveness, since Toby’s presence is implied rather than
explied even though at one point this extra player looks straight into the Xbox
camera. (Why isn’t “explied” a word? You know what? I’m saying it’s a word.
Stupid prescriptivists.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><b>October
Horror Goodie 19/31: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Clown</i> (2014 –
currently streaming on Netflix)</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">If
you suffer from coulrophobia, don’t watch this film. If you dislike gore, don’t
watch this film. If you dislike clown-involved gore, run. If you dislike clown-
and kid-involved gore, run faster. (Of course, I don’t actually like any of
these things either. I’m just talking about movies. Fictional, fantastical
movies.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Produced
by Eli Roth (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Cabin Fever, Hostel, Green
Inferno</i>, the “Bear Jew” in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Inglourious
Basterds</i>), <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Clown</i>’s premise is
straightforward: a father dons a clown costume to ensure his son gets the
birthday party he wants after the clown they booked cancels at the last minute,
and then afterwards the father can’t get the increasingly parasitic costume to
come off. How the father comes by this clown costume in the first place might
be the stupidest, most far-fetched coincidence I’ve ever seen in a movie (you
almost need to see it to believe it), but if you can get past this bit of lazy
screenwriting, the rest of the film is a lot of scary fun.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Because
it involves kids in dire peril, and because it involves Eli Roth, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Clown</i> is really, really shocking – this
is definitely one of those not-for-the-fainthearted outings where seemingly
every few minutes brings another “Aw, they’re not actually going to do THAT,
are they?,” and then, as sure as you’re born, they do it. I don’t want to give
anything away, but I will say that the semi-climactic set piece toward the end
occurs in a huge indoor playground (ball pits, labyrinthine slide structures,
etc.), and I’ll also say that whoever decided to put that clown in this setting
is a very particular kind of demented genius. Overall, this is a creepy,
well-made horror film that doesn’t skimp one bit on the gritty realism or blood
and guts (and noses, and arms…).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">p.s.
Watch for the confetti! LOL</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">October
Horror Goodie 20/31: </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Pet Sematary</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">
(1983)</span></b></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Pet Sematary</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> is probably my second
favorite Stephen King novel after <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Shining</i>, but it’s the first I truly loved because I didn’t read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Shining</i> until much later. And, to be
blunt, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Pet Sematary</i> scared the shit
out of me almost solely because of King’s evocation of those woods; they’re
frightening on their own – the Lazarusian burial ground and what it rebirths
just add to the horror. In fact, my favorite part of the book is the Wendigo
passage during Louis Creed’s trip to bury Church the cat – that sense Louis has
of something massive moving through the trees became immediate nightmare fuel
for me. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Pet Sematary</i> was also one of
the first novels (maybe THE first) where I truly cherished the movie of it I
made in my head. As a result, I’ve never cared for the 1989 film adaptation,
but I do have reasonably high hopes for the new one about to come out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">October
Horror Goodie 21/31: </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Blair Witch
Project</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> (1999)</span></b></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The Blair Witch Project</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> is embedded
firmly enough in our cultural consciousness that it may be easy to forget a
time when a sizable number of people really weren’t sure whether the story it
tells actually occurred. And while I overall don’t have much optimism about the
general population’s mean IQ, in this case the reason for the uncertainty had
less to do with intellect or reason and had much more to do with the relative
infancy of the internet. In 1999, we did have the internet, of course, and
email and message boards, but social media didn’t exist (at least not in any
widespread way): no mySpace (lol), no Facebook, no Twitter, no YouTube, nothing
that allowed things to go “viral” the way they do now, all of which meant
information traveled much more slowly than what we’re currently used to. Thus,
if someone back then went to the cinema to see <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Blair Witch Project</i> and was on the fence about its
authenticity, we should forgive that someone because fact-checking (wow,
remember “facts”? I miss those days) simply wasn’t the warp-speed process it
can be today.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
guess I’m talking about myself, in a sense. I don’t believe in anything
supernatural at all, and I even read a review of this film beforehand that
stated the filmmakers created both the story and the frankly brilliant
marketing campaign around it, yet I remember going to the cinema on or around
Halloween and being unsure whether I was about to see a documentary or a
(hopefully) well-designed fake. Maybe I just wanted to feel like this to
enhance the viewing experience, but, in my memory, the uncertainty was
legitimate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Regardless,
this viewing experience did not disappoint. Like many other people, I’d never
seen anything quite like <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Blair Witch
Project</i>. I was riveted, and I was thrilled by the folks in the theater who
reacted LOUDLY to the spectacle onscreen – I mean, most of the theater was
shouting stuff like “UH-UH! DON’T GO IN THERE!” and “AW, HELL NO!” and “WHAT
THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” and “SHIT, I’D BE GONE! NOPE! NOPE!” through
two-thirds of the film. It was fun, and the film was scary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">And
then I drove home alone (I went with a buddy of mine, but we met at the theater
and drove separately). I’ve never been so aware of how sprawling and dark the
rear of a standard-size car can be. I had, as the jocks say, my head on a
swivel, constantly looking around for something in the backseat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">It
was awesome.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">October
Horror Goodie 22/31: </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Grave Encounters</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">
(2011)</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
found-footage genre was past stale by 2011, so horror fans then and now are
fully justified in groaning and eye-rolling when they encounter yet another
movie that asks us to believe the camera somehow kept recording (often at a
perfect angle) no matter how much splattery mayhem went on around it. Such is
the case with this movie. A film crew for the fictional reality show <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Grave Encounters</i> goes to shoot an
episode in the also-fictional and allegedly haunted Collingwood Psychiatric
Hospital, and you can probably guess nearly everything that happens next:
skepticism, skepticism-but-WTF-was-that?, disbelief, false alarms, crew members
disappearing one by one, gradual explication, overwrought straight-into-the-camera
soliloquies, blood and gore, et al. And yet, I like this movie. Its setup and
framework are wincingly formulaic, but once the spooky shit starts happening,
there’s something about the way the hospital turns into an architectural Möbius
strip that’s hard to resist – the film crew literally can’t get out of the
building because every potential exit either dead-ends or takes them right back
inside. Plus there are plenty of genuinely terrifying moments, and the ghosts’
scary faces are awesome (see photo). Not a good film by any means but worth
your time for the sturdy scares.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">October
Horror Goodie 23/31: </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Poltergeist</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">
(1982)</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Poltergeist
helped solidify one of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the horror
genre’s most enduring formulas: family with young kids + unexplained occurrence
involving one kid + bizarre/scary events related to said occurrence + quirky
paranormal investigators (typically one female seer and two male technicians) +
revelation of past/heretofore unknown macabre occurrences + epic showdown of
Dark Forces versus family & paranormal investigators + partially happy
ending = horror movie. (Seriously, if you analyze movies from the 1980s forward,
you’ll see that a large number of the scary ones conform almost perfectly to
this scheme.) And this is also another film that’s become so culturally
entrenched (“They’re HEE-er!,” “Go into/away from the light,”“This house is
clear,” etc.), it’s easy to forget that, despite its plentiful schmaltz, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Poltergeist</i> has some incredibly scary
moments: the tree, specters floating downstairs, the deranged howling when
Diane (JoBeth Williams) opens the bedroom door, the mouth-like closet door and
its awful sentinel, that damn clown doll, and so on. However, as with the
original <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween</i> films, I also
bought the novelization of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Poltergeist</i>
back in the early 1980s, and I also read it several times, and I also liked it
better because it was scarier. A LOT scarier. For instance, remember the movie
scene where Marty the paranormal investigator sees maggots roiling out of a
steak on the countertop, pukes in a utility sink, and then proceeds to rip the
flesh off his face in the mirror, all of which was an imagined product of the
poltergeist’s shenanigans (i.e., this didn’t physically happen to him)?
Remember how terrifying this scene is? I’m not exaggerating in the slightest
when I tell you this same scene in the book goes on for several pages, and
what’s described in those pages is immeasurably worse than what’s in the movie.
Essentially, instead of tearing his face off, Marty becomes paralyzed (he can’t
move or cry out but otherwise retains all his senses) and must watch – and feel
– as armies of critters march toward and onto him and skin him clean. As in the
film, all this terrible shit doesn’t physically happen to him, but trust me
when I say this detail matters little to you as a reader. It’s incredibly
disturbing. Sadly, as with the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween</i>
novels, I no longer have this book, but it does appear to be available from
Amazon (et al.) for reasonable sums. You’ve been warned...</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">October
Horror Goodie 24/31: </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Omen</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> (1976)</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">There’s
little left to say that hasn’t already been said about this classic, so I’ll
tell you two things you may not know. (You definitely don’t know the first
one.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
remember my godparents, who were always the coolest people in the world to me,
once talking about going to see <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Omen</i>
in the cinema and describing how my godfather was completely freaked out by
this movie. At one point, a lady in the theater had a bag of some sort whose
shadow or silhouette apparently looked to him like one of the Rottweilers, and
he screamed bloody murder right then and there. God, I love that story.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">As
my previous posts have shown, I really like reading the books on which horror
films are based (or the tie-in novelizations), and this installment’s no
different. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Omen</i> novel is brief,
scary, and enjoyable. I’d even say it’s a bit better than the film because the
film’s look and sound are now somewhat dated – except for the animal-park scene
with those godforsaken baboons. YIKES.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Oh,
also, how about the 2006 remake? (It was released on June 6, 2006 – heh.) It’s
actually not bad, certainly better than some other horror remakes (e.g., <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Amityville Horror</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A Nightmare on Elm Street</i> redos are both
terrible). And casting Mia “Rosemary” Farrow as Mrs. Baylock was a particularly
inspired choice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Hello,
Damien...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEGjCJksfkzYSoWDYUARnwDhomtGrqnYmKp4hzAryRC8L7vMC-piSbFnHWTjNNpTqUNPD88fBvWBXH4npUKXXmxEeXqXGdu6N57xk2Max8Kk103CikfzlY7cIra8NnGChQZT_6i0Jmx2M/s1600/damien.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="433" data-original-width="650" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEGjCJksfkzYSoWDYUARnwDhomtGrqnYmKp4hzAryRC8L7vMC-piSbFnHWTjNNpTqUNPD88fBvWBXH4npUKXXmxEeXqXGdu6N57xk2Max8Kk103CikfzlY7cIra8NnGChQZT_6i0Jmx2M/s640/damien.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">October
Horror Goodie 25/31: </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Shaun of the Dead</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">
(2004)</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">To me,
perfect films can be somewhat different from favorite films. They may often
overlap, of course, but favorites can be imperfect (e.g., <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Apocalypto</i>) while still conjuring certain memories or moods, all of
which combined might make them favorites. And yeah, the films I consider
perfect are some of my favorites: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">No
Country for Old Men, In Bruges, Eastern Promises, Quiz Show, That Thing You Do!</i>,
and so on. But <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Shaun of the Dead</i>
might be the most perfect film I’ve ever seen (I know that’s an oxymoron,
whatever): <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">(a)
It’s HILARIOUS; for instance, the scene where Shaun and Ed are going through
the vinyl collection looking for projectiles to hurl at the undead is, to
borrow one of their phrases, a slice of fried gold:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Ed: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Purple Rain</i>?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Shaun:
No.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Ed: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sign o' the Times</i>?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Shaun:
Definitely not.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Ed:
The <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Batman</i> soundtrack?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Shaun:
Throw it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Ed:
Dire Straits?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Shaun:
Throw it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Ed:
Ooh, Stone Roses.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Shaun:
Um, no.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Ed: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Second Coming</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Shaun:
I like it!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">(b)
Parts of it are genuinely terrifying; the scene with undead Pete lurking in the
shower creeps me out every time, and the last stand at the Winchester is
mercilessly intense (and also super gross when David gets eaten).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">(c)
It’s genius-level clever: “The ‘zed’ word. Don’t say it,” “We’re coming to get
you, Barbara!,” the doppelganger group of friends, et al. The plenteous
horror-genre allusions and callbacks are as spot on as spot on can be.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">(d)
It’s one of the only horror-comedies I like, mainly because of (a) & (b)
above – <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Shaun of the Dead</i> is actually
funny, and it’s actually scary. Most horror-comedies tilt too far in one
direction for my taste (usually comedy), and anyway I’m not much for
horror-comedies to begin with; like the Offspring say, I gotta keep ‘em
separated.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoTyVO3QqTpquYji6yVns1QZvYnp4ehxHq2zmYI89DcCGSucBF2T2R__hT6gTzHrrfbUCl0MGQnLZkCCPqNlpkiC8igXbeGeXtmRhah2mgS_cnjvr5KG2B8IEY6GtbmWYA7Hg03F_w134/s1600/shaun+of+the+dead.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="750" height="340" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoTyVO3QqTpquYji6yVns1QZvYnp4ehxHq2zmYI89DcCGSucBF2T2R__hT6gTzHrrfbUCl0MGQnLZkCCPqNlpkiC8igXbeGeXtmRhah2mgS_cnjvr5KG2B8IEY6GtbmWYA7Hg03F_w134/s640/shaun+of+the+dead.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">October
Horror Goodie(s) 26/31: </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">28 Days Later...</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">
(2002) and </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">28 Weeks Later...</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> (2007)</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Two
words. Say them with me now: FAST ZOMBIES™. I can well imagine that some film
prior to 2002 first introduced the idea of zombies that moved faster than
drunken sloths, but <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">28 Days Later…</i>
certainly rammed this idea into the collective consciousness. And what a
brilliant idea it is. A slow-but-unstoppable horde of undead is terrifying
enough; the unstoppable-AND-hella-fast undead is an order of magnitude worse
(or better, if you’re watching). I also think the speedier variety pings
something in our DNA, a limbic memory that reaches back to our prehistoric
ancestors’ reality of being chased by feral creatures.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">If
you’ve somehow never seen this film and its sequel, here’s a summary: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">In <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">28 Days Later…</i>, lab experimentation on a
“rage” virus runs amok after a band of PETA-like activists tries to free
infected chimpanzees and unknowingly unleashes this virus on London and then
the entire UK. Twenty-eight days after this, Jim the bicycle courier (Cillian
Murphy) wakes up from a coma (he was hit by a car before the infection
outbreak) in an utterly deserted hospital and wanders dazedly around for a bit
before he’s chased by a group of infected he disturbed in a church (this is one
of the scariest movie scenes ever). This chase leads him to two fellow
survivors, Mark (Noah Huntley) and Selena (Naomi Harris, being a total badass),
who explain everything to the still-very-much-bewildered Jim. After “losing”
Mark (in another of the scariest scenes ever), Jim and Selena find two more
survivors, Hannah (Megan Burns) and Frank (the always-wonderful Brendan
Gleeson), and the four of them set out looking for a British Army base that’s
broadcasting “salvation is here!” over the radio. I’ll spare the rest to avoid
further spoilers, but suffice to say that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">28
Days Later…</i> is one of my perfect films: literally everything is handled in
the most believable way possible, the acting is superb, the dialogue is far
superior to that of many horror films, and the scary sequences are so well
executed and so intense that they’re nearly guaranteed to make you physically
uncomfortable, especially on a first viewing. This is a phenomenal achievement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Which
means <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">28 Weeks Later…</i> must be a
disappointment, right? WRONG. In <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Weeks</i>,
we’re (ahem) 28 weeks beyond the events in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Days</i>,
and we begin at a house somewhere in the English countryside, where survivors
are holed up trying to reconstruct a normal life. A young boy on the run soon
arrives, but the undead who’ve been chasing him arrive too, and they proceed to
tear into the house and infect/kill nearly everyone. Don (Robert Carlyle)
escapes through an upstairs window and gets away via boat and canal (my GOD
this scene – YIKES). He ends up working for a US Army outpost in the UK to help
control the outbreak and restore order, and here he’s reunited with his
children Andy and Tammy (the outstandingly-named Mackintosh Muggleton and
Imogen Poots). Eventually the kids get bored and escape the military compound
to visit their old house; the outcome of this visit is one of the scariest,
most surprising turns I’ve ever seen a horror movie take. It is magnificent.
Again, I’ll skip the rest to avoid further spoilers. Unlike <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Days, Weeks</i> has some flaws, the most
egregious of which in my opinion is the dynamic among the US Army personnel –
it’s lazy, obvious, formulaic action-movie claptrap, and it’s worlds away from
the more naturalistic UK Army dynamic in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Days</i>.
Otherwise, though, almost every frame of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Weeks</i>
is fantastic, and it has sequences that are as scary and as effective as
anything in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Days</i> (watch especially
for the subway scene toward the end – YIKES).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Lastly,
the soundtrack to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">28 Days Later…</i> is a
real keeper, equal parts ethereal beauty and abject, teeth-grinding terror. It
adds immeasurably to the film’s already-formidable power.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfPwGMm5wSloEJ_T9iFskBdGjycXJI7Y6ko5hg6UgYQBoGIse8GfmZRRtROUhpUOhT0q3eI0uJCiMxBUSbnrgL5HjzAQxoqOTmzIiUZFbpdOSSWbNdvNSyeCQiLVNEeR5qUB6MoBF0xOw/s1600/28+days+later.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="656" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfPwGMm5wSloEJ_T9iFskBdGjycXJI7Y6ko5hg6UgYQBoGIse8GfmZRRtROUhpUOhT0q3eI0uJCiMxBUSbnrgL5HjzAQxoqOTmzIiUZFbpdOSSWbNdvNSyeCQiLVNEeR5qUB6MoBF0xOw/s640/28+days+later.png" width="418" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">October
Horror Goodie 27/31: </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Ritual</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">
(2011)</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">My
two favorite novels of all time are Gabriel García Márquez’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">One Hundred Years of Solitude</i> and
Vladimir Nabokov’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Pale Fire</i>. Number
three is Adam Nevill’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Ritual</i>,
which should tell you something about the esteem in which I hold it. As with
Nevill’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Last Days</i> (which began this
tedious little exercise), when I finished <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Ritual</i> for the first time, I flipped back to the first page and started
again. It’s that good; it grabbed me that much. (I’ve now read it four times.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Longtime
friends Dom, Phil, Luke, and Hutch embark on a hiking trip into a very remote
Swedish forest, and, as the book’s opening sentence indicates, the trip was a
disaster from the beginning: “And on the second day things did not get better.”
They find a “dead thing” hanging high up in a tree; it seems to be a deer or
elk, but they can’t tell for sure because it’s been so drastically gutted and
splayed. This is the book’s opening scene, and it sets the tone for their
doomed journey. They spend a night in a decrepit cabin that’s abandoned except
for a pagan shrine in the attic, Nevill’s description of which is the first of
many chilling tour de force passages in this book. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tensions
old and new arise as the friends struggle through the woods trying to get back
to civilization, and the being that left the gory welcome in the tree
eventually makes similar work of them all save Luke, who wakes up in a “bed”
and house you almost have to read about to believe. He’s been rescued (sort of)
by a Scandinavian black-metal band named Blood Frenzy who, because they’re a
Scandinavian black-metal band, worship the Black Goat of the Woods and indulge
in ritualistic violence while waiting for/trying to bring about Ragnarok. These
characters – named Loki, Fenris, and Surtr – live with a nameless and
incredibly old woman who tends to Luke’s numerous wounds, but her care has
little to do with Luke’s well-being and far more to do with preparing him for
the sacrifice she and Blood Frenzy have planned. The unfolding of this ritual
makes up the final quarter of the book, the details of which, of course, I’ll
spare for those who haven’t read it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
don’t know how to adequately explain how frightening and well written <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Ritual</i> is. Almost every scene is as
superb as any horror fiction that’s ever been written. The main characters’ ill-fated
passage through the forest is a masterclass in narrative pacing, smothering
dread, and absolutely brutal terror; it’s a real humans-v.-(super)nature
workout, reminiscent of the intensest sequences in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Deliverance</i> (and if you’ve never read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Deliverance</i> – the novel upon which the infamous movie is based – oh
my god do it now). During one of Luke’s attempts at escape from Blood Frenzy,
he ventures into the ancient house’s attic, and what he sees there is one of
the most horrifying and macabre chapters I’ve ever encountered in a lifetime of
reading. And that’s nearly topped by the old woman’s singing near the novel’s
climax along with Luke’s discovery of what her singing actually means. It’s
just a brilliant, brilliant story.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">As
you may know, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Ritual</i> was made
into a film that played in UK cinemas last October and arrived on Netflix in
early 2018 (still streaming there now). My sky-high hopes for this adaptation
plummeted when I learned that the filmmakers cut the Blood Frenzy subplot
entirely; however, while I maintain the film would be much better with that
subplot intact, it’s actually very good on its own terms, in part because the
folk-horror elements that replaced Blood Frenzy are plenty scary. Still, if
you’ve neither read the novel nor seen the film, PLEASE read the novel first.
It is truly one of the greats.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">OK,
we’re down to the final four, all of which will be fairly obvious picks...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><b>October
Horror Goodie 28/31: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The VVitch</i> (2015
– currently streaming on Netflix and Amazon Prime)</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">It’s
rare for a horror film to live up to its trailers [narrows eyes, glares at <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween</i> 2018], so I’m glad that the
joy I experienced when I first saw the trailer for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The VVitch</i> not only remained but grew exponentially. I saw it in
the cinema the weekend it debuted and loved it, but I could also tell that it
requires subtitles/captioning as the period dialect comes so thick and fast
that keeping up can be difficult. Compounding this is the film’s lack of overt
exposition (a very good thing) and use of mostly natural lighting, which means,
because the setting is 1630s New England, it’s dark A LOT, even during daytime
scenes. I’ve now watched <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The VVitch</i>
perhaps a dozen times, and I consider it both a modern classic and one of the
most satisfying films I’ve ever seen in any genre. It’s also, of course,
incredibly frightening.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
story revolves around a family of English newcomers to the continent who are,
as the movie opens, being cast out of their village because the father is
evidently too sternly religious even for these presumed Puritans. The family
then establishes their own homestead out in the wilderness, where things go
wrong immediately: their infant disappears (quite literally); the crops are
shit, so they’re courting starvation; everyone constantly bickers; the
hilarious, proto-ADD twins irritate everyone and sing creepy songs about Black
Phillip, the family’s boisterous goat; and so on. Then the oldest son, Caleb,
becomes lost in the woods, and when he returns, he’s changed – “witched,”
according to his mother, and that’s when everything really deteriorates.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Three
things:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">1. The
scary scenes – the money shots – are just unbelievably terrifying. As awful as
the baby-snatching itself is, what comes next is enough to gray your hair
prematurely. The long, tense sequence where lost Caleb approaches a cabin while
a lovely young witch exits slowly and provocatively towards him is almost too
much to bear. And I 100% hid my eyes in the theater when the kids are locked in
the barn and they hear a loud thump on the roof.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">2. An
earlier post of mine extols the virtues of this film’s soundtrack, and as
marvelous as it is on its own, its true power comes from hearing it accentuate
the onscreen goings-on, especially the Caleb/witch-cabin scene I mention just
above. Unholy shit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">3. The
ending. Jesus, THE ENDING. It’s such a bold move to handle all these events so
straightforwardly and then to conclude the exact same way. A masterstroke if
ever I’ve seen one. But I’ll also point out a delicious bit of IMDb trivia:
“Although the film's plot was intended to be taken literally, director Robert
Eggers has spoken about a few small hints him [sic] and the filmmakers left
throughout the film that one might interpret as reasoning behind the events,
beyond the obvious supernatural. For example, the rot on the corn is ergot – a
hallucinogenic fungus.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Quite
simply, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The VVitch</i> is a masterpiece,
one of the best and scariest films of all time.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">October
Horror Goodie 29/31: </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Shining</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">
(1980)</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">However
old I was when I first watched <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Shining</i> (maybe 12 or 13?), I wasn’t ready. It’s one of the first movies
that truly freaked me out. Obviously, the now-legendary scenes played a huge
part in this: room 237, the elevator gushing an ocean of blood, those damn twin
girls, the quick pseudo-bear-costume-and-maybe-fellatio scene (it’s more like a
flash) that I thought would give me a heart attack the first time I saw it, and
so on. But honestly everything about this film freaked me out. Even to this
day, it’s just SINISTER top to bottom. The lighting is spooky. The camera
movements and angles are spooky. The score is unnerving. Something’s off about
the dialogue patterns – they’re abnormal, sort of floaty, unreal, nightmarish.
The color palette and lighting in that bathroom scene with Lloyd is like a graphic
designer’s depiction of insanity; it hurts my nerve endings when I watch it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Compounding
the internal horrors of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Shining</i>
are the details of its making, especially Kubrick’s perfectionist lunacy and
its effects on the actors. Shelley Duvall physically ran out of tears because
she had to do so many takes requiring hysterical crying, often with Kubrick
berating her, and some people say she never recovered from the experience
(Google her and see what I mean). Scatman Crothers was also reduced to tears at
one point because Kubrick kept making him do take after take after take of one
particular scene, none of which were supposedly all that different. Perhaps
unsurprisingly, Stephen King did not get along well at all with Kubrick and has
regularly bashed this film, saying it’s not a good adaptation of his work and
that the TV miniseries version with Steven Weber is superior (lol, OK dude,
whatever). Then there are the conspiracy theories about <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Shining</i>, most infamously codified in the documentary Room 237,
which is maybe the most batshit-crazy thing I’ve ever seen. While I won’t deny
some of this doc’s theories are interesting, to say its arguments are flimsy is
akin to saying New Orleans occasionally gets humid in August.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">As
much as I love it, I can’t say Kubrick’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Shining</i> is a perfect film – it’s too off kilter for that – but it’s
definitely one of the most singular and phenomenally effective horror movies
I’ve ever seen. Also, the source novel is my favorite Stephen King book by far
(despite the overly sentimental ending); 90-plus percent of it is as scary as
(if not scarier than) the film, especially the room 217 scene (they changed the
number for the adaptation), which, as I said earlier in the month, is the
scariest chapter in all of horror fiction. To underscore this point, I dove
back into <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Shining</i> several years
ago while on a work trip and just happened to read through the room 217 chapter
right before I tried to go to sleep. Note the phrasing here – no sleep for John
that night. ¯\_(</span><span style="font-family: "MS Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">ツ</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">)_/¯<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">October
Horror Goodie 30/31: </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Exorcist</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">
(1973)</span></b></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The Exorcist</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> remains the
scariest thing I’ve ever seen. I was, thankfully, older when I saw this film
than I was with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Shining</i>, but I
still wasn’t ready for it. I distinctly remember watching it in my bedroom when
I was perhaps 15 or 16, and I lasted until the relatively early scene where
Regan’s eyes roll over white and she first makes those awful sounds that we now
know came from Mercedes McCambridge but which seem wholly inhuman nonetheless.
I’m not sure I’ve ever moved faster than I did that night bolting from the
floor to the TV knob (not as many remotes back then, millenials).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
won’t waste time blathering on about how soul-deep frightening this film is, ad
infinitum, but I will make two points.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">1. The
25th anniversary director’s cut (“THE VERSION YOU’VE NEVER SEEN!” screamed the
ads) introduced us to the now-infamous “spider-walk” scene, which did what I’d
have thought impossible: it made <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Exorcist</i> even scarier.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">(I
know you must be tired of this next statement, but I’m an English major – what
else would you expect?) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">2. As
extreme and shocking as the film is–- and it’s <b>still</b> shocking to me, 30-plus
years after first viewing – William Peter Blatty’s novel is just as
extreme/shocking, and in places it’s much, much worse. Even the spider-walk
scene is somehow just as horrifying in print.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Quod nomen mihi est? La plume de ma tante</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">October
Horror Goodie 31/31: </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Halloween</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> (1978)</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">And
so this list ends in the only place it possibly could. Just as the Vince
Guaraldi Trio’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A Charlie Brown Christmas</i>
<b>IS</b> Christmas for me, John Carpenter’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween</i>
<b>IS</b> Halloween.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Like
some other older films on this list, I saw <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween</i>
too early, and it absolutely scared the living shit out of me, far more than <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Exorcist</i> initially because of how
early I saw it. I’ll even say it traumatized me: every darkened space,
jack-o-lantern, butcher knife, sheet-ghost, faux-crystal doorknob, or louvered
closet door was enough to make me worry about Michael Myers to the point of
anxiety. I am not exaggerating. I had sleep problems for an abnormally long period
of time, and while Halloween wasn’t the sole reason for this, I know all-too
intimately that it was a major factor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Eventually,
this fear morphed into the adrenaline rush we horror fans know and enjoy, and
then that morphed into fascination. Similar to my addiction to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jaws</i>, I’m borderline obsessed with the
culture of this film, from its status as one of the originators of the
slasher-flick genre and a bellwether of independent filmmaking to the things
the film <b>doesn't</b> do (no gore, almost no blood) and that peerless 5/4 theme
song.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">FWIW,
(1) I love <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween II</i> (see previous
post); (2) I hate <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween III: Season
of the Witch</i> and have maybe never been as confused as I was when I first
read this novelization/saw this movie and could discern no connection with
Michael Myers, et al. (because none exists); (3) the other <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween</i> sequel-like installments are hot, stinky garbage; (4) I
actually like the Rob Zombie remakes (or whatever they are) a lot – they’re
very different films (bloodier, more violent, far less “innocent”) but scary
af; and (5) I was disappointed by the recently released version of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween</i> – it’s mainly a sketch of what
could have been.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">So I
watch the original <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween</i> several
times a year, mostly during October. It doesn’t really scare me the way it used
to, but I’m always amazed at how that dead white face, some well-placed
shadows, and those spare piano notes can make my skin crawl and worry about the
dark, empty spaces behind me in the living room. May it always be so.</span></div>
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kicker of elveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15819019135835419846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-32958709426120065412018-10-19T11:01:00.000-05:002018-10-19T11:06:17.106-05:00Playmate Of The Month<br />
Yay, Halloween story time again! (The "Halloween Story Time" theme song plays, screaming kids go apeshit, there's a lot of crazed horn-honking for some reason).<br />
<br />
This story's kinda I-dunno. There's things I like about it, things I know are in the way but I can't seem to make myself kill-my-darlings about because I'm a stubborn and angry fanatic, and things that I'm not sure will work or not. YOU be the judge! You'll either love it, or you'll hate it, or you'll think it's okay. If you think I'm goofy at the end of it, then, perhaps, I'm goofy. Not my favorite thing I ever wrote, but you can only do so much revising before it just turns into picking-at-it-and-then-it'll-get-infected, so, here it goes. In any case, it should be entertaining enough, with that smartass girl in it.<br />
<br />
And, as always, there's a LOT of this kind of thing on the blog, and some's better, so please browse heavily and remember that constructive feedback is extremely welcome -- it's the only payment any of us get for this stuff, so don't be shy. Stay tuned to this space, because KickerOfElves may have another story up by the end of the month. If I un-lazy myself enough, I may revise one I've got, too.<br />
<br />
Meantimes, here's a handy list o' further adventures in literary buttkickin', all free of charge.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
KickerOfElves:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2018/03/the-genius-of-sea.html" target="_blank">The Genius of the Sea</a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/rigor-mortis.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Rigor Mortis</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/men-with-knives.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Men With Knives</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Profbolt:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/08/east-of-rulesville-guest-short-story.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">East of Rulesville</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My stuff:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/10/all-angels-are-sleeping-now.html" target="_blank">All The Angels Are Sleeping Now</a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/09/the-nonsense.html" target="_blank">The Nonsense </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/03/out-by-turbines_13.html" target="_blank">Out By The Turbines </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/10/we-will-meet-on-that-beautiful-shore.html" target="_blank">We Will Meet On That Beautiful Shore </a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-guy-in-hallway-show.html" target="_blank">The Guy-In-The-Hallway Show </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/the-screaming-head-of-sister-mary-agnes.html" target="_blank">The Screaming Head of Sister Mary Agnes </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/10/pray-for-agatha-burning-in-hell.html" target="_blank">Pray For Agatha, Burning In Hell </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-night-is-filled-with-maniacs.html">The Night Is Filled With Maniacs </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/03/gone-shootin.html" target="_blank">Gone Shootin' </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/some-kinda-hate.html" target="_blank">Some Kinda Hate </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/creak.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Creak</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/shrouded-in-rain.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shrouded In Rain </span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2013/11/bodies-not-recovered.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Bodies Not Recovered</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/10/scribblebones.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scribblebones</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/long-tall-sally.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Long Tall Sally</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/shik-chuff.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shik-Chuff</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/11/damp-basements-of-heaven.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">The Damp Basements of Heaven</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2010/10/up-stairs-where-windows-are-painted.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Up The Stairs Where The Windows Are Painted Black</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/665-1.html" target="_blank">665+1 </a></span></div>
And <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/10/pleasant-dreams.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">little descriptions of actual nightmares I’ve had</span></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
===============<br />
<br />
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<br />
<h2 class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span><span style="color: red;">PLAYMATE
OF THE MONTH</span></h2>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
When
they entered his apartment and he got his first look at Heidi in true light
instead of the stylishly-divey dimness of Ye Olde Waterin’ Hole, Pete had to choke
back an “oh my god.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was even better
than he’d thought, moving straight from hottie to the
maybe-the-prettiest-girl-I’ve-ever-seen category.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Already making notes in his head about how
he wanted to describe her when he bragged about this on his YouTube channel, he
started conniving means to get trophy pics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>No one would ever believe him otherwise; she was a proof-needed girl.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Heidi
was tall, slim, almost spindly, but with just a magnificent ass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Underperforming a bit in the tit department,
yes, but that face, oh dear god that face could make him forgive anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Semi-hippie-girl hair hung straight to the
bottom of her ribcage, brown, but the bright light of his apartment was picking
out flows of honey in the midst.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her
eyes were green but there were drops of honey there, too, splashes of molten
gold on jade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her nose was small, cutely
just-enough-pugged, and she had a soft pink gently-triangular mouth that spread
into a drowsy smile around perfect teeth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Wow, I like your apartment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So
tidy!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her voice had even more honey in it, with a
slight raspy purr that tickled inside his head, warm and rich and thickly sweet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Goddamn
hot-hot-HOT.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“I
try to keep it that way, but it’s a battle,” Pete said, one of the first
non-lies he’d spoken tonight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had a
natural inclination to be lazy and messy but one of his YouTube gurus had a big
“clean your room” law for young men, and Pete was trying to follow the rules of
success to the letter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His father – a
weak man who his mom was always chasing off -- hadn’t taught him much, so when
he entered his twenties he’d started working hard at playing catch-up from
fathers-of-choice he’d hunted down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
conquest of Heidi was to be part of his revised manhood.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
He
led her into his kitchen, poured a bowl full of pretzel sticks and slid it
across the counter toward her, then took out the good brandy snifters he’d
special-ordered. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gold-rimmed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A cultured man has cultured things, Heidi
would think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“My
apartment’s such a mess, I’m such a slob,” Heidi said, slipping onto a stool
and folding those crazy long legs one over the other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The friction of fishnetted leg-on-leg yanked
at something in his chest, made him ache.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My god, my god, he wanted that friction around his waist, his neck, it
didn’t matter.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“I
doubt that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You don’t look like any kind
of slob,” he said, taking out a bottle of brandy he really couldn’t
afford.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Like, not at all, actually.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“I
am, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You should see me eat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need two bibs, one for the back.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She rolled those eyes,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>spread a lazy smile, and poked a lucky
pretzel stick into it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He uncapped the
brandy and she pushed her snifter away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“None for me, thanks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You already
got me to your apartment, dude, no sense wasting that high-dollar poonshine on
me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Pete
laughed, shocked at the bluntness of her terminology.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pushing the glass away had looked like some
kind of chess move he wasn’t sure how to counter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’d hardly consider it wasted,” he said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She
gave him another smirky smile and shrugged, then nibbled another pretzel.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Hey,
what’s your last name again?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pete
asked, pouring himself some brandy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I
didn’t catch it back at that noisy club.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Maybe
‘cuz I didn’t throw it,” she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“But
it’s Stankbox.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Pete
blurted a laugh, and Heidi cinched her eyes at him and pouted her lips,
teasingly indignant.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Are
you laughing at my name and heritage, sir?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Don’t force me to challenge you to a duel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or a triple, if there’s time.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She raised an eyebrow, squinted one eye.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“You’re
kidding, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jesus Christ!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nobody’s named Stankbox,” he laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was a little nervous, realizing Heidi was
weirder than he’d been trained to handle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Back at the club she’d seemed giggle-dumb and passive, and now this?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Except
for Mortimer Stankbox, poor lonesome bastard that he was,” Heidi said, shaking
a pretzel stick at him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Yes, dear lad,
I am kidding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You see, not only am I
quite pretty, I am hi-larry-<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">yuzzzz</i>.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She made a show of biting the pretzel in
what he found to be a suggestive manner.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“So,
what’s your last name for real?” he laughed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“My
last name for real doesn’t matter at this point in time,” she sighed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“If things go well and there’s fun-fun-fun,
then we’ll worry about such things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For
the record, until and unless I end up liking you, your name’s Peter
Whogivesashit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if it goes real bad,
we’ll even lose the Peter after a week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Your name, I mean, not your <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">peter-</i>peter.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heaven forbid.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She looked at his reaction, then
laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Settle down, I’m not a psycho
or anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am a little awful,
though, I guess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyway, I bet that was
a rough name to grow up with, boys being how they are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With only your friend Dick giving you any
peace.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She flashed her eyes and
smirked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Pete
forced himself to laugh but he didn’t like this much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heidi was too challenging and was wresting
control of the situation from him, and that was not part of his adopted
style.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He considered asserting himself
a bit but that might not work on Heidi, who had far too much self-confidence
for his taste.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If she walked out<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>he’d have to jerk off about her and that’d be
humiliating, plus he’d get no video brag out of it, at least not a truthful
one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t have much experience
with this but supposed some girls were more work than others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d have to play it cooler than he felt.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Is
Heidi your real name, at least?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
He
had to take a laugh for an answer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Well, anyway, I like a direct girl,” he lied,
then sipped the brandy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It didn’t taste
a hundred dollars better than the kind he’d previously bought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of the cost was in the reputation, he
supposed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wished she’d at least try
some, perhaps be impressed, help him out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“You’ll
love me, then,” she said, folding her hands and resting her chin on them,
looking hard at him with crinkle in the corner of her eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“My filter is buh-<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">roke!</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m direct as a
cruise missile, baby.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She drew an arc
in the air with her hand and whistled then boomed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Want an example?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
He
half-laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I don’t know, do I?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Take
a risk,” she whispered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Win a prize.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“A’ight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shoot me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Okay,”
Heidi said, breathed deep, smiled, and said, “You think girls don’t watch those
pick-up artist videos, don’t you?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
A
chill went through him. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d been clumsy
and now he was caught.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And she was,
indeed, direct.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Would she be kind enough
to let him weasel out?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably
not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wasn’t sure how to counter this.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Huh?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What do you mean?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She
rolled her eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Oh, come on, don’t
blow it by lying after I gotcha!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m
here, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even though I knew?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That means I don’t <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">caaarre.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But if you treat
me like I’m dumb, I might get insulted and pack up my pussy and go home.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Well,
don’t do that,” he said, leading her back into the living room, hoping a change
of venue might turn things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was
getting weirded out by the whole thing, shocked by what she was saying,
confused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’d been a plan for this
and it had been torpedoed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Yeah,
that’d suck, huh?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heidi grabbed the
pretzel bowl and threw herself onto the couch and laughed at him, which he <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">really</i> didn’t like, but he had to play
this right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Vulnerability was a bad move
with the female, he’d been told, but maybe he could do some kind of tai chi,
salvage this lay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Okay,
I guess I did watch a few, just for some help, y’know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is it really that obvious?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She
widened her eyes and nodded with tight-lipped teasing grimness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I could practically see you checking off the
boxes in your head, dude-bro.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This-move-builds-on-that-move-and-part-A-intersects-with-part-B-and-then-<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">pussy!</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Flow chart!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Well,
damn,” he laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His face felt hot and
he hoped he wasn’t blushing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Don’t
feel bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought it was cute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean, I’m here, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t mind game players.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like playing, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I especially like being a prize.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I just don’t want you thinking I’m <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">stupid</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Don’t think you’re <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">fooling</i> me
into what I want to do anyway.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Oh,
I don’t think you’re stupid,” he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“If I ever did, I don’t anymore.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Good
boy,” she purred.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a polished
wooden box on the end table and she lifted the lid and looked in. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Humidor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You smoke cigars?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
He
decided to keep trying honesty as a tactic, since he was already caught
anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Not really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I bought all the stuff before I found
that out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Please have one if you like?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She
poked out her tongue and made a face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Not
hardly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cigars taste like late-stage
tuberculosis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, did you think you
should be into cigars ‘cuz all those big-shot manly-mans on YouTube are always
puffing ‘em so smugly?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Well,
something like that, I guess.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pete was
getting a little angry – and a little afraid – at being figured out, but he was
also intrigued, and he <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">really</i> wanted
to fuck her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If this was a contest, he
could still win by being used-in-return.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Heidi might be wise but also seemed to be down with it, no bitchy
feminist. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“And
you aspire to smugness, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everybody’s trying to find their
way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just…”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and dug
at the corner of her mouth with a finger, thinking, then stared at him
intently.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Just don’t put so much stock
in what some buttholes on YouTube say about things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They don’t have magic knowledge, you
know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anybody can put up those videos,
they don’t know any more than you do, most of the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They just present bullshit confidently,
convince you you’re incomplete, then sell you the spare parts so they can have little
copies of themselves around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That way
they don’t have to be the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">only</i> dorky asshole.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nobody leads anyone else for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">their</i> benefit, you know, it’s always the
head of the snake that gets all the glory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And they do it all for ‘likes.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Likes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which is already pitiful
dog-showing-its-belly business.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“You
could be onto something there,” he said, fighting the impulse to defend his
instructors’ honor, but afraid he’d lose <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and</i>
screw up his chance to get laid.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Like
that mig-tow shit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Em-gee-tee-oh-dubya,
‘Men Going Their Own Way.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh no!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What’ll us girls do?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She stared at him with mock horror that
melted into a grin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You realize that’s
basically being gay without committing to the sex-with-other-guys part, yeah?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those dudes want all their real relationships
to be with other men, while just using us dumb girls for sex… and even that’s
mostly just so they can tell other men they did it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sex with another guy, once removed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The girl’s just a conduit and the red pill’s
just another drug that supplies a different set of illusions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mig-tow might just be ‘muh-buh’ – Men Being
Herded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that’s about the dumbest
noise in the world, ‘muh-buh.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can
barely say it without drooling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Muh-buuuhhhh.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sound of a sheep going onto a hook.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She giggled, watching his reactions intently,
obviously trying to trigger him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
He
shrugged, not knowing what to say.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
knew too much about him without even knowing him, and it made him nervous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mostly he resented it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wanted to be mysterious, hard to figure
out, and she’d taken his ego and pantsed it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Now he just wanted it not to get worse.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Heidi
laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You’re getting mad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You want to fuck, not get a lecture, huh?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Well…”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He shrugged and smiled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anger wrestled desire, lost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Maybe
if I recorded it and uploaded it you’d sit through it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe if I intercut shots of Joe Rogan
looking like a befuddled dope.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She made
a Joe Rogan face that was so accurate he had to laugh despite his annoyance,
then she nibbled another pretzel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It’s
okay, sweetie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s even okay that
you’re doing your lifting wrong and it’s giving you titties.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She hooked thumbs under her own and gave them
a peepshow jiggle.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Hey
now…” he said, laughing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His face burned
again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She
smiled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Sorry, I go too far and get
bitchy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s why men start going their
own way in the first place, isn’t it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bitchy girls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sorry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m just teasin’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t worry, I’ll make putting up with me
worth it.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“How?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You gonna paint my house?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He smiled so she’d think he was teasing too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Oooo-hoo,
was I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that</i> bad?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that</i>
mean, am I?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Nah,
I’m just playing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two can, you know.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Good!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">like</i>
playing!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heidi sat up, scratching
herself. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He realized she’d been doing
that a lot. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was a sign of nerves,
he thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The knowledge that maybe she
wasn’t as cool as she was playing it relaxed him a bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I have a game I think you’ll like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You want to play?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-left: .5in; text-align: justify;">
“Is
it going to end up with us in bed?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-left: .5in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She
laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Absolutely!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">is</i>
what I’m here for, even though I’m being difficult about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not stupid, even though I’m cute enough
to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just want a little respect,
y’know?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“You
have that,” he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Shot my game right
down, but I still like you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“You
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">have</i> to,” Heidi said, rolling her
eyes and shrugging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I am <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">adorable!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></i>She hugged herself, digging at her back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Yeah,
I’m kinda picking up on that,” he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She made him nervous, but it was a delicious kind of nervous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was out of control but still seemed to be
headed in the direction he’d planned. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“So.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What I want to play is hide-and-seek,” she
said, rubbing her legs, making him crazy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Isn’t
that kind of a kid’s game?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Not
the way Heidi F. Stankbox plays it!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
threw her arms up in a cheerleader pose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Heidi-seek.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ll love it,
promise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Humor me!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“This
isn’t a trick where you’ll run off and leave me looking stupid, is it?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Heidi
pouted and held up three scout’s-honor fingers with one hand while drawing an X
on her chest with the other. She raised an eyebrow and drew two more X's, then winked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Okay,
I think you’re worth a gamble.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Heidi
got up and ran a finger under his jaw, tilted his chin up, and leaned in almost
close enough to kiss him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Oh, I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">am,” </i>she whispered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He got a good look at the honey swimming in
those eyes and the purr in her voice sent a twinge to his groin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had a few light honey-colored freckles,
and her scent was yet more honey, cocktailed with a mad swirl of supernova
pheromones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it was perfume whoever
invented it ought to be a goddamned billionaire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God god god, hot hot hot, afuckingtomic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was deliciously intimidated, and a little
dazed. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“I’m
going to call you Honey,” he said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“You
can call me anything except tomorrow if you’re no good tonight.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She flashed a smile that was a little
crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Now gimme your shirt.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Why?”
he laughed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“So
I can see them jugs, Ah-nuld!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No,
no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because you’d look even sillier with
your underpants tied around your head, goofus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We need a blindfold.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“What
about I just promise to keep my eyes shut?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She
sighed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Boys who play pick-up artist
games don’t get to use the honor system.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If you cheat, deal’s off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you
don’t cheat…”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She leaned in and
whispered, “…we fuck like da bunnies!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“God
damn,” he laughed, unbuttoning his shirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“You are off the hook!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Heidi
put one hand on her outthrust hip and examined the nails of the other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I get more shirts off of boys with that
line.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Yeah,
I bet,” he laughed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Works
way better than my old approach, which was ‘gimme your shirt or I’m gonna
fart!’”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
He
laughed hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You are a trip, Heidi
Whateveryourdamnnameis.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Yup.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Trippy-trip-trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Said the Billy Goat Gruff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or was that the troll?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did he eat the goats?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would’ve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Mmm, goats.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
He
slipped the shirt off and tossed it to her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Think you’re so bad, don’tcha?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Only
if you ain’t got no kryptonite, son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Now, face the wall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Time to play
Heidi-seek.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She twirled the shirt,
making a long thick strip of it, biting her lip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Feeling silly, Peter faced the wall and
Heidi slipped behind him and put the shirt over his eyes, then knotted and
cinched it, too hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Now count out
loud to six hundred.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Six hundred?!”</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“I
don’t know your apartment!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need time
to find a good place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t half-ass
it when I play hide and seek, dude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
whole-ass it.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“It’s
an apartment, though, not Nebraska!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jesus, six <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">hundred!</i>”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Six
hundred.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Out loud, so I know you aren’t
cheating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’ll be worth it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>C’mon, trust the pretty girl you never saw
before who won’t tell you her last name.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
He
laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You’re making this sound
really attractive, and like a totally smart thing for me to do.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Her
voice whispered in his ear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Like da bunnies. Oh, fink uff da
bun-NEEEEZZZZZ, Pee-tor!”</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
He
breathed deep of her scent, held it in like a toke, reluctantly let it out. “I
repeat, you are a trip, Heidi.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Oh,
darlin’, you just have no idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am a
black-ice psychedelic nightmare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But you
gotsta know, huh?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Huh?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’tcha huh?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Pete
sighed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“God, I am an idiot.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Your
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">dick</i> is an idiot, and you’re
listening to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because it’s being so <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">loud </i>right now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I handed the lil’ fella a megaphone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s hollerin’ ‘C’mon, Pete, let’s go!’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How you gonna have any fun if you’re smart
all your life? This will be fun, I swear to god.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“You
do, huh?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Yep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I bet you actually end up <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">liking</i> me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Okay
then, if you swear to God.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Ha!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next time you should check that the girl’s
not an atheist.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Pete
shook his head and laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“If I hear
the door to the apartment open, deal’s off.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“I
wouldn’t do that to you, sweetie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
play weird but I play straight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Besides,
I’d be cheating myself of something I really want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, one, two…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Okay,
three, four…” he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heidi giggled,
clapped, and scampered off somewhere in the house.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Pete
started feeling really stupid well before two hundred but he kept thinking of
those legs rubbing on each other when she sat, and her scent, and he kept
calling out numbers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could hear her
moving around the house, giggling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
wondered if she were trashing the place and escaping through a window.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If she wasn’t so goddamned motherfucking hot
he’d never put up with even half of this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He was going to leave a lot of this out when he told it to his camera
for YouTube.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He considered himself an
alpha male but sitting with a shirt tied around his head counting for pussy was
decidedly beta-cuck bullshit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If he got
to fuck her he’d be more than redeemed, though, so he kept counting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Three hundred, three-fifty, four.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d never get there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
But
he did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Six hundred!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Okay, <span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>ready or not, here we both come!” he said, and
pulled the shirt off his face and turned around.</span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
One
of Heidi’s black pumps was hanging from his ceiling fan pull-chain, the spike
heel hooked through the pull-ring.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Another
shoe was on the stairs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A fishnet hose
draped the bannister.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
He
smiled, heading up the stairs, finding her blouse at the top of them.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
He
peeked into another room, found her flirty little skirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He hadn’t realized how light the thing was,
hardly more than a scarf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He imagined
that ass, unskirted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He gave the room a
quick search.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No Heidi, but there was a
little black lace bra behind the door. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Okay,
well played,” he laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">really</i> want to find you now!”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Further
down the hall, black silk panties, trimmed in lace, high-cut like Victoria’s
best-kept secret, not much bigger than a candy wrapper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“God damn, girl,” he breathed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other fishnet stocking draped the
bedroom’s doorknob.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You aren’t good at
hiding, leaving a trail like this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
like you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">want</i> to be found.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
In
the bedroom, impossibly, he found one more article.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At first he thought it was some kind of
nightgown, maybe a slip, an ivory-white gossamer thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He picked it up and long strands of brown
hair, honey where the light swam through it, rained down from it.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“What
the hell?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What is this?” he gasped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was impossible, but he knew exactly what
it was.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Heidi’s skin.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No longer beautiful, shed like a husk, split
up the back and shucked.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
He’d
wanted to touch that skin all night and now he tossed it away with a sickened
squeak.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Numb
shock overwhelmed him and shut him down.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“They
never look at the ceiling.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Heidi’s
voice came from behind and above and was full of giggles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a chitinous skritch of something
strange moving, and her voice, with all the honey leached out of it and
replaced by buzz rasped, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Playtime!”</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then a thunderous whir of alien wings as
the Heidi thing swept down onto him, raging with lust.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She
ate his eyes before he even got a good look at what she’d become, and he was
soon grateful since it spared him having to watch the rest of what she did.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<h3 class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>THE
END</h3>
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</h3>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(C) Copyright 2018 by me so don't be a thievin' asshole</span> </div>
Zwolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02364540771153476179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-85536647782003126532018-10-15T16:13:00.001-05:002018-10-15T16:13:22.028-05:00October Horror Goodies Part 1<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Hello there! I'm working on another spooky short story that I hope to
have ready by October 31. Until then, here's a list of horror goodies I've been
posting to Facebook on a daily basis and am now collecting here because I can.
Beware of spoilers, etc. I plan to post another set of 15 on October 30
followed by my story the next day. Enjoy!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">October
Horror Goodie 1/31: </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Last Days</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> – Adam
Nevill (2012)</span><br />
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Adam
Nevill has been described as “Britain’s answer to Stephen King,” which is as
good a description as any to convey the power of his work. Actually, no – here’s
a better one: this book and another I’ll discuss in a future post are the only
ones I’ve ever finished and then immediately started over – i.e., I literally
finished reading the final page, flipped back to the first page, and began
again because I had to re-immerse myself in that world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">In <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Last Days</i>, the world centers on
documentary filmmaker Kyle Freeman, who gets hired to make a film about a
notorious cult called the Temple of the Last Days and, in the process, learns
far more than he should about this cult, its practices, and its awful, awful
summonings. Every passage is loaded with either rumbling dread or outright
terror (how Nevill manages this effect without overdoing it is beyond me), but
one scene in particular rises to the level of a masterclass. The always-awesome Zwolf <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2013/06/triumph-bonneville-of-death-or-last.html" target="_blank">wrote a stellar review of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Last Days</i></a> upon whose excellence I cannot improve, especially his description of the scene in question: “What happens in pages 329 through
333 might make you afraid of the dark for a while, because it’s one of the
scariest written horror scenes since Danny Torrence went into room 217.” There
is no hyperbole in this statement; the Danny-in-room-217 scene from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Shining</i> is the scariest chapter in
all of horror fiction, and the comparable one from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Last Days</i> is either a close second or tied for first. It is
absolutely terrifying. If you’re a horror fan and you haven’t read Nevill,
you’re missing out on some of the best and most frightening work of all time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuNkaAMHZoMi0LqcWlrox6McM5qXUjcFZjJflauPty8nndnsC9NcipAaU7RuodkHOlLRQctdG4kAcKZ3_zRG0aqVbV9TERvB4-ZYO7Uz1QfZnNK-FiCIIWl8u4YB76w9Fv5p98bYEJOpk/s1600/last+days.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="335" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuNkaAMHZoMi0LqcWlrox6McM5qXUjcFZjJflauPty8nndnsC9NcipAaU7RuodkHOlLRQctdG4kAcKZ3_zRG0aqVbV9TERvB4-ZYO7Uz1QfZnNK-FiCIIWl8u4YB76w9Fv5p98bYEJOpk/s640/last+days.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">October
Horror Goodie 2/31: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Blackcoat’s
Daughter</i> (2015) (free with Amazon Prime)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">This
little-known film is taut and full of dread and, like <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The VVitch</i> (you know I’ll get to this one eventually), approaches
its subject matter at face value without hinting much at rational explanations.
Kiernan Shipka (of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mad Men</i> fame) is a
student stranded with another student (Lucy Boynton) and some sort of evil
force at their boarding school over winter break. One of the best things about
this film is that it hits the sweet spot of explication, explaining just enough
to keep you intrigued without leaving too much out (looking at you, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Invitation</i>) or overdoing it (hi
there, 99.4% of all horror movies). Case-in-point: the story involves
semi-confusing but ultimately very effective flashbacks and flash-forwards that
enhance the story and its power instead of functioning as cheap, lazy gimmicks.
There’s also a quick moment near the end whose emotion and unpredictability
pierced my heart; I was so surprised that I rewound and watched this scene a
few times to make sure I had it right. Damn good stuff. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">A final
interesting point: before I watched this film, I read a review that floated a
theory – Kiernan Shipka’s character is actually Don Draper’s daughter (the role
she played) from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mad Men</i> who’s been
shipped off to a boarding school under a pseudonym, and if you watch the movie,
you’ll see it hints at some paternal/familial baggage that aligns rather well
with the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mad Men</i> narrative. This
theory is so fascinating to me that I never want to know definitively whether
it’s true or not – I just want to hold onto it as a useful prism through which
I can view this story.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh5kdoed8Gn-giK3Us4t_bI_X0qaW7Aa8RrsgSF0Zpq4LvQ6HUbezliiJK2HTqMOw6TLeLSk7b6Wz4gjVcm7v2cnDf9lSNe5tdJ1s4GRBqUMGJfJLqR-OFgL4wKNtURibIBxU8i6zcVwM/s1600/blackcoat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="416" data-original-width="739" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh5kdoed8Gn-giK3Us4t_bI_X0qaW7Aa8RrsgSF0Zpq4LvQ6HUbezliiJK2HTqMOw6TLeLSk7b6Wz4gjVcm7v2cnDf9lSNe5tdJ1s4GRBqUMGJfJLqR-OFgL4wKNtURibIBxU8i6zcVwM/s640/blackcoat.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">October
Horror Goodie 3/31: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">True Detective</i>
season 1 (2014)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Though
it’s far more crime procedural than horror, the first season of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">True Detective</i> (which is easily my
favorite single season of TV ever) incorporates lots of horror elements and is
just incredibly, atmospherically creepy in general. Within ten minutes of the
first episode’s start, we’re treated to a crime scene that’s equal parts <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Silence of the Lambs, Se7en</i>, and pagan
ritualism, all of which figure heavily in a labyrinthine plot centered on
seemingly related killings investigated by Rust Cohle (Matthew McConaughey) and
Marty Hart (Woody Harrelson) over a 17-year period. Additionally, the themes
and the dialogue itself allude to (and sometimes flat-out quote) horror-genre
touchstones like Robert Chambers’ short story collection <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The King in Yellow</i> and the works of Thomas Ligotti. I desperately
want to tell you about the show’s two most horror-tastic sequences, but I’m
afraid I’ll spoil something; suffice to say, though, that these two extended
set pieces will probably stay with you for a long, long time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">And
then there’s McConaughey’s acting. Hoo-boy. If you’ve seen the Lincoln car
commercials he was in over the past few years (the ones that <i>SNL</i> masterfully
spoofed), then you already kinda know the shtick he created for the Rust Cohle
character. For me, it teeters on the brink of absurdity throughout all eight
episodes, always threatening to become ludicrous but never quite doing so, which
is a neat acting trick: how did he devise such a drawling, fatalistic
philosopher-poet-special-forces-level badass without turning him into a
caricature? I’ve no doubt he <b>IS</b> a caricature for many people, but he’s fried
gold to me. And he’s endlessly quotable:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I think human
consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution. We became too self-aware.
Nature created an aspect of nature separate from itself – we are creatures that
should not exist by natural law…We are things that labor under the illusion of
having a self, that accretion of sensory experience and feelings, programmed
with total assurance that we are each somebody, when in fact everybody's
nobody…I think the honorable thing for our species to do is to deny our
programming. Stop reproducing, walk hand in hand into extinction – one last
midnight, brothers and sisters opting out of a raw deal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">MARTY:
There’s all kinds of ghettos in the world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">RUST:
It’s all one ghetto, man. Giant gutter in outer space.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
can smell the psychosphere.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">LUCY:
You’re kinda strange, like you might be dangerous.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">RUST: Of course
I’m dangerous. I’m police. I can do terrible things to people with impunity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">You, yourself, this
whole big drama, it was never more than a jerry-rig of presumption and dumb
will, and you could just let go. To finally know that you didn’t have to hold
on so tight. To realize that all your life – you know, all your love, all your
hate, all your memories, all your pain – it was all the same thing. It was all
the same dream, a dream that you had inside a locked room, a dream about being
a person…And like a lot of dreams…there’s a monster at the end of it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">…if
the common good’s gotta make up fairy tales, then it’s not good for anybody.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Transference of
fear and self-loathing to an authoritarian vessel. It’s catharsis. He absorbs
their dread with his narrative. Because of this, he’s effective at proportion
to the amount of certainty he can project. Certain linguistic anthropologists
think that religion is a language virus that rewrites pathways in the brain.
Dulls critical thinking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">If the only thing
keeping a person decent is the expectation of divine reward, then brother that
person is a piece of shit; and I'd like to get as many of them out in the open
as possible.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Yeah,
people incapable of guilt usually do have a good time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">In eternity, where
there is no time, nothing can grow. Nothing can become. Nothing changes. So
death created time to grow the things that it would kill…and you are reborn but
into the same life that you’ve always been born into. I mean, how many times
have we had this conversation, detectives? Well, who knows? When you can’t
remember your lives, you can’t change your lives, and that is the terrible and
the secret fate of all life. You’re trapped…like a nightmare you keep waking up
into.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">There
is no such thing as forgiveness. People just have short memories.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Life’s
barely long enough to get good at one thing. So be careful what you get good
at.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">MARTY:
He ain’t gonna talk with you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">RUST:
I got a car battery and two jumper cables argue different.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
don’t like this place…Nothing grows in the right direction.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">What
happened in my head is not something that gets better.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Someone
once told me, “Time is a flat circle.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">October
Horror Goodie 4/31: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Absentia</i> (2011) (free
with Amazon Prime)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Another
little-known but supremely effective film. Tricia’s husband Daniel has been
missing for seven years, and she’s about to declare him legally dead in
absentia when he shows back up much, much worse for wear. He’s so visibly
terrified he can barely speak, and as Tricia, her sister Callie, and a pair of
detectives try to tease out what happened, he disappears again. <b>HOW</b> he
disappears is a textbook example of (what I’ll call) the <i>Jaws</i> effect: the
mechanical shark didn’t cooperate during production, so Spielberg had to show
it less than originally intended, which is where the movie gets so much of its
power. Same effect here: what happens to Daniel is suggested rather than shown
outright, and that suggestion (involving the mysterious history of a nearby tunnel)
is very frightening indeed, partially because it’s so bizarre and partially
because it’s treated so matter-of-factly. A fantastic, economical film, right
up through the brilliant final moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">October
Horror Goodie 5/31: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hannibal</i> (1999)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">While
visiting a Virginia Tech writing program in 2000, I realized I hadn’t brought a
book along, so I picked up <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hannibal</i>
from a Kroger checkout line and quickly learned how real the clichés “page
turner” and “couldn’t put it down” can be. (I think I read it twice during the
trip.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
sequel to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Silence of the Lambs</i>, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hannibal</i> takes place seven years after
the earlier book’s events and follows Clarice Starling’s troubled post-Buffalo
Bill FBI career deep into mortal danger. After receiving a letter from Lecter,
she sets off to track him down, in the process plunging into the nightmare that
is Mason Verger, the only Lecter victim who survived (a term I use loosely,
given the dreadful state he’s now in). Verger’s bedridden psychopathy gives
Lecter’s a run for its money, and while I won’t spoil anything, I feel at this
point I must warn you: in 35-plus years of reading horror fiction, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hannibal</i> is easily the most disturbing
book I’ve ever encountered. I mean, it is <b><i><u>DEPRAVED</u></i></b>. There are scenes in this
book I’ve never been able to get out of my head, badly though I may have wanted
to. To say it’s not for the fainthearted is like saying water is a little bit
wet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Which
brings up a question: is this a good book, or is it just sensationalist in the
extreme? I don’t know – maybe the latter? – but if you’re looking for something
to give you the creeps this month, you can likely do no better than <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hannibal</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">(p.s.
The 2001 film version isn’t bad, but it pales in nearly every comparable way
with the book.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">October
Horror Goodie 6/31: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The VVitch</i>
soundtrack (2015)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I’ve
talked at length here before about my love for scary music. I have not one but <b>two</b> Halloween playlists on my iPhone that I listen to year-round and on a
constant repeat during October. One of the undisputed highlights of both lists
is the soundtrack to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The VVitch</i>,
Robert Eggers’s 2015 directorial debut that’s one of the best horror movies of
all time. A fair amount of the movie’s power comes from this soundtrack, and
I’ll tell you how I know this…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Within
an hour of leaving the cinema after seeing <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
VVitch</i> for the first time, I downloaded the soundtrack and listened to it
while I went for a walk. Even on a bright, sunny Sunday afternoon, with cars
and people around, I was scared out of my wits: skin crawling, hairs raising,
head looking around for a devil-goat named Black Phillip cantering toward me on
his hind legs. It was <b>awesome</b>!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Here’s
a challenge: I dare you to go walking alone in the woods at night while
listening to this entire soundtrack in your earbuds. I doubt you can do it. I
tried, and I failed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">October
Horror Goodie 7/31: <i>Penpal</i> (2012)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">For
this entry, I find that I again cannot improve on <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2013/06/triumph-bonneville-of-death-or-last.html" target="_blank">Zwolf's review of DathanAuerbach’s terrific novel Penpal</a>, so
I’ll direct you to that while also quoting two critical passages here:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“He
[the nameless narrator] and his mother move away from his old neighborhood and
he and his friend Josh sneak back to his old abandoned house, thinking his
missing cat may have gone back there; the result of that escapade is one of the
most incredibly creepy things I've read in a long life of reading horror – it's
chilling and will definitely bug you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">[As
with the novel <i>Last Days</i>, I read this
review before I read <i>Penpal</i> and
forced myself not to jump ahead to the scene he describes here. And as with the
scene from <i>Last Days</i>, there’s no
hyperbole about this one just above. It is horrifying.]<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Next,
the narrator goes on a movie date with a girl that turns into a tragedy of
horrible creepiness, which will also get under your skin and lodge there,
freezing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">[Same
interjection here: this movie-date scene is <b>CREEPY</b>.]<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">So, yes, <i>Penpal</i> is superb. It also has a
fantastic cover.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">October Horror Goodie 8/31: </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Mama</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> (2011)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Lucas
and Annabel (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau and Jessica Chastain) become guardians for
Lucas’s recently orphaned nieces, who were kidnapped by their
homicidal-suicidal father (a twin, also played by Coster-Waldau) and nearly
killed at a remote forest cabin before he himself is killed by......something.
The girls have been missing for five years when they’re found in the same
cabin, feral and filthy and uncommunicative. With the help of a psychiatrist,
Lucas and Annabel begin the process of helping the girls heal and reacclimatize
but soon discover that something sinister has returned with the girls from the
woods.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Mama</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> is one of those horror movies that
I like quite a lot despite its formula-driven frustrations. First,
Coster-Waldau (<i>Game of Thrones</i>’ Jaime
Lannister) and Chastain are two of the most physically beautiful people on the
planet, so much so that their tritely bohemian existence (he’s an </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px;">“</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">artist</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px;">”</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">; she’s
a bassist in a “rock band”) simply doesn’t ring true for their perfectly
chiseled faces. Second, the totem that horror plot elements must spring from
fractured families is more worn out than old carpet, and this film trucks in it
incessantly. Third, another particularly galling totem, the Female Without
Maternal Instincts Who Will Be Shown the Error of Her Ways, is in full effect
here as goth-lite-rocker Annabel must inevitably begin to feel motherly
stirrings, personality and free will and general human independence be damned.
Fourth, the titular entity gets shown too much mainly because it’s a Guillermo
Del Toro project, so of course the visual grotesquerie has to come front and
center eventually, which naturally means the scary stuff loses its potency
because we get inured to said scary stuff (to be fair, the malevolent entity’s
look <b>is</b> terrifying). Lastly, see how I scare-quoted “rock band” above? Why do
movies so infrequently get actual musicians and music-making right? I’m sure
this same problem exists to some degree for every specialization, but I’m a
lifelong musician, so this is the one that most sticks in my craw. To wit,
Annabel and her band are more of a 2-D cartoon than </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Terrance and Phillip</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Nevertheless,
two-thirds of this movie is frighteningly effective mostly because (sorry to
keep beating this drum) early on the monster is only suggested rather than
shown outright, and the fact that she manifests through and because of
traumatized little kids ratchets up the horror. Watch, e.g., for the scene
where Annabel has her back turned to a noisy closet and thinks that one of the
girls is the cause, only to realize both of them are downstairs. <b>YIKES</b>. I saw <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mama</i> in the cinema when it opened and
(I’m unashamed to say) watched this scene and others between my fingers, so,
yeah, it’s a solid, spooky pick overall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">October
Horror Goodie 9/31: Former neighbors’ Halloween decoration<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
folks who used to live down the street from us once put up one of the best
Halloween decorations I’ve ever seen. It kinda creeps me out to look at this
photo even now, and I’m pretty sure I haven’t gone by this house since that day
without thinking about it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">October
Horror Goodie 10/31: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween II</i>
(1981)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">How
many legitimately good sequels are there? <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Godfather
II, Toy Story 2 & 3, Aliens</i>, maybe <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Iron
Man 2 & 3</i>, probably a few more. I’m no film historian, but I’m
comfortable saying that, money aside, sequels generally suck. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween II</i>, the sequel to one of the
best and most iconic horror movies of all time, is not legitimately good, but
it’s also not terrible. In fact, I’ll argue it does a pretty damn good job of
continuing the story of Michael Myers’s return to Haddonfield to kill off the
rest of his family. We begin with the very end of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween</i>, just after Dr. Loomis shoots Michael, knocking him off
the second-floor balcony onto the grass below, only to discover moments later
that Mike is gone again. Mike knifes his way through town and eventually learns
(via a mind-bogglingly stupid coincidence) that Laurie Strode, the survivor of
the first film (and supposedly his adopted sister), has been taken to
Haddonfield Memorial. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">This
is where <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween II</i> really
succeeds: the atmosphere created by that dark, menacing, nearly deserted
hospital would be unsettling even without Mike lurking around, but you add him
and it’s downright terrifying. Sensing she’s in danger, Laurie hobbles out of
her room and into the hospital only to run into Mike as he shanks a nurse from
behind, and then the real chase ensues. It all ends with Loomis opening the
oxygen tanks (“It’s time, Michael”) and blowing up some of the hospital’s first
floor to rid the world of Mike (haha, right, as if!). And then the film sonically
ends as it began: with the sweet strains of “Mr. Sandman.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">But
here’s another reason both this film and its timeless predecessor are so lodged
in my brain: their novelizations. In 1981-1982, an enterprising someone (or
movie studio) published tie-in novelizations of both films, and me, being the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween</i>-obsessive and book nerd I
was/am, bought both and read them numerous times. As iconic as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween</i> is, back then I actually liked
the book more because it was more detailed and I liked the visuals in my head
more than Carpenter’s (same with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween
II</i>). Alas, though, I lent both books to a girl I liked in college and never
got them back, which really sucks because (a) it’d be super-cool to still
have/read/loan them, and (b) they’re extremely rare now, and thus valuable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Anyway,
if you’ve never seen <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween II</i>, or
if it’s been awhile, it makes for a good, spooky movie night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">October
Horror Goodie 11/31: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Exorcist III</i>
nurse-station scene (1990)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Speaking
of sequels, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Exorcist III</i> is only
a sequel to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Exorcist</i> in name and
in the tacked-on last third of the film. Regardless, it’s a decent horror movie
(though William Peter Blatty’s source novel <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Legion</i>
is much better) that contains one of the best jump-scares ever. The scene is a
slow-burning 5+ minutes, but it’s well worth your time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/z5OGQr3xdfM/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/z5OGQr3xdfM?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">October
Horror Goodie 12/31: </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Shutter Island</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">
(2003)</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Shutter Island</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> isn’t a horror
novel, but I found many of its passages suspenseful to the point of terror. In
particular, the scenes detailing Teddy Daniels and Chuck Aule’s search around
the titular facility for a missing patient as the island prepares for an approaching
storm are absolutely thrilling, and most of the book effectively maintains this
high level of frightening tension. Now, if you’ve seen Martin Scorsese’s 2010 film
adaptation, then you know the twist ending (I won’t give it away), and I had
several friends tell me they figured out the twist ending perhaps 20 minutes
into the film. I, however, was completely blindsided by the twist when I read
the novel, which either means (a) I’m gullible af, or (b) <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Shutter Island</i> is well-written good stuff. I think I’ll go with the
latter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Speaking
of the film, it’s excellent, especially Ted Levine’s brief, scenery-chewing
turn as the Warden: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">WARDEN:
If I was to sink my teeth into your eye right now, would you be able to stop me
before I blinded you?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">TEDDY:
Give it a try.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">WARDEN:
That's the spirit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">October
Horror Goodie 13/31: </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Descent</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">
(2005)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Still
deep in the early stages of healing after losing her husband and daughter in a
car accident, Sarah (Shauna Macdonald) and a group of outdoor-adventurer
friends go on an ill-fated caving expedition. What follows is an exceptionally
well-made horror film whose details I’ll spare in case you haven’t seen it, and
I want to say “you must see this,” but, frankly, this is not a movie for the
faint of heart. It’s rare in my experience to encounter a film this extreme that
also deftly builds suspense, allows for thematic analysis, <b>AND</b> centers wholly
on strong multidimensional women who aren’t there merely to be sexual objects
and/or victims (and <b>WOW</b> does “victims” work in multiple, interesting ways
here). Highly, highly recommended for horror fans with strong constitutions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">October
Horror Goodie 14/31: </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Saturn</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> by
Francisco Goya (1820-1823)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
first saw this painting in a high-school history textbook (where it was called <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Saturn Devouring One of His Children</i>),
and it has spooked me ever since. To me, it’s like a visual representation of
what traditional black-metal vocals sound like, which is neat because it’s one
of Goya’s so-called “Black Paintings.” I hope to see it in person at the Prado
someday.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">October
Horror Goodie 15/31: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rosemary’s Baby </i>(1968)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
older a horror film gets, the less effective it is. Like everything else in
human existence, this statement could never be 100% true across the board, yet
I argue the premise holds up most of the time. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Night of the Living Dead</i>, for instance, cannot possibly still carry
the same power for modern audiences that it must have for those in 1968 when it
was released – virtually everything about it looks, feels, and sounds quaint
(if not downright archaic), from the faded-looking visual palette and crackly
score to the generally wooden acting (and I don’t mean the undead). The film’s
influence and legacy, of course, are beyond question, but its scares cannot
reasonably be expected to hold their potency across 50 years of technical
filmmaking innovation and evolving narrative patterns. (FWIW, the opening sequence of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Night of the Living Dead</i> is one of my
favorites in all of cinema, and, yes, it still creeps me out – the atmosphere
it creates remains full of palpable dread that shambles into outright terror.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Rosemary’s Baby</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> is one of the
major exceptions to what I say above. Also released in 1968 (what a shock that
such an objectively awful year for U.S. sociopolitics spawned genre-defining
horror films), <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rosemary’s Baby</i> tells
the story of Rosemary and Guy Woodhouse (Mia Farrow, John Cassevetes),
newlyweds who move into a new apartment and gradually learn that their
next-door neighbors, Minnie and Roman Castevet (Ruth Gordon, Sidney Blackmer),
are Satanists. To modern sensibilities, this plot must sound positively tame,
and, yeah, the way everything unfolds seems pretty tame overall. But <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rosemary’s Baby</i> works like gangbusters
even now, 50 years on, because the film (a) builds suspense masterfully by
taking its time, (b) gives almost nothing away / confirms nothing until the
very end (read: the final 5 minutes), and (c) treats the goings-on
realistically and matter-of-factly no matter how bonkers they seem (e.g.,
Rosemary’s “dream sequence” might be weirder now than it was back then – it is fucking <b><i>bizarre</i></b>). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Allow
me to use myself as a mini-case study. I was aware of this movie and its
reputation for decades, but I knew almost none of its specific details, and I actually
never watched it at all until perhaps 2011 (don’t ask me how – I guess I just
never got around to it). So I watched it virginally, and I like surprises, so
I’m adept at not picking up on clues (purposefully or not) in order to enjoy
the eventual payoff. And holy shit did that method work well with this film. I
knew, of course, that Guy and the Castevets and everyone else in NYC may have
been gaslighting Rosemary, but I honestly didn’t know what was going to happen
when Rosemary unblocked the secret passageway between her neighbors’ apartment
and her own and snuck into the gathering next door. This gathering turns out to
be a full-on assembly of Satanists, and I’m convinced almost nothing can prepare
you for seeing and hearing these upper-middle-to-upper-class people in suits
and dresses looking very “normal” shout “SATAN LIVES! HAIL SATAN!” as they
explain to Rosemary that her son (whom she was earlier told had died during
childbirth) is right over there in a black crib and that he is the literal son
of Satan, Rosemary having been impregnated by him during her “dream.” At the
risk of projecting my own reactions onto others, I think it’s a testament to
how firmly entrenched our collective / received concepts of good and evil are
that we can still be shocked by the idea that people who look respectable or
clean-cut or “normal” or “typical” (<i>ad infinitum, ad nauseum</i>) could have, shall
we say, bad intentions. In our current sociopolitical climate, this seems
especially significant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">As a
closing thought, even if nothing I say here sounds enjoyable or palatable to
you, you should watch <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rosemary’s Baby</i>
anyway just to see Ruth Gordon in action as Minnie Castevet (see photo).
She very rightly won an Oscar for this unforgettable portrayal, which is
outlandish and hilarious and singular and endearing and, in the end,
terrifying. A character for the ages in a film for the ages.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipqe0gGPned_d8KL_gqKHr3VP30RHmL8eipvc-5Lj0sJgxc0XDso1dl8g11njnUDitBckkTpUwYuw-Yv0f-y4ksXjuwu_zs7A9cZRlKLCV5COUpuVXpGzGUV_nOvgEZobnlcUnr4U5b4c/s1600/minnie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="469" data-original-width="720" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipqe0gGPned_d8KL_gqKHr3VP30RHmL8eipvc-5Lj0sJgxc0XDso1dl8g11njnUDitBckkTpUwYuw-Yv0f-y4ksXjuwu_zs7A9cZRlKLCV5COUpuVXpGzGUV_nOvgEZobnlcUnr4U5b4c/s640/minnie.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">That</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px;">’</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">s
it for now! More to come!</span></div>
kicker of elveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15819019135835419846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-13475630422794442512018-03-22T11:38:00.000-05:002018-03-22T11:38:26.884-05:00The Genius of the Sea<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">A
rare attempt at non-horror fiction (not trad horror, anyway). Short and
to the point(less). Enjoy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">He
triple-layered his clothing and walked into the surf. His plan had been to swim
out as far as he could until fatigue and the sodden fabric pulled him under for
good. What never occurred to him was how strongly he swam, for as he stroked
and kicked, his leather shoes occasionally smacking against one another and
reminding him he was in the water fully clothed, he kept wondering when he’d
start feeling tired and was surprised to find that fatigue seemed rather far
away. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">After
perhaps 45 minutes of swimming and occasional floating, he craned his head up
and looked forward instead of side to side and nearly screamed as he saw
something massive rising out of the water in front of him. He juddered to a
halt while salt water rivuleted down his face and into his open mouth, his
breath rapid from exertion. It was a concrete bridge piling. As his salt-stung
eyes adjusted to the dusky light, he blinked and wondered how this could
possibly make sense: how would an ocean have a bridge? But then he glanced the
shore, and he realized that he’d inadvertently veered left into a part of the
intracoastal waterway even though he’d intended to swim straight out to sea. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I can’t even fucking kill myself properly</i>,
he thought and snorted a cold laugh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">As
he treaded water and looked around (he was still not tired), he thought about
what he was doing. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I just want to go</i>,
he’d taken to telling himself, as though this was the end of the discussion. He
knew how good he had it – a wife he loved, a job he didn’t hate – but he also had
a stain inside that blossomed and consumed him at regular intervals despite the
therapy and pills. And it didn’t consume him like movies and pharma ads showed;
he didn’t mope around the house in sweatpants, sighing and unshaven and looking
at the poor dog who just wanted to be walked. No, he was good at <i>functioning</i>.
He went to work, he socialized, he was attentive to his wife, but he was often
aware that as he looked around in all these settings he saw nothing, and he
eventually realized that the nothingness stemmed from looking inward, which is
when he first truly started thinking about leaving.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Thoughts
about procedure came easily but academically, something held at a comfortable
distance, and he reassured himself that he wasn’t really suicidal, just curious
and escapist, wishing away his feelings with the idea of a painless,
uncomplicated exit, as though he could physically dissolve at will and cohere
somewhere else, far away from people. These thoughts gradually became more
concrete – he imagined several different methods, all clichéd (wrist-slitting
in the bath, gunshot to the head or jugular, stepping off a tall building) but
quickly dismissed these as too messy, for he didn’t want to inconvenience
anyone with a crime-scene grotesquerie. He just wanted to disappear. His first
instinct had been to walk into a forest and keep walking, but this wasn’t
finite enough – no outdoorsman, he might walk out of the woods at any moment
into more suburbia, or, if successful at a forest death, his remains might be
found by someone (hunter, logger), thus violating his commitment to convenience
for those left behind. It was then he thought of the sea.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">When
he began turning these ideas over in his head again as he treaded water, he’d
felt a twinge of worry that he might chicken out, but this turned out to be
unfounded – he felt as calmly resolved there in the cold ocean as he’d felt
when he woke up in bed that morning. So he elongated himself in the water
preparing to swim out of the waterway and head out to sea as planned. He had
just begun kicking and rotating his right arm when something crashed down upon
him from above. The impact drove him about 20 feet under the surface but not
before it broke his back, severing his spinal column and ejecting all his oxygen
in a miasmic plume that was bloody from his hopelessly damaged organs. He
gasped involuntarily and swallowed an immense amount of seawater, the crushing
pain in his flooded lungs somehow overshadowing the agony of his
catastrophically ruined spine and ribs. Within a minute he lost consciousness
and slowly began to sink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
jumper, meanwhile, had died first and died instantly, his entire body
essentially gelatinized when he hit both the water and the swimmer feet first
at nearly 80 mph. He sunk too, slowly, just a few feet above the swimmer.</span></div>
kicker of elveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15819019135835419846noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-78097453687693545112017-12-26T04:26:00.000-06:002017-12-26T04:26:07.575-06:00Best New Music of 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi56p820rXC3BM7LmXIkDcvUJLbiX0ov-8_yhuB6Y4h-4YyXnNLKKSKXnVfxqpN8WvVtU_zRoXDvUS-7wRY7TjUi0P1RV5pWu6D8Wn8btsL3sv-Hc53VVe7B2FMycTIl9ntrGeE0t9g2wgf/s1600/2017.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1388" data-original-width="1600" height="554" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi56p820rXC3BM7LmXIkDcvUJLbiX0ov-8_yhuB6Y4h-4YyXnNLKKSKXnVfxqpN8WvVtU_zRoXDvUS-7wRY7TjUi0P1RV5pWu6D8Wn8btsL3sv-Hc53VVe7B2FMycTIl9ntrGeE0t9g2wgf/s640/2017.gif" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Igorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857186835391466064noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-88994516527241615092017-10-29T14:53:00.000-05:002017-11-01T10:18:28.891-05:00We Will Meet On That Beautiful Shore Well, this'll probably do it for this Halloween. I have another story written and waiting to be revised, but I think it needs more improvements so I don't want to rush it, and, really, nobody wants to read THAT much of me in a month. And since this one's actually partially set on Halloween, it seems more appropriate to close with it and just post the other one later on... doesn't have to be for Halloween. I'll try to scare you any time of the year, I'm not picky.<br />
<br />
This one's supposed to be kinda Lovecrafty ("Shadow Over Innsmouth" in particular, although it has no direct relation). It's a little slow at first to build atmosphere, which makes it a little long, but I promise it picks up and you'll get screaming-black-nightmare payoff. If you've read my stuff before you know when it seems like I'm being nice, I'm just trying to create an opening so I can throw a punch at you. It's up to you to determine if I connect or not, and how hard. But, yeah, my intentions are all bad. ;)<br />
<br />
The first part, with the empty town, is pretty much what I remember of a little Florida town my family and I stopped in on the way home from Disneyland when I was five. I don't know what the name of the town was, but we walked all over it for almost an hour before we found anyone there at all. So, if this creeps you out, be careful where you stop if you're driving through Florida, "Sickertt" is out there somewhere.<br />
<br />
Hope you like, and, if you do, remember, we've got scads more like this. Hit 'em up, and leave feedback, it's all I get out of this besides the exercise.<br />
<br />
Mighty Blowhole Fiction Table of (Mal)Contents:<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
KickerOfElves:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/rigor-mortis.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Rigor Mortis</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/men-with-knives.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Men With Knives</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Profbolt:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/08/east-of-rulesville-guest-short-story.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">East of Rulesville</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My stuff:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/10/all-angels-are-sleeping-now.html" target="_blank">All The Angels Are Sleeping Now</a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/09/the-nonsense.html" target="_blank">The Nonsense </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/03/out-by-turbines_13.html" target="_blank">Out By The Turbines </a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-guy-in-hallway-show.html" target="_blank">The Guy-In-The-Hallway Show </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/the-screaming-head-of-sister-mary-agnes.html" target="_blank">The Screaming Head of Sister Mary Agnes </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/10/pray-for-agatha-burning-in-hell.html" target="_blank">Pray For Agatha, Burning In Hell </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-night-is-filled-with-maniacs.html">The Night Is Filled With Maniacs </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/03/gone-shootin.html" target="_blank">Gone Shootin' </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/some-kinda-hate.html" target="_blank">Some Kinda Hate </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/creak.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Creak</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/shrouded-in-rain.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shrouded In Rain </span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2013/11/bodies-not-recovered.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Bodies Not Recovered</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/10/scribblebones.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scribblebones</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/long-tall-sally.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Long Tall Sally</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/shik-chuff.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shik-Chuff</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/11/damp-basements-of-heaven.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">The Damp Basements of Heaven</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2010/10/up-stairs-where-windows-are-painted.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Up The Stairs Where The Windows Are Painted Black</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/665-1.html" target="_blank">665+1 </a></span></div>
And <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/10/pleasant-dreams.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">little descriptions of actual nightmares I’ve had</span></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
===================================<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="table of authorities"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="macro"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="toa heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Closing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Message Header"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Salutation"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Date"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Block Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Hyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="FollowedHyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Document Map"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Plain Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="E-mail Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Top of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Bottom of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal (Web)"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Acronym"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Cite"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Code"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Definition"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Keyboard"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Preformatted"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Sample"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Typewriter"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Variable"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal Table"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation subject"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="No List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Contemporary"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Elegant"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Professional"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Balloon Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Theme"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" QFormat="true"
Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="List Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3"/>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> <span style="color: red;"> </span></span><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;">WE
WILL MEET ON THAT BEAUTIFUL SHORE</span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard Aston arrived in Sickertt
to find nobody home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The streets were
empty and silent as he left his rental car and started walking, peering in shop
windows and seeing mostly himself squinting back from the ones which were clean
enough, and a bleared ghost in a salt grime fog from the ones which
weren’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He checked his watch; nearly
nine a.m.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was a town of slugabeds,
unless it had died and someone had just forgotten to cross it off the map.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d found that there were few real ghost
towns in America, but plenty of starving ones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Someone, usually eccentric, was always stubborn enough to stay around,
even if they wouldn’t have much of a life there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sickertt wasn’t dead, according to the data
he’d been given, but it appeared to be in the skeletal stage of malnutrition.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The seagull population, though, was thriving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were lined
up on a pier, fat and laughing like asylum inmates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Howard wandered there and looked over the
railing into greasy-looking water that smelled like laundry left wet and gone
sour, moving with a slow rise-and-fall like the blanket over the chest of a
coma patient.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pilings were crusted
with generations of barnacles and long strands of algae that waved underwater,
the moldy hair of someone drowned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
rotten fish bobbed against a piling, giving Howard the stare of a surprised
idiot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“How did this happen?” was
probably the final thought of most things.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He looked out over an ocean
silvery like molten lead, no surf, just slow heaving with a sucking sound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sky was grey and cloud-heavy and the air
had a chill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A beach was no place to be
in late October, as dreary now as it would be cheerful in summer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winter beaches looked like depression.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’d never see them on a postcard.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He looked back over the town,
huddling in his overcoat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sickertt was one
of Florida’s old towns and the streets were narrow, laid down back in the
horse-and-buggy days when there was less traffic, and the buildings were too
close together to do anything about it now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There’d been some attempt to try to direct things by making lots of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>one-way streets, but that only added to the
confusion and made visitors feel like they’d stepped into a cattle chute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Parking areas on the edge of town made it
clear that walking was encouraged, and bicycle racks were evident.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The streets – other than a few which had
required replacing with modern blacktop – were pinkish, cobblestone and shells,
older than anyone living.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The beach in
the distance was glaring old-bone white, made mostly of chalky bits of coral
from a reef that had succumbed to some sort of coral-cancer and started falling
apart back in the 1930s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unless you were
a diver you’d find no trace of it now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A smallpox epidemic had almost
killed off Sickertt in the 1890s, and declining profits in the
non-industrialized fishing industry had steadily gnawed away at what was
left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The town was just one of those
coastal curios now, mostly of interest to historians or tourists stubbornly
looking for “atmosphere,” but the genealogy website that employed Howard had
decided that there was some information in Sickertt’s library and town hall
that would be valuable for filling gaps in their database, so they’d sent him
down to find it and bring back copies to digitize.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Howard felt like the world’s least-important
spy when he was dispatched on these missions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bland, James Bland, double-oh-nothin’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Oh well, when you’d gotten a history degree and didn’t want to teach,
you took what you could get.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The ocean slurped steadily at
the land behind him as he walked back into town, searching for signs of
life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A book shop had cut-outs of
grinning pumpkins and black cats taped to its glass door, so someone was around
to know it was Halloween, at least.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
pushed the door open and old-fashioned bells over the door jangled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Hello?” he called.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Anyone here?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>No answer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The place was open, according to the hours
posted on the door, and a coffee cup on the counter was still warm when he
touched it, but no one was in the place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was rather dim for browsing, full of shelving of such dark wood that
it sucked up all the light, but he saw a mix of a few newer books, most of them
touristy things (pitifully hopeful, he considered that), and more shelves
packed with ratty used paperbacks that’d likely gone through every reader in
town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably a fun place to browse but
he didn’t feel comfortable being in here alone, so he stepped back out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Maybe the townspeople were all
Seventh Day Adventist and spent their Saturday mornings in church, he
decided.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unlikely, but it was hard to
think of any other reason that Sickertt would be so empty.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He walked down the narrow,
somewhat-crooked street, his hands jammed in the pockets of his overcoat,
looking up and down, listening to a line tang-tang-tanging against the mast of
a sailboat and the gulls laughing, smelling fish and salt and seaweed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He found a hotel and stepped into the
lobby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was old but clean and
well-kept, but also on the dim side;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Howard wondered if Sickertt was getting its full wattage from the power
company.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could see a small restaurant
area off the lobby, and it looked pretty nice, white tablecloths and all, but
eerie in its emptiness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He paced the lobby a while, then
stepped back out into the street and walked around, noting how many storefronts
were vacant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sickertt was on life
support if it wasn’t already dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He went
back to the pier, so sun-faded and salt-silvered that the wood gleamed like a
zipper on the ocean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The wood creaked
and clumped with his footsteps as he walked out over the water and squinted
down the beach.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There were two people coming up
the sand, and some others in the distance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Howard leaned on the railing and watched them, waiting for them to get
closer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When they did, he waved at them,
and they waved back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Where is
everybody?” he yelled.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh, they’re around,” one of
them yelled back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Who you lookin’ for?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Anybody, really,” Howard said,
with a nervous laugh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I was trying to
check into the hotel, first of all.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh, the hotel?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yeah, they’re back there.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He waved back at the beach, where more people
were straggling along.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“They’ll be along
directly.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What’s going on?” Howard asked,
looking at the distant group, big enough to be possibly everyone in town.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The talkative one, a big guy
with shoulder-length blonde hair and a thick white sweater and brown pants,
grinned and shrugged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His companion,
shorter, plumper, balder, and wearing glasses and a long black coat, said
nothing, just glared at him, as if he were intruding on a private moment that
didn’t concern him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard laughed and shrugged
back, deciding to ignore the surly one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He supposed he’d get the story at the hotel when the proprietors
returned.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He paced the street a while,
noting the town hall, which was a dark hulking thing that looked old as
sin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wondered where the library might
be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Streets stretched out around him,
but it couldn’t be far; whichever way he looked he could see forests bordering
the village.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It really was a small
place, and at least<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a third of it looked
unoccupied.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He saw a man walk into the hotel
and hurried in after him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The man –
tall, thin, balding, with a heavy nose and long jaw, kind of moose-faced – was
stepping behind the front desk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Hi!”
Howard said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The man looked up and smiled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A smiling moose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Oh, hello.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Can I help you?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yes, I’d like to check in, get
a room for a couple or three days or so.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The moose nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Certainly, certainly!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Glad for the business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Any preference for rooms?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ll have your choice.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Something facing the ocean
would be nice,” Howard said, pulling out his wallet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Say, where was everyone?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve been walking all over town for half an
hour or so, and couldn’t find a soul.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh, yes, sorry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone went to the beach for a town
meeting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing interesting,
really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We get few visitors so we’re a
little lax about manning our posts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Very
sorry about that!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Must have been very
confusing!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A laughing moose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A nervous one.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“A bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought I’d wandered into a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Twilight Zone</i> episode or something.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Probably the one about the man
who walked into the empty town, eh?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“No, I’m afraid it was nothing
nearly so interesting.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He waved it off
with a large hand; Howard wondered if he might have a touch of acromegaly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Not much interesting in Sickertt at all,
really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Visiting a relative?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No, actually I’m here to look
at some papers for a genealogy website.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They noticed they were scant on information from this area of Florida
and sent me to go through some papers at the town hall and library.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The moose nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Ought to be something, if you go back far
enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not much now, but a hundred
years or so ago, this was quite a thriving fishing community, and made a try at
being a commerce port.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lots of bad luck,
though, and we never really bounced back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A smallpox epidemic almost wiped the place out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not sure there’s anything left here of the
old families, but if it’s old information you’re after, I imagine they have
reams of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hope you aren’t allergic to
dust, though, since I doubt anybody’s been interested in it for many a year.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh, I packed a dust mask and
plenty of Claritin,” Howard said, not even joking.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Well, then!” the moose laughed,
handing him a room key.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An actual key,
not a card; Howard hadn’t seen one of those in a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He thanked the clerk and went up the creaking
stairs to his room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only new-ish
things in it were a television and the phone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The furniture appeared to have been bought in the 1970’s, or whenever
tangerine pleather upholstery had been deemed acceptable, but it was well-cared
for and probably hadn’t seen much use.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Howard set down his luggage, looked around the room a bit, then decided
to head to the town hall and start work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He was in no hurry, but it wasn’t a town that gave one much incentive to
linger, either.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He found a staff of two,
accommodating and happy to find anyone actually interested in Sickertt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was dust indeed, and bales of records
bound in twine fished out of boxes, antique papers crabbed with antique writing
in rusty ink.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Quite intimidating, all of
it, and Howard spent most of the day just trying to sort it into stacks to go
through later, to see what would and wouldn’t be useful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was more, they assured him, in the back
rooms.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The day raced by and they had to
nudge him out when they closed at five.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The pudgy lady who’d been so helpful all day adjusted her too-large,
out-of-fashion-for-at-least-two-decades glasses and said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You’ll want to be back at your hotel by
eight o’clock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have a curfew in
Sickertt.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“A curfew?” Howard said,
surprised.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I don’t imagine there’s a
whole lot of night life in a town like this, but a curfew, at eight?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She nodded, her eyes big and
serious behind the glasses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the man
at the hotel were a moose, Howard thought, here was an owl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It’s the best way to keep crime down, we
decided, given the small police force we have.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Welcome to Mayberry,” joked the
dried-up, bent-over little old man who’d introduced himself as Bennie when he’d
brought boxes for Howard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was bald on
the top and the rest stuck out around the sides like frost deposits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked like Charles Dickens’ idea of a
town hall clerk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“We have that kind of
police force.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Andy and Barney, under
pseudonyms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A rowdy drunk would really
give them a challenge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we do have
some rough fishermen come in now and ag’in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Better for everyone if the bars close down before Jay Leno comes on.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jay Leno hadn’t been on for
years, but Howard got the gist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Surely
there’s not a lot of trouble in a town like this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean it as a compliment, not a belittling,
but Sickertt is… quaint.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bennie snorted and nodded his
head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“That it is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But you’d be surprised.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few people quaintly got their quaint little
heads quaintly kicked in before the curfew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Best to abide by it.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Fair enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When in Rome…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“The hotel can feed you, but I’d
recommend the Blue Fin Inn for dinner,” said the owl, who Howard remembered was
named Betty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bennie and Betty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like a vaudeville act.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bennie waved a finger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The cook there’s far too good for this town,
frankly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Take advantage of him,
especially if you like seafood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you
don’t the sucker knows how to treat a steak, too.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Thank you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’ll head over there now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
I’ll see you both tomorrow at eleven, right?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Betty nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“After church.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bennie snorted again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Make it nine if you like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never mind an excuse to skip church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not sure I believe that guff anymore,
anyway.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Bennie, you’re awful!” Betty
said, then turned to Howard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Bennie’s
been down on the Reverend Barlow ever since he got his picture taken with
Franklin Graham.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Political hypocrite, that’s
what that man is,” Bennie grumbled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“A
disgrace to his daddy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve got things
in my handkerchief more worthwhile than Franklin-stein Graham, and I need to
launder it.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Well!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In any case, I’m sure eleven will be fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’ll give me an excuse to sleep late, and I
have some things to work on in my laptop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But if you want to use me as an excuse to skip church, I won’t tell on
you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah, but <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">she</i> will,” Bennie said, shrugging into his coat and shooting a
finger-gun at Betty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Turn me in to the
gestapo.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I certainly will.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If anybody needs church, it’s you, you old
sinner.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They all went out and Betty
locked up the front door of the town hall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A cold, damp chill was rising in from the sea, still sullenly heaving
away at the end of the street, breathing out a touch of mist that might become
fog when the sun went down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The Blue
Fin is two blocks over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Big sign, you
can’t miss it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not much else useful on
that street, unless you’re in need of shoes.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Ugly ones that don’t fit,”
Bennie grumbled.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Thanks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On my way!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And thank you both for your help.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard walked back to the hotel
to stash his laptop in his room, then found his way to the Blue Fin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Service was slow because they didn’t start
cooking until you ordered, but he found it well worth the wait, and he decided
he’d work his way through the menu during his stay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Either the food was really good or working
through lunch had given him an extra appetite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He lingered over dessert, which, appropriate to the region, was key lime
pie that the waiter had assured him was “almost mandatory.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As he finished eating and stepped out into
the street, Howard decided that, however badly its decline, Sickertt still had
at least one thing going for it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Dusk had fallen and the narrow
streets, crowded by the buildings, succumbed to night before the rest of the
landscape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sun was bloated and
bleeding all over the sky, and even though there was over an hour to go before
the curfew, the town already seemed to have put itself to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A window here and there was lit up or
flickering chrome from a television, but most of them were dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Quite a few, he noticed, where
shuttered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being a real estate agent
here would be a profoundly boring and unrewarding job, like selling slow-growth
annuities in a hospice.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As he rounded the corner to go
back to the hotel, a couple of children ran past him, giving him a shove, and
he jumped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One had something like a
pillowcase tied over its head, with shells hanging from it on strings, and
weird stains all over it – smears of berry juice, he thought, which looked like
letters in some foreign writing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
child’s ragged shirt was covered with similar symbols, all smeary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other child had a mask that was so
covered in seaweed that Howard wondered how he could possibly see where he was
going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More seaweed was lashed to his
chest, legs, and arms, enough so Howard could smell him from yards away, and he
turned to shake it at Howard, making a gobbling sound that turned into a
gurgling screech which shot a chill through him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The children giggled in madness and ran
toward the beach.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Trick-or-treating, Howard
thought, remembering that it was Halloween.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He didn’t know what kind of costumes those were, but he supposed in a
town so undersupplied they couldn’t buy anything and had to make their
own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And maybe they didn’t even know
about Batman or Darth Vader here, so swamp monsters and whatever that
voodoo-looking kid had been were the best they could improvise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least they were original.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Strange that they hadn’t been
carrying bags for their candy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe
they were pranking exclusively.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The urge
to raise some hell in an uptight town with a curfew was probably irresistible,
in the way that everyone resents a gated neighborhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Howard never drove into one without fantasies
of arson.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Disturbed by the encounter,
Howard continued up the street, walking carefully as the sidewalk was crooked,
buckled in places, flowing between buildings like a rollercoaster track.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ahead, three more small shapes scrambled
through the dusk, one wearing a flowing sheet which Howard supposed was a ghost
costume.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One child he could barely see,
but something on his-or-her costume was clattering in the dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a gap between two buildings another child
was crouching in the shadows, holding a burning branch; he smelled its pine
scent before he saw her. It lit her face, a grinning little lunatic sporting a
couple of new permanent teeth that made her look like a rodent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her face was painted with dots in tight
clusters, and after spending much of the day poring over sheets tallying the
dead from Sickertt’s smallpox, it seemed in exceptionally bad taste.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He expected the child to pounce out of the
alley and yell “BOO!” but she just crouched and stared and smiled, the frozen grin
of a doll.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She looked too young to be
allowed fire, but Howard wasn’t comfortable talking to children and let it be,
hurrying on.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He ducked into the hotel and no
one was there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He walked around the
lobby for a few minutes, peering into the dining room, saw no one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything was lit, but empty.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It doesn’t matter, he supposed.
He’d paid for the room, he didn’t have to check in with anyone, so he climbed
the stairs and went into his room, still feeling like some trespasser.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He turned on the television and was comforted
to find the same sitcoms you’d find anywhere else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sickertt seemed so isolated that anything
normal and familiar felt like a surprise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He undressed, took a shower, and while he put on his pajamas he looked
out the window.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Some people were ignoring the
curfew, he saw, because there were fires on the beach and more in the woods
bordering the town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could make out
little shapes crossing in front of the fires in the distance, and frowned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those children, maybe?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They certainly took Halloween seriously,
breaking curfew to have bonfires.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Above the sea the moon hung low,
cold and full, spreading light on the water like broken glass on asphalt,
barely moving, a deep-sleep respiratory suck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He could vaguely make out its sound in the night, like a slow march
through mud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With some effort he raised
the window and the air was chilled and scented with burning driftwood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were vague sounds of chanting in the
distance, high in pitch, nothing distinct, nothing that even had the cadence of
English.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He strained to hear it until
the damp chill cut through his pajamas and made him lower the window again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What were they doing?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Were those the children out there?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or the rest of the town?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He couldn’t see much from here, and thought
about getting dressed and going out to see, but his hair was wet and there was
the curfew and it really wasn’t any of his business anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sickertt was one strange town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d come to investigate its past, but the
present decay was more intriguing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard didn’t sleep much that
night, mostly napping with the television on, watching a marathon of horror
movies on Turner Classic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he woke
up at nine and saw Jimmy Stewart in cowboy gear he knew Halloween was over.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was late for breakfast so he
skipped it and got dressed and walked down to the beach, expecting to find the
remains of big bonfires, but efforts had been made to haul the charred wood
into the ocean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Keeping the beach clean,
he supposed, unless they were hiding the evidence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He found bits of blackened bark and spots
where the sand was still warm, and the scent of burning lingered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He walked down the grey sand, a
narrow beach, soon turning to sea oats and weeds, then to piney woodland.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d seen fires off in the forest, too, but
didn’t think it’d be wise to wander into them looking for piles of burned
wood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dead fish were here and there on
the beach, a few just heads discarded by some fisherman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The remains of some furry animal crawled
along the water’s edge, animated by the tide, too waterlogged and gnawed by
some other animal to identify.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>An old man was coming up the
beach, hunting shells, maybe, or just getting a morning’s exercise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When Howard met him, the old man glared at
him with eyes like ice, startlingly blue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Hi, good morning,” Howard said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The man nodded and grunted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His clothes were ragged and it wouldn’t
surprise Howard if this was the town drunk, the way he was staring.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Looked like a busy night on the
beach last night,” Howard said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I was
told there was a curfew.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“There is, for anyone wise,” the
man said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Best not to come out here at
night.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I saw some kids running
around,” Howard said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I guess they were
out for Halloween.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The old man coughed and it
sounded bad, like a dogfight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Ain’t
Halloween.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s the moon,” he said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“The moon?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The old man nodded and kept
walking. “Them kids is bad, you got any sense, you stay ‘way from ‘em.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Will do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But what were they doing with the moon?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Nothing good,” the old man
said, trudging away from him, signaling that the conversation was done.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Well… thanks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m Howard Ashton, by the way.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Good for you,” the old man
grumbled and kept walking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was so
rude that Howard had to laugh rather than be offended.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d hoped he’d give his name in return so he
could ask Betty and Bennie about him later, but he thought he’d be easy enough
to describe, with those eyes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was close to lunchtime so he
decided to drop by the Blue Fin Inn before going back to the town hall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He walked a little further down the beach,
though, to give his new friend Mr. Good-For-You a chance to get away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t want to pass him on the way back
and have another awkward moment; one go-to-hell from a stranger was plenty for
a morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could hardly wait to hear
what Bennie would have to say about his fellow curmudgeon.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There was an unusual amount of
seaweed and a carpet of green algae slime on the beach, a thick stripe of it
trailing through the weeds and into the woods at one spot, and Howard crouched
to dig at it with a stick of driftwood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Barnacles
and little antlers of coral were tangled up in it, and it reeked like a dirty
fishtank.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tide must have been
really high last night, unusually so, because he thought regular exposure to
salt water would likely kill off all those weeds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe that had something to do with the moon,
since lunar cycles had effects on the tides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Maybe the bonfires had been part of some wiccan-type celebration, or
rituals to promote good fishing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or
maybe just kids partying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ones he’d
seen were young for that, but there were likely teens around, too, and no doubt
bored out of their skulls here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
looked for beer cans or bottles but found none.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Tidy hooligans.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Uneasy, he headed back, led to
the pier by the pulsing spang of ropes hitting metal masts, the shrieking
laughs of the gulls, the breath-like wash of tide against piling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He smelled seaweed, salt, wet sand, so rich
it was almost as much taste as smell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Colorful little clams, coquina, smaller than pistachios, bubbled the
sand as he made footsteps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When they
died they left shells like butterflies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A pretty shell is the corpse of something, the horridness rotted out, he
thought, and wondered if that would seem less morbid in summertime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably wouldn’t be much of a beach even
then, just a strip of sand and shattered coral scarcely wide enough to keep a
sand castle out of the surf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the rate
the town was declining he wondered if anyone would be in Sickertt at all twenty
years from today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe he’d come back
to see.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He doubted Bennie and Betty
would be alive then, so he wouldn’t have anyone to visit.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Might as well go see them,
although the rotten sleep he’d gotten left him in no mood to pore over a bunch
of musty papers full of boring data.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
wasn’t sure how useful what he was finding would really be to the website,
anyway, since many family lines had ended in that smallpox epidemic, but they’d
requested the info and he was there to retrieve it, not judge its worth.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He made it back to town and,
after a lunch that cemented the Blue Fin’s reputation, found Bennie at work,
though Betty had stepped out for lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Well, how was church?” Howard asked him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bennie made a sour face and
waved a hand and pressed an “okay” sign to his lips and blew a razzberry
through it, and Howard laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You
tell Betty I did that and I’ll call you a liar, but that’s how it was, a bunch
of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that!” </i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He shook his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Reverend Barlow’d be better off delivering
sermons through his bottom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least we’d
get a laugh.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Howard laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Why do you go?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Don’t know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stubborn, stupid, and old in set in my ways
is probably the truth of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’d think
I’d start to believe more strongly as I get closer to my time to go, but
instead I think more and more that it’s a lot of malarkey to keep morons from
running rampant. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The police can’t be
everywhere, so, they make a big invisible cop who has an even worse jail, and
hope that keeps us from killing each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But people, being what they are, use it as another reason to do just
that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And now it’s more politics than
anything else, and politics that don’t jibe at all with the red words in the
book.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He waved a hand dismissively
again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I never was too devout myself,”
Howard said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It looked like they were
having a revival on the beach last night, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What happened to the curfew?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Some don’t respect it,” Bennie
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“What were they up to?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Fires on the beach and out in
the woods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought it was for
Halloween, but a character I met on the beach claimed it was the moon?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Howard spread his hands and made a quizzical
face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bennie frowned back, and Howard described
his encounter with the old man.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Ah, that’s Phillip
Jenkins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s what they used to call
‘tetched,’ before they came up with the term ‘bat-shit crazy.’”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bennie tapped his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“He’s tetched enough where it’s noticeable
even around here in a town full of eccentrics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yeah, he won’t talk to you much, Phillip won’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mean as a snake and a little less warm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wouldn’t put too much heed to what he
says.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He tapped his head again with a
wink that made him look like Popeye.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Still, it was strange, what
those kids were doing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And there were a
lot of fires, I guess I saw eight, nine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Are there that many kids in Sickertt?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“A <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">disproportionate</i> number,” Bennie said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Not a lot to do in this town, so them as
ain’t too old or ugly to get a chance at it tend to breed like bunnies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Annoying, really.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard pulled papers from a box
and spread them out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Their costumes
were really strange.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seaweed masks and
stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And their behavior was almost
feral.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bennie shook his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I don’t know what they were up to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Never meet any in my line of work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Could be Phillip Jenkins is right; best stay
away from them if they act crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
can’t tell what you’re getting into with kids these days.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bennie shrugged and turned to go back to his
desk and let Howard work, muttering, “Spoken like a true old codger, Benedict.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard laughed to himself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d thought Bennie would have been a
Benjamin, not a Benedict.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wasn’t sure
he’d ever met a Benedict.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>With most of the organizing
accomplished the previous day, Howard got a lot of work done, discovering a lot
that would be exactly what the website wanted, making plenty of
photocopies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The historian in him was
interested in other parts, and alarmed at some of it; he read a report that
during the smallpox epidemic there had been so many bodies piling up that,
fearing contamination, some of the townspeople had loaded boats with the bodies
and sunk them out in the ocean, out beyond the reef.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One guilty report even alleged that some of
the infected that hadn’t died yet had been included in the boats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were certain to die, anyway, so the
townspeople – or the lynch mob section of them, who’d overwhelmed the
opposition of the rest – had claimed it wasn’t murder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, Sickertt’s Baptist Church, where the
lynch mobbers had originated, had later been<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>burnt down by an angry relative.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard thought of asking Bennie
if the arsonist had been one of his ancestors, but decided that could be taken
as offensive.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tired as he was, he was making
such fine progress that he managed to work until closing time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Too weary to go to the Blue Fin, he got a
sandwich in the hotel’s dining room, and it was nothing special but not
bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Back in the room he organized his
photocopies, made a few notes, and settled in to watch television.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>After nodding off over a third
show, he turned it off to get some sleep, but turning out the lights alerted
him to a glow from the windows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He got
up and saw that there were fires on the beach and in the woods again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Past eleven p.m., he noted, well after
curfew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He raised the window and peered
out, and heard giggling from beneath his window.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He couldn’t make out much detail in the dark,
but there were three raggedy children, one holding a torch, all wearing
masks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One mask appeared to be made of
driftwood, formless, not even a face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Something metal glimmered in his hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The children laughed at ran into the darkness of an alley, clattering.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It disturbed him, the weirdness
of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wasn’t tomorrow a school day?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who was letting their children out to run the
streets all night?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did parents here have
no control over their kids?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why even
have a curfew if the smallest children could disregard it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More small figures ran along the piers and
around the fires on the beach, waving torches.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As curious as he was, he didn’t
want to go out there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After what Phillip
Jenkins had said about the moon, the whole thing had the feel of a cult.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even discounting that Jenkins was
batshit-tetched, the costumes and fires were evidence enough of it, and Howard
decided that the cult, rather than fear of drunken sailors, was the reason
people locked themselves away in their houses at sundown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which applied that it was dangerous.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He kept staring out into the
chilly night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone he couldn’t see
was standing in an alley across the street, piping on some kind of flute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a song only in the way a bird’s
tweeting was a song, a few idiot notes, repeated maddeningly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That anyone would want to stand out in the
night doing that bothered him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>None of
it was normal, none of it made sense.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>An answering call, deeper, from
some horn that sounded like the lowing of a cow, sounded from off in the night.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then another low moan sounded
further out, so deep and far and faint that Howard thought he may have only
imagined it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And surely he must have, as
there was nothing that far away in that direction but the ocean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, he thought he heard it again, low and
somehow viscous, thick, glubbering.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The tide, most likely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or an echo of something else, somewhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Were there whales here?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There was crazy laughter off in
the night and Howard closed the window against it, not wanting to hear more.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He had a difficult time finding
sleep, and when he did, bad things were waiting for him there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was wandering through tunnels with Bennie,
somewhere under the town hall, in search of papers Bennie had remembered were
stored in a remote sub-basement. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Howard
was aware of the sounds of chanting, whistling, fluting, and horns from the
land above them, and he asked Bennie about it, but Bennie was babbling
incoherently, making no sense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He led Howard
through a door so rotten it crumbled when he pushed it open, into a room where
papers were piled all around, stuffed in boxes, many moldy and damp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every paper Howard picked up was covered with
scribbling, like a three-year-old’s work, and Howard turned to Bennie to ask if
this was some sort of joke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bennie,
standing with his hands spread to proudly present this treasure trove, was
smiling, showing off all of his teeth, which, Howard noted, were encrusted with
barnacles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Slimy sea-water poured down
his chin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One eye turned inward and then
bulged out as a small crab pushed its way out of the socket.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He wanted to run, but Bennie
grabbed his arm, and there were barnacles and algae on his fingers as
well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He thrust a paper into Howard’s
hand, which he saw was a list of smallpox dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bennie tapped one name with an idiotically-pleased noise, and Howard saw
the name was his own.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He tore away and ran through the
tunnels, took a wrong turn, and found himself back in his hotel room, staring
out the window, seized by the worst sense of dread he’d ever felt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sea was rippling under the moon, and
figures were rising from it, leaving the sea and filling the streets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As they passed under the window he could see
them, grey, dripping, pocked, fish-nibbled, swollen and bloated, sloughing bits
of themselves, eyes glowing like a sky full of cold stars, like the moonlight on
the sea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their sound was a wet tubercular
snore of lungs full of water trying to pull air instead and falling apart in
the effort.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And he heard them coming up the
stairs, rubbing soft and damp as they pressed against his door.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard woke up with a yelp just
as the door was cracking and giving in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He was clammy with sweat and his hands were filled with the sheets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sitting up, rubbing his face, he made himself
settle down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nightmares were silly
things he seldom had, and he didn’t have a lot of patience with himself when he
got them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That one was the worst since childhood.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was early dawn outside, a
pretty pinkish sunrise showing an empty beach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He raised the window and heard the gulls, the tide, the lines tanging
against the masts as the sea rocked boats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was no sign of anyone, anywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The air still smelled faintly of smoke, but the beach where he’d seen
the bonfire was bare.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He took a shower and shaved and
got his mind off the dream by organizing his papers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d try the library today and hopefully get
everything he needed and maybe he could leave Sickertt tomorrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What had been an interesting little town was
getting too weird for him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All those
nocturnal activities were probably just bored kids making their own strange
fun, but it was too much for him and he dreaded passing another night in
Sickertt.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>After a simple breakfast in the
hotel’s dining room, he set out to the library.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was a shabby little building, in need of some upkeep, but not as bad
as the school building across the street from it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Howard was shocked to see the school; it was
abandoned, on its way to being derelict, and it looked like it had been pelted
with rocks by a rioting crowd.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today was
Monday, and the building should have been full of children, but nobody had gone
in there in years, from the looks of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He walked around the grounds, through the weeds, looking for an intact
window.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It looked like someone had made
a point of not leaving even one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’d
done about as good a job on the place as they could without using fire.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Maybe they’d built a new school
elsewhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They must have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d ask about it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He went into the library and
found the place dusty and dim, hardly conducive to browsing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A little old man, bent by a bad back,
scurried out of an office and looked at him, alarmed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Yes?” he snapped.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard was taken aback by this
reaction, but laughed it off and introduced himself and explained what he was
after.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The old man’s defensiveness
thawed a bit and he took Howard to a closet that passed for the Sickertt Public
Library’s special collections.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t
much and Howard thought he could probably be done here by lunch.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“By the way,” Howard asked,
“what’s the story with the school here?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s Monday and the place is abandoned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Is that school closed down, or…?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Don’t know anything about
that,” the little man barked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Home-schooled around here mostly.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“But surely there’s a school
here…” Howard started, but the man scurried back to his office.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard sighed to himself and
thought that maybe he’d found Phillip Jenkins’ brother.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He sorted through the papers and
found a few useful things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The librarian
acted offended at having to change a couple of dollars for dimes for the
photocopier and Howard considered being nasty back to him, just for fun, but it
wasn’t in his nature so he just bore the insult of being treated like a
pain-in-the-ass with some amusement and got his business done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The librarian hid in his office and peeked
out at him like he considered himself a hostage who’d survive if he just waited
for his captor to forget about him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard left the library and went
to the Blue Fin for lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He asked the
waiter about the condition of the school and the waiter was friendly but
obviously uncomfortable with the subject.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“I don’t know much about the school here, really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t have kids,” he laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I understand a lot of the kids here are
home-schooled.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“They must be, because no one’s
going in that building.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It looks like
it’s been attacked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did they build
another, or maybe bus them to another town?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The waiter shrugged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Sorry, I really don’t know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It does seem strange, though.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard nodded and waited for his
lunch, trying to sort the town out in his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Nothing made sense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No school,
despite an obviously sizeable population of children, none of whom, he
realized, he’d ever seen by day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
curfew that seemed enforced only for the people who needed it least – the
adults.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The children ran around late
into the night, carrying Halloween over into the next day with all their masks
and weird flutes and fires on the beaches and in the woods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something about the moon, Phillip Jenkins had
said, though others dismissed him as crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And maybe he was, but… why the masks and the rest of the pagan-rites
trappings?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All this bizarre stuff going
on, and no one seemed to know anything, or, at least, weren’t willing to talk
about it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard ate, torn between his
curiosity to find out what was up with this town and an instinct to get away
from it as quickly as possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If he
rushed through the rest of the material at the town hall he might be able to leave
tomorrow.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He went back to the town hall
and, after some friendly chatting with Betty and Bennie, he brought up the
state of the Sickertt Public School.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“The librarian practically ran for the hills when I asked about it,”
Howard said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“He was literally hiding in
his office.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“He’s very timid,” Betty
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Far more comfortable with books
than people.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I can understand that,” Howard
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’m a bookworm and an introvert
myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And he’s probably not confronted
with many strangers here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the
question about the school’s what set it off, I think.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Well, it’s embarrassing, the
state of that school,” Betty said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Something should really be done about it.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“But where do the children here
learn?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh, we have so few children
here,” Betty said. “Most are homeschooled, I believe.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I see a lot of children running
around at night,” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Howard said,
remembering that Bennie had said Sickertt’s population had a disproportionate
number of kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“They were out on the
beach again last night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of them are
homeschooled?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There seemed to be
dozens!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Might they be bussed to a school
in another town or something?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yes, yes, I believe that’s the
case,” Betty said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I believe so.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She looked evasive, but Howard
let it go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was too old to have small
children so she might not keep up with the issue, but if she were lying he’d
have no way to prove it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And Bennie
wasn’t volunteering anything, just sitting at his desk, frowning.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard went back to his work,
but the questions still plagued him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Betty frittered around awhile and then went out on some errand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Howard waited until he caught Bennie on his
way back from filing some forms to ask him, “It’s funny… if those kids are
being bussed to another town, they’d have to get up really early, wouldn’t
they?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I believe they were out on
the beach past midnight.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bennie’s face writhed through
mixed emotions like the surface of pond that’s just had a rock thrown into
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked out the front door, then
stepped closer to Howard and talked low.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“That bus story?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
bullshit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The home-schooling is
bullshit, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Look, I shouldn’t talk
about this, it’s town business, but asking questions, you’ll get yourself in
trouble.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I didn’t mean to pry into
anything, but… well, it all seems strange.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The school, the kids running around in masks, fires on the beach at night,
chanting, the horns…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">is </i>strange.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I can’t
blame you for being curious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But,
truthfully, nobody knows what those kids are doing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nobody’s had any real contact with them in
months.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bennie nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Not even their parents know what they’re
doing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They all just left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Live in the woods now, I guess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The town decided, after some events, it was
safest to just let it be.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bennie looked
at the front door again, shifting nervously.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“’Events’?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Safest’?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What do you mean?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What’s going on
here?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Christ, I shouldn’t be talking
about this at all,” Bennie said, rubbing his face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Town secrets and all, but I don’t want you
to get into trouble, and questions make people nervous.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Are they just embarrassed that
their children ran away and became feral, or joined a cult, or whatever?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bennie shook his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Well, that’s part of it, but just a small part.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Okay.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He glared at Howard, chopping the air with his hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Remember the day you came here?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How the town was empty?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nobody around, all away up the beach?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some lame excuse about a town meeting, wasn’t
that what was told you?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard nodded.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Well, that was more bullshit,”
Bennie whispered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“They were disposing
of a body that was found on the shore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Or what pieces they could find, anyway.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“A body?” Howard asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Those kids killed someone?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It’s supposed,” Bennie
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“One of the parents, who went out
trying to take his kid back, even after what happened to the others who tried
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Christ, that thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They did a real job on it.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He shook his head and stared back at the
door.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“So why haven’t the police…?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bennie snorted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“They’re not going out in the night trying to
bring in any of those children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You saw
that body, you wouldn’t blame them, either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And that ain’t the only one they found, either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wouldn’t go digging around the dunes, I was
you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Jesus, man…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bennie interrupted him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I wouldn’t do anything, I was you, but pack
up my car and drive out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Send back the
federals if you must, but, I’d leave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Leave
while there’s time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe you’ll have
better luck getting out than the people who actually live here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some have tried, but met bad luck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your company knows you’re here and would come
looking, so maybe you’ll do better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stop
asking questions, pretend you don’t know anything, and they’ll probably let you
through.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard frowned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The whole thing was insane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Well… I only have a little more to do here,
and I could leave tomorrow.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bennie nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Good, that would be good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No offense meant, you understand, I’m not
trying to run you off, you seem like a nice fella, but… this town is nervous.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“This town is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">insane,” </i>Howard said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bennie nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Probably so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But there’s not a lot we can do, given the situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re just coping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stick to the curfew, don’t go out at night,
and everything works out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or it will,
until they decide to break into our houses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And I don’t see why they won’t get around to that eventually.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They already peek in the windows and giggle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Scrape at the screen with knives.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Seems that sticking to the
curfew already doesn’t work, if bodies are showing up on the beach.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Some are stubborn and try their
luck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But there is no luck, not in
Sickertt.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bennie glanced at the door
and hurried to his desk after giving Howard a warning look, and Betty came back
in.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard went back to his papers,
pretending nothing had happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
worked mechanically, preoccupied with what Bennie had told him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some cult of feral children ran loose and the
town just let murders happen?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
lunacy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He hung around, wanting to ask
Bennie more questions, but Betty was always there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The day wore on until closing time, and then
Bennie rushed off, leaving him with Betty, who saw him out and locked up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They made polite chat but Howard sensed an
anxiety in her; he had asked too many questions and she feared there might be
more.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Well, tomorrow he’d leave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were still a few papers to go over in
the town hall but Howard decided he’d had enough to declare his job done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If guilt got to him he’d finish up in the
morning and drive out of Sickertt by noon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bennie, he thought, was overly nervous about his safety just for asking
a few completely-reasonable questions, but this story about a body on the beach
was enough to scare him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t want
to bolt after a few crazy horror stories, but a dignified retreat, that he
would do.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He went back to the Blue Fin Inn
for dinner, which he was too distracted to fully enjoy, then made his way back
to the hotel as dusk was settling over the town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sky was on fire over the ocean; November
sunsets were rarely so spectacular, and he paused by the dock to look out as it
threw orange light across the sluggish tide.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Two children lurked in a nearby
sailboat, peeking at him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One’s face was
smeared with dark green stripes which he thought might be smudges of
algae.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other wore some kind of
carved driftwood mask that covered all of her face except a big grin, permanent
and baby teeth mingled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was chewing
on something that appeared to be seaweed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He hurried away and they
giggled, sounding a little like the seagulls, a crazy edge in it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As he neared the hotel, another child darted
from an alley and ran towards him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
child’s head was wrapped in dirty bandages, with fish bones sticking out here
and there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Howard stepped aside but the
child brushed against him anyway and scurried away, laughing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He felt a stinging on his hip and reached
down, feeling a hole in his pants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
could see razor-clean edges in the slash in the fabric, telling him something
bad was beneath it, and already wetness trickled down his leg.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he poked his fingers into the slit, they
came out remarkably bloody.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now he was angry, but the child
was gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was too much, an
eight-year-old with a razor or something?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He’d call the police, Sickertt’s permissive attitude be damned!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were children, there was no reason to
stand for this!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He pressed his hand to the wound
and limped to the hotel.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Locked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He banged on the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were lights in the window, and the
moose was usually at the desk at this hour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Hey!” Howard yelled, pounding at the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Who
locks the front door of a hotel? </i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Was it even legal, preventing him from
getting to a room he’d paid for?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>No one answered his
knocking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The light in the lobby went
out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Goddamnit,” Howard snarled and
set off back to the Blue Finn to use their phone and attend to his cut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was really starting to sting, and he
wanted to clean it; there was no telling what that child had slashed him
with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He worried how much he was
bleeding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His pants were sticking to his
leg with wetness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>On the way he tried the door of
every business he passed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All locked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Blue Fin, too, was locked,
and dark, although the sign on the door indicated that these were still
business hours.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now Howard was starting to feel
real fear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The anger at being slashed
was giving way to dread of something worse coming.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He headed back up the street and
there was a child standing there, right in middle of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was peering through the eyes of horse’s
skull he’d strapped over his face, and from inside it came a weird fluting sound.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There was another whistling
sound in the distance, and Howard heard many feet running, one street over.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He limped along the sidewalk,
noting that he was dripping blood behind him now, not a lot, but any amount
that’s enough to drip is alarming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He tried
every door he passed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Locked, locked,
locked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The child in the horse mask
watched him, and laughed like a seagull.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You son of a bitch,” Howard
muttered, walking toward the kid, prepared to slap the mask off him, child or
not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kid ran into an alley,
giggling.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Scrambling sounds came from
other alleys, and running on distant streets, with horns, whistles, a
drum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A glance over his shoulder showed
him fires starting on the beach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
was chanting on the wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His pulse
quickened, made more blood flow.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He tried more doorknobs on the
opposite side of the street, but everything was closed to him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If anyone were inside the buildings, they
were hiding from what was about to happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He’d asked too many questions and now he was being served up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A child, surely no more than
five or six, peeked out at him from a doorway, her face painted like a skull,
seaweed and fishbones tangled in her hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She grinned and her eyes glittered with madness in their blacked-out
sockets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In her hands was a hacksaw.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard backed away, not really
feeling threatened – he could kick the snot out of her, but who wanted to have
to hurt a little girl?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He heard
footsteps behind him and another child – a little boy, grinning malevolently
through a sagging headdress of kelp – was running at him with a rusty hatchet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Howard yelled at him and stumbled away as the
boy took a vicious swing at his leg and missed, then ran away laughing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard limped toward the pier, away
from little figures congregating in the gathering dusk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Night was falling quickly and the sun was
almost down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were no lights in the
windows; other than the fires on the beach, Sickertt looked abandoned.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Horns sounded across the beach,
answered by more in the surrounding woods, and the tide seemed to respond,
washing harder against the pilings, shaking the boats so their rigging clanged
against the masts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From beneath the pier
he heard chanting in some absurd babbling-idiot language, glurks and clucks and
gobbles, blubbering.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Stop this!” he yelled, and the
night laughed around him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And then the waves
increased.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The moon was on the water
now, and the surface was stirring, heaving.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Something huge was rising from
the bottom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Howard clutched the railing
and stared at the water, forgetting to breathe.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>With a tremendous sucking sound,
a fetid, slimy mass emerged from the ocean, dripping clots of green-black algae
like wet hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It groaned and slurped,
gleaming snottily in the moonlight, pulling itself free from the muck of the
bottom with wallowing effort until it towered between him and the moon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even from a distance the smell was nauseous,
fish and gangrene.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With a deep moan of
mindless need it approached the shore.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Howard screamed and ran.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Children were gathering in his path and he
shoved past them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Metal and broken glass
bit his hand and sliced across his side, stinging cuts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Get away from me!” he
yelled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The smell of the monstrosity
heaving itself onto the street behind him clogged his throat, thick as a dirty
rag.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His car!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had his car keys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The car was down the street, a hundred yards
or so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could push past the children,
even kick or punch them if he had to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Christ, he was bleeding now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He looked behind him and the
mass was rolling up the street in a dark slimy wave, reeking of fishy rot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The entire sea floor had risen and started to
crawl, and Howard felt his mind would burst with the vileness of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This, the children had decided, was their
god.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the town had left him as a
sacrifice.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He ran.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The children, smiling through their masks,
converged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Silver in their hands brought
the moon to Earth, glittering that knotted his guts with terror.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were only children, but blades were
blades.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were coming for him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yelling, he shoved them
back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something bit at his hand,
clutching his pinky finger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pain was
savage and when he pulled his hand away the finger was left behind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The child had pruning shears, he saw in a
glance as he ran past.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Half his finger was gone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Another child rushed at him,
stuck him in the leg with something, scurried away cawing with the delight of
having done it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He ran onward, ignoring
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A child got in his way and he rammed
a knee into its face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A little girl, he
realized, as she wailed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What he’d done
made him feel sick, but not as sick as losing a finger.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Where was his car?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He forgot exactly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d parked in a little circular parking lot,
but that had been a foggy morning and this was deep moonlit dusk and everything
was different, and his mind was overloaded by fear, unable to handle the complexities
of navigating an unfamiliar town by night.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He glanced back and made out the
slimy mass oozing up the street, stinking like a drowning victim’s
autopsy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The children spread out, making
room for it, wailing crazy words, approving, celebrating.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Somehow, Howard found his car,
more through happenstance than skill, but it took too long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He unlocked it and threw himself in and
locked it again, fumbling to fit the key in the ignition with a hand that no
longer worked the way it used to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
children surrounded the car, chanting, faces hidden by masks and hoods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They raked it with blades and pounded it with
hammers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Metal shrieked on metal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A rear window cashed in and something, sized
only slightly bigger than a toddler, started squirming through the shards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It fell into the back seat and grabbed at
him, started cutting, giggling like madness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As he tried to fight the child
off and another climbed in, slime slapped his windshield and blinded it with
algae and seaweed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sound of slurping
mixed with metal buckling as the god squeezed the car like a giant fist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A child’s face, wound in rotting bandages,
was smiling into his as a mucoid wave washed them both out of the metal that
wasn’t anything like a car anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
was dragged out into the night and carried away to the place on the beach where
what was left of him was found in the morning.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What the children didn’t devour
can still be found, always gibbering and laughing like a seagull, in a mental
hospital near Gainesville.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 12pt 0in 8pt 2.5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: red;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">THE END</span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 2.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 2.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">copyright 2017 by me </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 2.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
Zwolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02364540771153476179noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-18689015925735250052017-10-09T10:36:00.001-05:002017-10-09T10:36:15.793-05:00All The Angels Are Sleeping NowOkay, round two of Octoberfest. I'll warn you, this one's dark even for me, so for the easily disturbed, ya might want to pick something else out of the menu below. For the rest... enjoy? Good luck.<br />
<br />
And yeah, there should be another one, maybe even two, before the month's out, soon as I type 'em up and revise 'em.<br />
<br />
Mighty Blowhole Fiction Table of (Mal)Contents:<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
KickerOfElves:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/rigor-mortis.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Rigor Mortis</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/men-with-knives.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Men With Knives</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Profbolt:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/08/east-of-rulesville-guest-short-story.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">East of Rulesville</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My stuff:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/09/the-nonsense.html" target="_blank">The Nonsense </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/03/out-by-turbines_13.html" target="_blank">Out By The Turbines </a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-guy-in-hallway-show.html" target="_blank">The Guy-In-The-Hallway Show </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/the-screaming-head-of-sister-mary-agnes.html" target="_blank">The Screaming Head of Sister Mary Agnes </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/10/pray-for-agatha-burning-in-hell.html" target="_blank">Pray For Agatha, Burning In Hell </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-night-is-filled-with-maniacs.html">The Night Is Filled With Maniacs </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/03/gone-shootin.html" target="_blank">Gone Shootin' </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/some-kinda-hate.html" target="_blank">Some Kinda Hate </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/creak.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Creak</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/shrouded-in-rain.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shrouded In Rain </span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2013/11/bodies-not-recovered.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Bodies Not Recovered</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/10/scribblebones.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scribblebones</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/long-tall-sally.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Long Tall Sally</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/shik-chuff.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shik-Chuff</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/11/damp-basements-of-heaven.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">The Damp Basements of Heaven</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2010/10/up-stairs-where-windows-are-painted.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Up The Stairs Where The Windows Are Painted Black</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/665-1.html" target="_blank">665+1 </a></span></div>
And <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/10/pleasant-dreams.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">little descriptions of actual nightmares I’ve had</span></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
==============================================================<br />
<br />
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">ALL
THE ANGELS ARE SLEEPING NOW</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There was a woman
in a nightgown climbing onto one of the coin-operated horses outside the Dollar
General, Tanner noticed and was about to mention, but Jackson interrupted with
news that her cell phone had died.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’d die, too, if
you poked at me that much,” Rick said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Every five minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You torment
the poor thing.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I just charged
the battery, like, two days ago,” Jackson said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“I’m worried the damn phone is broken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It, like, comes on for a second, but you touch anything on it and it
blinks out.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She slapped at it and tried
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her face lit up in the darkness
for a second, then was gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Shit.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It’s hiding from
you and I don’t blame it,” Rick said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Anyway, we’ll be back in Tupelo in an hour or so and your laptop’s
there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ll survive.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I got a text,
though, and it’s gonna drive me crazy wondering what it was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who’d be texting me at midnight?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is somebody dead?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Too bad it’s not
working,” Tanner said, digging for his keys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“There’s something over there you could take a picture of.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He thrust his chin toward the Dollar General.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh my god,” Rick
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“What the hell, she dressed like
some Disney princess?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I think it’s a
nightgown,” Tanner said, pulling out the keys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The chain had a disc on it that said PETER; that was his real name, but
since his last name was Boyle some long-ago classmate had started calling him
Tanner, after the smartassed Tanner Boyle in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Bad News Bears </i>movies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He’d encouraged it, because who wants to be called Peter, anyway?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Later he’d found out there was an actor
already named Peter Boyle, but he didn’t look a thing like him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Didn’t look like Tanner Boyle, either, for
that matter, but it was a better name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His grandmother had been so proud of herself for finding a keychain with
“Peter” on it, and had given it to him the day he got his driver’s license, so
he used it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every time he looked at it
he remembered her, dead three years now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She’d gone a bit senile, but never enough to ride the horses outside
Dollar General, thank the Lord.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That,
that was special.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He unlocked the
car door and leaned in to open the others for Jackson and Rick, still staring
at the woman, half-laughing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah, that’s a
nightgown,” Jackson said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The woman was
straddling a blue horse and shaking the hell out of it; even across the parking
lot they could hear her grunting in rage at the lack of cooperation she was
getting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She rared up her heels and
kicked at it and gave out with a scream.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“That is nuts!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it’s midnight,
right?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah, ten past,”
Tanner said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lights of the indoor
flea market they’d been in were already shut down.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sure, that shit
would’ve been perfectly normal around 8:30,” Rick said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I dunno, when is
happy hour around here?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tanner laughed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“She must have
wandered off from her house,” Jackson said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“She can’t have been out here long, dressed like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wonder if she’s okay?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Obviously not,
since she’s trying to ride a pony in a freaking nightgown,” Rick laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“If humping a kid’s ride in your jammies
passes the test, then ‘okay’ is a whole lot different where you’re from.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Must be on
something,” Jackson said, frowning.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Whatever it is,
I hope nobody ever drops any in my drink,” Rick said, getting into the back
seat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’ve embarrassed myself enough
with just beer.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They could hear the
woman yelling across the parking lot even as the car doors shut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Lock all your
doors,” Tanner said, “just in case.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Don’t you worry,
already done,” Jackson said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Jesus,
that’s creepy.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Anybody want to
go put a quarter in the horse for her?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Tanner asked, getting a laugh out of Rick.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It’s not
funny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wonder if we should call anybody
to come get her?” Jackson asked, twisting in her seat to watch the woman, who
was now off of the horse and slapping its face.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You can’t, and I
won’t,” Rick said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’ve got an unpaid
speeding ticket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t want my name
showing up on the police caller I.D. and reminding them I exist.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jackson
laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Idiot.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s how they got Dillinger.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It is not!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They didn’t even have phones then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, they had them, but they were a box on
the wall you cranked and yelled into, like the Waltons.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“At least those
worked,” Rick said. “If Jim Bob was here, he could call the cops.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah, but all he’d
do is tell them good night, like ten times,” Tanner said, turning his car
key.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a click, a brief flicker
of lights in the dash, then nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
tried it again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not even a click.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Uh oh,” he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He pumped the gas, tried it again, got
nothing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh shit, is it
dead?” Jackson asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What do you
think?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He slapped the wheel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Shit!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I left the damn headlights on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The battery’s dead.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tanner
slapped the wheel again and sighed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
parking lot had been so brightly lit and they’d all been talking so much he’d
forgotten about the headlights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
parking lot was still bright, and empty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The last tail lights were leaving, the flea market employees had made
their escape and the whole shopping center was past-midnight-dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Looks like nobody’s having any luck getting
their rides to work tonight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sorry,
guys.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Don’t worry,
things can always get worse,” Rick said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Check out what’s coming across the parking lot.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The woman in the
nightgown had left the horse and was walking toward the car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Half-running, in fact.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh my god,”
Jackson said, grabbing Tanner’s shoulder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jackson was almost-pretty most of the time; a little too skinny, maybe,
her face a little too long and her chin too pointed and her teeth verged on
buck, but otherwise she was cute, large pale blue eyes and almost-white blonde
hair that was long and straight, hippie-girl bangs hanging in her eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now she just looked scared, though, so
terrified that all the cuteness was gone, and that gave Tanner an extra shot of
fear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Terror was infectious.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Rick was
laughing, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He hadn’t caught it
yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Well, this should be fun.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Ain’t the word
I’d use,” Tanner said, twisting the key again, hoping for a miracle and getting
nothing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The woman reached
the passenger door and pulled at it, and Jackson yelped and crowded into
Tanner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The woman yanked at it some more
with a frustrated growl, then crouched down and peered in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had tangled dark hair and crazy eyes the
color of toothpaste spit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They looked
swollen from crying, dark from lack of sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“You gotta give me a ride,” she said, twitching her face into a hopeful
smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I got to get out of here.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The palm she pressed to the window was dark
with something.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sorry, lady, my
battery’s dead,” Tanner said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“My <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">babies</i> are dead,” the woman said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">angels</i>
are dead!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve got to get out of here
now, please give me a ride right <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">now!”</i>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Lady, I can’t,
the car won’t work,” Tanner said again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Lord, but the woman looked insane, some test pattern running behind her
eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And what was that about babies?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I need a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ride!”</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>she insisted, yanking at the door, slapping at the window.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Be reasonable!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t be getting me mad now, please!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sorry, but the
car won’t work,” Tanner said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Rick, call the
police,” Jackson said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Love to, but my
damn phone is in the fucking trunk,” Rick said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“I didn’t want to leave my jacket in the car because someone might steal
it, remember?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Ah, shit,”
Tanner said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t have a phone,
either.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The woman was
pulling herself onto the hood of the car, climbing it like a lizard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She pressed her face to the windshield and
they could make out a crazy grin through the shadow of the backlighting behind
her, a gleam of teeth and eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’m so
tired,” she said, almost rationally, muffled through the windshield. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She scratched at the glass, and her hands
were very dirty, crusted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The angels
were falling all over tonight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You must
have seen them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surely you saw
them.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She waved a hand at the sky.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“They made me do it, you know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had to do it, you have to do what the
angels tell you, don’t you?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tanner stared at
her, noting that her nightgown was splashed with dark stains.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This lady had done something very bad
tonight, he was sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This wasn’t just a
bad night for her, it was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">the</i> bad night,
and now they were being made part of it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“DON’T YOU?!” </i>she yelled, slapping the
windshield.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“ANSWER ME!”</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jackson screamed
and tried to bury herself in the floorboard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Tanner yelled, “Yeah, yeah, I guess so!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The lady’s upper
lip pulled up on the glass and her breath fogged it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She sneered and panted, calming herself
down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She licked the glass and
smiled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tanner looked to the highway,
which was empty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The flea market had
been on the outskirts of town and there was little reason for anyone to come
out here this time of night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were
on their own.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The woman smiled
wide and laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“All the angels are
sleeping now,” she sang.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I did it with
a hammer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had to, I had to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, see, I have to get away from here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have to give me a ride, you see?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You see?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You see, you see?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Like I said,
lady, I’d like to help you, but my car won’t start.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tanner twisted the key again, trying to show
her but hoping somehow it would work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
didn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could hear Jackson curled in
the floorboard, sobbing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He tried to
think of anything in the car that could be used as a weapon, but there was
nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tire tools in the trunk, with
Rick’s phone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’d have to go out
there with her to get to either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
could stick his keys through his fingers and hit her if he had to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d always thought about doing that, but now
that it might actually have to happen the idea made him sick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Light flashed from the floorboard as Jackson
tried her cellphone again and got nothing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You have to let
me in there,” said the woman, sounding reasonable with a timid smile.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sorry, lady,”
Tanner said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah,” she
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You need to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You really need to.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She tilted her head, a “please” gesture,
almost flirty.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No,” Tanner
said, feeling around under the seat, wishing his brother had left a wrench or
screwdriver under there last time he tuned the car up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He felt candy wrappers, a ketchup packet, a
lost M&M that he remembered two-ex-girlfriends-ago spilling in his
car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing that could fend off a crazy
lady.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah you need
to.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She sat up, nodding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“They’ve gotten in you, too, those fallen
angels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’re creeping around in the
night, crawling into people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something
bad’s going on in Heaven tonight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
need my help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You need to let me in.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tanner shook his
head.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
can’t go back to my house!” the woman said, suddenly sobbing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“They’re there, they’ll always be there and I
can’t look at them, how they are now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Their heads all… <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I CAN’T STAND
IT!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>She slid off the hood and paced
in front of the car, pulling her hair and screeching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I can’t stand it, I can’t STAND it!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah,
me either,” Rick said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You know we’re
going to have to take this bitch down, right?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe she’ll leave,” Jackson said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Maybe she’ll wander off again!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That’s
what I’m hoping,” Tanner said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I don’t
want to have to hurt her.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Me
either,” Rick said, “but she ain’t gonna leave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She’s got a captive audience and she’s having a breakdown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sounds like she killed her kids.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah,
that’s what I’m thinking, too,” Tanner said, wondering if he and Rick could subdue
her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was a big guy, in fairly good
shape from painting houses for a living.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Rick was short, pudgy, and had some low level bank job that didn’t keep
him in shape for anything but data entry, but Tanner knew he’d give it a try,
just to protect Jackson.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rick was always
a stand-up guy when it came to women.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He’d had two younger sisters to look out for so it was in his
nature.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But he wouldn’t want to have to
hurt the woman, either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Maybe she’ll
wander away, she’s so flipped out she could do anything, maybe forget we’re
even here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Go off chasing angels or
what-the-fuck.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Afraid
that’s wishful,” said Rick.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Let’s
just wait and see,” Jackson said, sitting back up, trying to be composed,
wiping her face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“If we have to fight
it’s three on one, but maybe we can wait it out.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
woman was batting at a moth that was dive-bombing her, her nightgown glowing in
the sodium arc light, something sheeny, faux-silken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She swatted at the moth and then rushed to
the driver’s side door and yanked at the handle, screeching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jackson yelped again and clutched Tanner as
he leaned over against her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
woman stopped and leaned down, panting and fogging the window.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She nodded and said, “I’ll get in there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
trotted a few steps away and found some loose gravel and began flinging it at
the windows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rocks hit with sharp
snaps, but bounced off without breaking anything… yet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Cut
it out! Stop it, goddamnit!” Tanner yelled.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
woman screeched a laugh and kept flinging rocks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They cowered in the car in case she managed
to smash through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was throwing them
hard, but they were all small rocks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Tik-tik-tik.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
crazy… stop it!” Tanner yelled, laying across Jackson to shield her, just in
case the window did give in.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“LET ME IN!” </i>the woman screamed, suddenly
slapping at the window again, frenzied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“AAAARRAAAAHHHHH!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>Her face was a nightmare, furious, all
wide eyes and bared teeth in the dark.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<u style="text-underline: double;"><span style="text-transform: uppercase;"></span></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“FUCK OFF!”
Tanner yelled, lunging at the window, and Jackson pulled him back, thinking he
might be about to open the door.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The woman ran off
across the parking lot, and Rick said, “If she goes far enough, pop the trunk
and I’ll jump out and grab my jacket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>God, I hope my cell phone’s charged.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“My trunk doesn’t
pop,” Tanner said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Gotta use the key.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Shit,” Rick
sighed, watching the woman running back and forth about twenty feet away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“If she goes far enough I’ll still try it.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Don’t,” Jackson
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Don’t go out there.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Do you think I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">want </i>to?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rick laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“I’d rather light my dick on fire!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But that bitch is going to get in here eventually.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s, what, eight hours or something before
anybody else will show up?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Six at
least, I don’t know when or if Dollar General opens on Sundays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And there’s nothing else out here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That flea market is over and that hair place
down there looks abandoned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure it
wouldn’t open on Sunday, anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re
pretty fucked.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“She could just
wander off,” Jackson said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Her mind’s
all screwed up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She wants out of
here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If she decides we can’t help her
she may give up and run off.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“We can wish,”
Rick said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The woman ran back to the car
and slapped at the windows again, screeching wordless rage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She rushed off again, looking for something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“She’s trying to find something to break a
window,” he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Somewhere there’s a
rock big enough.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Shut up,”
Jackson said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Just a
fact.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Better get ready.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As if on cue the
woman pried a chunk of asphalt the size of a cantaloupe out of a pothole and
glared at the car with crazed triumph.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh shit,” Tanner
said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She rushed the
car again and began clubbing Jackson’s window.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Tanner kept his wits about him enough to snatch out the key before the
window cashed out, littering the car with gummy cubes of safety glass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tanner grabbed Jackson and pulled her along
with him as he opened the driver’s side door, and there was a brief tug-of-war
as the woman grabbed Jackson’s leg.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rick
leaned over the seat and punched the woman’s arms until she let Jackson go, then
she and Tanner spilled out into the parking lot, in a heap.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Seeing the
driver’s side door was open, the woman left the window and rushed around the
car, still wielding the chunk of asphalt.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tanner and
Jackson scrambled backwards, tangling and tripping each other up as they tried
to get to their feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The woman grabbed
at Tanner and swung the asphalt at his face but he managed to deflect the swing
so it hit his arm instead; the hurt was bright electric pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Jesus, lady!” he yelled, shoving at her,
aware that his keys weren’t in his hand now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I had to!” the
woman yelled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her breath was sour, like
someone just awakened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I had to do it!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Okay!” Tanner
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jackson was up and running
someplace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t know where Rick
was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The crazy woman was a wild-haired
shape between him and one of the street lights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He shoved at her with the arm that wasn’t
hurt, accidentally grabbing one of her boobs and feeling vaguely embarrassed
despite the overwhelming terror.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“They had the
angels in them, the bad ones, the fallen ones,” the woman yelled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“In my babies!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
had to, I had to make them sleep!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tanner rolled her
over and dropped a knee into her, then stood up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was doubled up, for the moment at
least.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He felt of his arm, flexed the
fingers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It didn’t feel broken but maybe
sprained, certainly bruised like a bastard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He looked around for his keys, wanting a tire tool more than he did
Rick’s cell phone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t see them
anywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had he dropped them under the
car, maybe?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or inside the car?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Good luck finding them there in the dark.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Rick was beside
him, and he glanced past him and saw Jackson hanging back, watching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her face lit up for a second, then winked
out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Trying that cell phone again,
stupid stubborn hope.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You have to take
me away from here,” the woman said, sitting up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Her face had fresh blood on it, this time her own, from coming through
the window.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“They’re not going to
understand, when they find them.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her
voice choked, broke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her hand went to
her mouth.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You just stay
right there, don’t you move,” Tanner said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>With tears on her
face, gleaming pink in the sodium light, she laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“That’s just what I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t you move.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And they didn’t move.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Twitched for a minute, but then didn’t
move.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Five and three.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Always will be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mama’s little
angels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sleeping now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Always will be.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She sobbed and laughed at the same time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You think it’s bad, don’t you?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I think you need
help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if you just wait right there,
maybe we can get it for you.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He and
Rick backed away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Just sit quiet and
we’ll send help.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She wagged her
head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“They won’t understand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’ll send me back, forever this time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know how it works.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t stay here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t go there.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“If you don’t
stay back, we might have to hurt you, and we don’t want to do that.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah, lady just
stay right there,” Rick said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Wanda.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My name’s Wanda,” she said, sniffling.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>On instinct
Tanner almost said “Pleased to meet you, Wanda” and wanted to laugh.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What are your
names?” Wanda asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She climbed to her
feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tanner noticed she was wearing
sneakers that looked like they’d been dipped in blood, as had the hem of her
gown.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“My name’s
Tanner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is Rick and that’s
Jackson.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if you’ll just stay there,
Wanda, we’ll send help for you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“There’s no help
after what I did,” she sob-laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Their little heads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bloomed
open.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like flowers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They didn’t look like people anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">weren’t</i>
people anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That makes it
easier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It got easier the less they
looked like them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t think I could
have done it.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Maybe we should
just run,” Rick whispered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tanner
glanced at the empty highway, far away, offering nothing, like a dry riverbed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Tanner, Rick,
Jackson,” Wanda said, pointing at each, then placed her palm on her chest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And Wanda.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Now we’re friends.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She giggled.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah, whoopie,”
Rick breathed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were still edging
back, away from her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At any second she
could rush them, close the gap inside a second.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah, that’s
good,” Tanner said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“We’re friends and
you need help, Wanda.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why don’t you go
sit in my car and rest while we go find you some.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m suspicious,”
Wanda said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I don’t know you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We just met.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She breathed deep, let it out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Tonight you can’t know anybody.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It’s okay, just
back up and go sit in the car.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Uh uh.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She wagged her head and stepped out of the
light, became a black shape moving in the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You wouldn’t let me in before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You wouldn’t take me away, you wouldn’t help,
you’re tricking me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t trick me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t be tricking me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“They’re not
tricking you,” Jackson said, moving up and grabbing Rick and Tanner’s
arms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I know these guys, they’re good
guys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We want to help you, but you need
to go sit in the car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ll come back
with help.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Maybe I need to
help <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you,</i>” Wanda said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Maybe that’s why you’re here, so I can help <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></i>She stepped into the light and her smile was terrifying, eyes bright
with purpose and disconnect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was
far too close, and they were all tensed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If she started running she’d reach them before they could react, but if
they turned and ran she would likely chase them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was like facing a growling dog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One wrong move and violence would be
happening.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It would be three
on one but she was homicidal, had already done something unthinkable tonight,
and no one wanted to try tangling with her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Life-or-death struggles were something everyone thought about, but being
faced with the real thing, with options quickly running down to zero, was
chilling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And even if they subdued her,
she could hurt them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d already hurt
Tanner; he was cradling his arm, and of the three of them he was the biggest
and strongest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rick was willing to
fight, but Jackson could probably beat him up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He was no athlete.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And they were
reluctant, while Wanda seemed eager for violence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had no fear, just excitement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Agitation.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They kept backing
away, looking for weapons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tanner
steered them back toward the Dollar General, hoping to find a brick or chunk of
concrete to throw through the front window.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The store likely had a security system and a glass break would summon
the police in a hurry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Smash that window
and they’d probably only have to fend Wanda off for about ten minutes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>God, ten
minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had it even been ten minutes
since they first saw her?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She started
walking faster.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Rick said,
“Uh-uh, stay back,” but Wanda ignored it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jackson gripped their arms hard and pulled at them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Stay BACK!” Rick said again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wanda giggled.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I need to help
you,” Wanda said, nodding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You need
help.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She reached down and picked up
the neck of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a broken beer bottle near
the base of one of the utility poles.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jackson yanked at
Rick and Tanner hard and then they were running, and Wanda was shrieking,
chasing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was no time for the
smashing-the-window plan, and Wanda was herding them away from it, anyway, so
they made for the highway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was dark
and silent but it could lead to some area of civilization.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Each was
unwilling to split up and leave the others, so they had to run in a pack
through the weeds. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wanda reached them when
they had to stop at the edge of the ditch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Screaming, she slashed at them and Jackson and Rick both yelped in pain
before Tanner shoved Wanda down, hard, and they all jumped the ditch and
started running down the highway.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“How bad did she
cut you?” Rick gasped.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jackson held up
her arm, showing a long, nasty slash, a slice drooling ribbons of blood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I think I need stitches.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Jesus,” Rick
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“She got my hand pretty good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tried to grab the bottle.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You saved me
from getting cut a lot worse,” Jackson said, sobbing and panting, both from
panic and from running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Is she
following us?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t see her!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“She disappeared
in the weeds when I knocked her down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Probably looking for that damn bottle,” Tanner said, glancing back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I hope she
landed neck-first on the fucking thing,” Rick said, cradling his hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His shirt was already bloody.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They ran through
the nowhere until they were out of breath and were forced to slow down and
walk, looking across lonely fields at distant lights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jackson’s arm, under the light of a utility
pole, did need stitches, but the bleeding was slow so she’d make it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rick’s hand, also, would need stitches, most
likely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tanner offered to tear up his
shirt for bandages, but was refused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
night was chilly and him getting pneumonia wouldn’t help anyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Besides, Jackson said, forcing a laugh, the
damn<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>thing was probably filthy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d often teased Tanner about his habit of
putting off doing laundry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He welcomed
her sense of humor in the face of her having that slice in her arm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jackson would whine about little things like
malfunctioning cell phones, but could be tougher about the bigger things.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The night around
them was quiet and still except for a breeze that gave a little wave to the
weeds, but what in other circumstances would seem peaceful now just felt like
prowling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wanda was out there,
somewhere, creeping and keeping an eye on them while she probably looked for a
better weapon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The woman was
brain-squirmingly crazy and wouldn’t be put off so easily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were her new project.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They kept
walking, watching, waiting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The dread
built.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It tasted like iron, smelled like
blood, sounded like a pulse in the night.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Looks like a
neighborhood up there,” Rick said, squinting past some trees.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I was just
noticing that,” Jackson said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“What you
want to bet it’s where she lives?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Probably so,”
Rick said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I doubt she wandered too far
from home in just a nightgown.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I don’t know,”
Tanner said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“This is the South.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re used to shrugging off all kinds of
aberrant behavior.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Even if we don’t
know the word ‘aberrant.’”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I know what it
means but I can’t spell it,” Jackson said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Double B, double R, E or A?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can’t
we just go with ‘weird’?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Rick smiled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Anyway, even if it’s her neighborhood,
somebody will have a phone and that’s all I want.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“If we don’t get
shot for knocking on somebody’s door at one in the morning,” Jackson
sighed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Shooting people’s part of that
great Southern aberration.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’d be real
happy to be arrested right now,” Tanner sighed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“If they won’t answer the door maybe they’ll call the cops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’d be fine.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Where do you
think she is?” Jackson asked, looking around them, at all the dark and
silence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Maybe she forgot about us and
ran off.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Maybe, but I’m
not counting on it,” Tanner said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“She’s
probably sneaking around somewhere, watching us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Planning to ‘help’ us, save us from the
angels she was babbling about.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I hope she didn’t
really kill her kids,” Jackson said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
was cradling her arm now and pain was making her voice tighten.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘She got an awful
lot of blood on her from somewhere,” Rick said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Did you see her shoes?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
looked like she marched through a swamp of it.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah, I noticed
that,” Tanner said, staring back at the field of weeds between them and Dollar
General’s parking lot, which was distant now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He thought he’d seen something move back there but he couldn’t be
sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The grass stirred.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His pulse was starting to even out after the
running but it wasn’t slowing down all that much; the fear was still working on
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jackson and Rick were holding it
together admirably, but they also looked terrified.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were being hunted, he was certain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wanda was fixated and she was still out
there, slinking through the night with a head full of crazy plans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had to find a phone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the meantime he kept looking for anything
that could be used as a weapon, but nothing looked appropriate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’d passed a few sticks but none stout
enough for a club.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was plenty of
broken glass, but all <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">too</i> broken,
plenty of gravel, no rocks big enough.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They kept walking
to the neighborhood and then walking through it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of the yards, they noticed, had For Sale
signs, and even the houses that didn’t looked empty and abandoned, no cars in
the driveways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Well, this place looks
dead,” Rick said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tanner scowled,
not liking all the hedges, buildings, trees, all the hiding places. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wanda could have figured out they’d come here
– there was no place else to go – and might be lying in wait with something
taken out of someone’s toolshed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Probably one of those neighborhoods they built, thinking there’s going
to be development on this side of town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When there isn’t, nobody wants to move in anymore.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Be even fewer
people wanting to live here one they find out they have neighbors like Wanda,”
Rick said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I see a light up
there,” Jackson said, and began walking faster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Rick and Tanner followed, then slowed as they saw that the light was
coming from an open front door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jackson
looked at the other two and frowned.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I don’t know
about that place,” Rick said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“An open
door at one in the morning?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It’s her house,
isn’t it?” Jackson said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“With her
babies dead inside.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She bit her
fingers, staring at the doorway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Their
heads bloomed open like flowers, she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And they didn’t look like people anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s what’s in there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In that house.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tanner wanted to
tell her it wasn’t, but knew it probably was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But he also knew there was probably a phone in there and it was the one
place Wanda wouldn’t want to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So he
walked forward.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“We’re not going
in there?” Jackson hissed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“There’s a phone,
I bet, and we need a phone.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“We don’t know
that there’s a phone,” Jackson said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Who has land lines anymore?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Then at least
there’ll be a weapon,” Tanner said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And
what if her kids are just hurt, not dead?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“With all the
blood she walked through, they aren’t just hurt,” Rick said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Dude, I wouldn’t go in there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re gonna see some shit you don’t want to
see.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You wanna see shit I can’t even
stand to think about?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They were in the
yard now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a hammer lying in
the driveway, at the edge of the spill of light from the door, enough light to
show them that it was clotted, the claw full of hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jackson turned away from it, sobbing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Let’s go, let’s go home,” she whimpered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m trying to
get us there,” Tanner said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’ve got to
go in to do that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You and Rick wait out
here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Keep watch.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Rick cradled
Jackson to him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Be careful, man,” he
said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah, don’t set
the house on fire,” Tanner said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Rick
snorted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He and Tanner had a joke about how
their parents must have considered them idiots when they were kids, telling
them “don’t burn the house down” every time they left them alone for a few
hours, like that’s the first thing they’d do if they weren’t reminded not
to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Be careful” was an obvious warning
Tanner didn’t need, going into what was almost certainly Crazy Wanda’s house,
where two lives had already ended tonight.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As he stepped
through the door he knew there was no “probably” to it; the floor was smeared
with bloody footprints.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t want
to see where they led.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For all his talk
to Jackson about the kids maybe only being hurt, he had no intention of trying
to find them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t think he could
live with the sight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was sure he was
signing on for a lifetime of nightmares just for being in the same house with
the bodies.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The bloody tracks
led from a hallway to the right, where a doorway, fifteen feet away on the left,
was open to a room with the lights on. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tanner knew that was where the bodies
were.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing could have made him walk
down that hall and look in that room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Even the sight of the footprints made him want to flee the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a dread here so dense that he could
almost <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">hear</i> it, a low whistle of
blood pressure in his ears, his heart pushing it into his head, everything
telling him to leave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He’d gotten
morbidly curious late one night a few years ago when he was still in high
school and had looked at some of the real-life-gore sites on the internet,
crime scene photos, murder victims, just to see if he could handle it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He almost hadn’t been able to, had nearly
greyed out over some photos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
weren’t anything like the special effects in horror movies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And something
like that was in the room down the hall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Still and quiet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He could smell
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Iron, organic, voided bowels and
open skulls and blood in a great quantity, a slaughterhouse scent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Five and three, she’d said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not
looking like people anymore after what she’d done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What she’d done.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He was shaking as
he kept walking toward a dark room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
inside of his chest felt packed with Jello, quivering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He felt for a light switch, holding his
breath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What if the light came on and
they were in there, instead?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What if <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">she</i> were in there?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He flicked the
light.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A kitchen, bright
and yellow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had probably been sunny
and cheery once but now it was filthy and cluttered, Wanda’s housekeeping
disintegrating with her mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was
a stale and sour smell, a deeper yellow than the paint, through which buzzed
the last flies of summer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Children’s
drawings were magneted all over the refrigerator, smiling mom and kids, some
happy yesterday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He found a phone
on the wall, a yellow one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d never
seen such a bright yellow phone, rain-slicker yellow, he didn’t know they made
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was dead, though, like
everything in the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Either Wanda
had let it go in favor of a cell phone, or as her insanity took over she’d just
stopped paying the bills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nobody here to
talk to anymore.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He looked around
through all the trash on the counters and tabletop – lots of crazy scribbled
notes -- but didn’t see a cellphone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
search of a drawer gave him a knife as a consolation prize.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That’s when he
heard Jackson and Rick screaming.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gripping the
knife, he ran toward the door, then stopped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He couldn’t see Rick or Jackson, just heard running footsteps off
somewhere in the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was an echoey
street and he couldn’t even tell the direction for certain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He stood in the doorway, peering hard at the
darkness, seeing nothing but a lot of shadows where something could be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His heart triphammered a panic beat and the
knife he held was not as big as he’d like but it was a weapon at least.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The hammer, he
noticed, was no longer on the sidewalk.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He hoped that
Rick or Jackson had grabbed it, but he had his doubts that they’d be willing to
touch it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Especially Jackson, after
she’d turned away crying at the sight of it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The night was
still and silent now, the footsteps gone into the distance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was alone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He stepped out of
the house, one cautious step, two, three.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Wanda was
standing in the yard, holding the hammer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ice rocketed
through him and he froze, not even breathing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She stared at him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The light
spilling from a window into the yard lit only one of her eyes but it was wide,
wild.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What did you do
in my house?” she hissed, teeth bared in frenzy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“WHAT DID YOU DO?!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She rushed at him
with the hammer as he ducked on impulse, trying to meet her with a tackle, and
a stab.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The stab connected to nothing
and the hammer clubbed his back like a gunshot but his weight took her down and
then he was running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Behind him she was
screaming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chasing?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wasn’t sure, didn’t dare pause to look,
his skin flinching in anticipation of another blow from the hammer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t think the shot she’d gotten in had
done any real damage but Christ it hurt, pain enough to make him want to curl
up and just focus on breathing through it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But he had to run.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His footsteps
echoed through the neighborhood and he looked for lights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>None.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He wasn’t even seeing cars in driveways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Did anyone live here anymore?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“HELP!” he yelled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“SOMEBODY
HELP!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If nothing else maybe Rick and
Jackson could find him again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe
somebody in some dark house would call the police, if not to save him then to
complain about some nut screaming in the middle of the night.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Finally, lungs
aching, he paused and looked back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An
empty street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He bent over, palms on
knees, catching his breath.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Down the street,
behind him, lights came on in a house.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Thank god,” he
whispered, and began walking back there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His yelling had awakened someone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They’d have a phone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As he neared the
place, though, he saw two figures in the driveway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One wore a nightgown.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“He’s one of
them!” Wanda shrieked, pointing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“He’s
one of them that killed my babies!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tanner’s impulse
was to run but he fought it back; this was a chance to save himself and maybe
Jackson and Rick, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Hold on, now,
that lady’s crazy!” he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I didn’t
do anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She murdered her own kids
and she’s been trying to kill me.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
stuck the knife in his back pocket and held up his hands.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That’s not
true!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>LIAR!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wanda yelled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“You killed my babies!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The man with
Wanda, a heavyset white guy in a bathrobe, looked confused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He frowned at Tanner, then Wanda, then
back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“What now?” he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“What’s this?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I swear, mister,
she’s out of her mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’s been
chasing me and my friends all over, from the Dollar General up the road.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He stopped, holding his hands up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’ll stay right here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just call the cops, let the come sort this
all out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m staying right here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just please get the cops.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“LIAR!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>LIAR!” Wanda screamed, then pulled the hammer
out from under her arm and started flailing at the man.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“HEY!” he yelped,
holding up a hand, which promptly lost a finger to the bludgeoning of the
hammer; Tanner saw it bend back and fly off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The man’s next yell was cut off as the hammerhead chopped right into his
mouth, then yanked back out and fell again, whudding into his face with a
football-punt sound of solidity, then fell again, plugging an eye socket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wanda was in a crazed frenzy, a blur of
violence that the man was already crumbling beneath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He squealed through a mouth now missing half
its teeth, rolling over, trying to shield his head with his arms, only to have
them broken, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And Wanda was laughing
in triumph, not stopping.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tanner was
stunned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He should run, but which
way?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was clearly too late to help
the man, but did he have a wife, maybe kids, in the house?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A phone would likely be in there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did he dare to try to rush past Wanda?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t want to be anywhere near the frenzy
he was seeing unleashed on the man now dead on his lawn, the sound of the
hammer dropping an octave as it thwacked into stew instead of skull.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Panting, Wanda
stopped, straddling his chest and smiling down at him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her nightgown was considerably bloodier now,
sodden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She looked like Carrie on her
trip home from the prom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She stared up
at Tanner, her eyes and teeth just wet places in the dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You have to make a big enough hole to let
the angels out,” she gasped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It’s
work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Come see.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She waggled a come-here finger.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tanner took the
knife out and held it against his leg, low, ready to swing up and stick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He crept closer, deciding to make it into the
house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If she moved he’d plow into her,
stabbing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After what he’d seen, and
felt, he could do it now… almost <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">wanted</i>
to do it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Wanda thunked the
hammer’s claw end down into the mess that, seconds ago, had been a face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She wrenched the hammer deep, setting it in
bone, and pried at it, grunting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A rush
of dark blood washed across the sidewalk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Now the angels can get out. See them?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Wanda tilted her head back, spread her arms, and smiled at the sky,
bloody and blissful, seeing wonderful things that weren’t there, a sky full of
glories.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tanner stepped
around her and made for the house.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Hey!” Wanda
yelled and he got in quickly enough to slam the door in her face and lock
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A woman in the
hallway yelped, and he looked up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
was a short, pale, grey-blonde in a tee-shirt and panties, an oddly teenage
sleeping ensemble for a woman around sixty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A little girl about ten – a granddaughter, he guessed – was clinging to
her, squeaking in pitiful fear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Who are
you?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Get out of my house!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Raymond!” the woman yelled.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Wanda rattled the
doorknob, then started hammering it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Call the
police!” Tanner said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“There’s a crazy
woman out there!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Call the cops, NOW!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The woman kept
screaming about Raymond but the little girl ran for the back of the house.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Who are
you!?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who’s out there?!” the woman
yelled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Get out of my house!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“There’s a crazy
woman out there,” Tanner said, though it was obvious by now, the way Wanda was
attacking the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Her name’s Wanda,
lives down the street, she murdered her kids, she’s been trying to kill me…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Wanda
Kilpatrick?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh my god, we knew she was
crazy, but… oh my god!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Raymond!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What did she do to Raymond?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Just call the
cops, lady!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tanner said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The door was already making splintering
noises.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“She’s going to be in here in no
time!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Call the cops!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you have a gun, get it!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Raymond has a
gun, I don’t know where he keeps it,” she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Oh god, what did she do to Raymond?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Just call the
cops,” Tanner said, looking around for anything that’d make a better weapon
than the knife.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The cluttered living
room offered nothing, it seemed all pillows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Can I smother her?</i> he thought,
almost wanting to laugh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe they’d
work as a shield, but what he wanted was a shotgun, a machete, a chainsaw, a
panzer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Wanda stopped
pounding the door and Tanner could hear the little girl in the back of the
house, talking to the cops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Meemaw,
what’s the address here?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What’s the
address?” she asked, coming up the hallway.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Meemaw” turned
to take the phone from the girl and a stone the size of a loaf of bread smashed
through the front window, taking most of the glass with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tanner hissed as the glass showered him and
he covered his eyes and ducked behind a chair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Another big rock, part of the landscaping around the hedges out front,
came sailing through most of the glass that was left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wanda, looking like sheer bloody madness,
started climbing in, raking glass aside with her hammer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was panting, laughing, babbling something
about angels.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There were
screams in the back of the house, and a door slamming, the knob rattling as it
was frantically locked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Good</i>, Tanner thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The woman and the girl were safe, for
now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the cops were on the line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In minutes they should be here, gunning this nightmare
down.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Meanwhile he was
locked out, out here with Wanda, who was smiling through blood, mouthing
something crazy, stepping in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
pointed the hammer at him and whispered, like some naughty secret was being
shared just between them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“YOU… are <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">filled</i> with angels!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And they’re waking up!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She smiled so wide and crazy that her face
was hardly human.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I can help you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will light up the sky.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You just stay
back,” Tanner said, pulling a cushion off the couch; it wasn’t much but now
that he was looking at that hammer it didn’t seem so ridiculous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wanted anything between himself and it,
and there wasn’t anywhere to run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
could try the room behind him but he didn’t know the layout of the house and
was as likely to corner himself as he was to find a door.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“If you’re still
it’s quicker,” Wanda said, with the consoling tone of a nurse about to give you
a shot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“That guy in the driveway… that
went bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It doesn’t have to be like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the angels have to come out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They aren’t the good kind of angels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’re nasty squirming muddy angels, they’ll
rot you inside like a bad apple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
don’t think I’d have done that to my babies if I had any other choice, do you?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I loved them!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I LOVED THEM!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She shrieked at
him so hard her body shook, and a chill shot through Tanner like electric
current.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She wiped at tears and just made
her face bloodier.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Just stay back,”
he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You’re confused, Wanda.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re confused, you need help.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Am I?” she
asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I had to make them sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have to sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If they don’t sleep, they never leave you
alone.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Do you have some
pills to make them stop?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tanner
asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Back in the parking lot she’d
said something about being “sent back,” which made him think she’d been
institutionalized before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She probably
had medication, probably the only way they’d let her keep her children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You’re confused, Wanda.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You need your pills, not the hammer.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“How do you know
about the pills?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>she asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I had some, once.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not for a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Insurance quit paying for them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Didn’t need them anymore, I figured.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got cured.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was happy and cured, didn’t need any pills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I used the money to buy toys for the
kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t think I needed pills
anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did I?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Why don’t you
sit down and wait, and we’ll find you some?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Tanner said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was listening
hard for sirens, glancing at the window for flashing lights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Was time even moving?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So much
could happen in a space of seconds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“What you need is the pills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not
the hammer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re confused.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The self-doubt
was working.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wanda had been confused
before, so perhaps she’d betrayed herself again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s what she must be thinking, Tanner
thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He needed to feed that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was making her pause.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His back and arm were killing him, throbbing
and stiffening with pain, and he was having doubts that in his condition he’d
do well against a frenzied woman with a hammer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A size and weight advantage weren’t enough; he’d seen that much from
what happened to Raymond.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wanda’s mind
had her going like a shark in a feeding frenzy and she could wreak incredible
damage with that goddamned hammer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
needed the cops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or Meemaw to find
Raymond’s gun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or Rick and Jackson to
come back with an axe or something.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>None seemed to be
forthcoming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But Wanda was paused.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“When I had the
pills, there were no angels,” Wanda said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It seemed a surprise to her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That’s
right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pills are what kept the
angels away, Wanda.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not the hammer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Put it down and sit down and we’ll find
somebody to bring you pills.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“I won’t be tricked by you!”</i> Wanda
screeched.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She jerked the hammer at the
air, testing the feel of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a second
she could be putting it to work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A clump
of clotted hair fell from it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More
dangled from the claw’s tines.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m not tricking
you,” Tanner said, trying to keep his voice calm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Think!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Slow down and think. You feel confused, don’t you?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Wanda stared at
him, blank.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then her face crumpled. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Oh god,” she cried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“OH GOD!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tanner held his
breath, said nothing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I did the wrong
thing, didn’t I?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh god, I did the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">wrong thing!”</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></i>Tanner
motioned for her to sit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She shook her
head, hard, and stared at her bloody arms, the clotted hammer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tanner thought he
heard sirens, far off in the distance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Coming here?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stopping some
speeder out on the highway?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The blood
pressure was whistling in his ears so hard he couldn’t be sure heard them at
all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wondered if all the pain in his
chest was from the hammer blow he’d taken in the back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Wanda sobbed and
screamed, then screamed, then screamed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tanner stepped
back and put the easy chair between himself and her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’d mean an extra second of life if she had
to come over it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His hands were trembling
and he was disturbed to find that he couldn’t stop them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“I DID THE WRONG THING!”</i> Wanda
wailed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“My babies!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The angels weren’t in them!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I – I – I – I did that, I did <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that…</i> and the angels weren’t in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">them.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></i>She stared at Tanner, eyes shining like diamonds with madness and
tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The angels were IN ME!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>THEY WERE IN MEEEEEEEEEE!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tanner held his
breath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sirens, he was pretty sure those
were sirens, moving through the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Wanda’s face was
contorted in the worst anguish Tanner had ever seen, a moment of clarity coming
to someone who could bear anything but that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then, as though a cinching string had been cut, her face slackened and
took on a look of calm sadness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’m so
sorry I bothered you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The angels aren’t
in you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’re in me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I have to let them out now.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then it happened.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When the police
arrived they found Tanner shaking on the front step, trying to deal with the
image of what Wanda had managed to do to her own skull with the hammer before
she died.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d been determined, oh,
god, so determined it didn’t seem possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The angels had been given plenty of room to escape and were, assuredly,
sleeping now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He sat looking
for new lights in the sky, but all he found was a vaster darkness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 6;"> </span><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">THE
END</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2017 by me </span></span></span></div>
Zwolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02364540771153476179noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-48472643826062549582017-09-30T18:24:00.000-05:002017-09-30T18:33:13.663-05:00The NonsenseOctober's almost here, so that means horror story time again... and, provided I'm not too lazy to type 'em up I've got a blitz of stuff planned for you, maybe even a story a week, so I hope you won't get sick of 'em. <i>Disturbed</i> by them, yeah, afraid to read the next one, oh yeah buddy, but sick of them, no. But I guess we'll find out, because they're coming. I went a little overboard. <br />
<br />
Just in case you're new here, this story joins a book-full we've already got here on the blog, so in case you like it and want more, here's a handy-dandy table of contents. Knock yourselves out! They're all free but we'd all LOVE feedback, so, don't be shy.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
KickerOfElves:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/rigor-mortis.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Rigor Mortis</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/men-with-knives.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Men With Knives</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Profbolt:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/08/east-of-rulesville-guest-short-story.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">East of Rulesville</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My stuff:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/03/out-by-turbines_13.html" target="_blank">Out By The Turbines </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-guy-in-hallway-show.html" target="_blank">The Guy-In-The-Hallway Show </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/the-screaming-head-of-sister-mary-agnes.html" target="_blank">The Screaming Head of Sister Mary Agnes </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/10/pray-for-agatha-burning-in-hell.html" target="_blank">Pray For Agatha, Burning In Hell </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-night-is-filled-with-maniacs.html">The Night Is Filled With Maniacs </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/03/gone-shootin.html" target="_blank">Gone Shootin' </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/some-kinda-hate.html" target="_blank">Some Kinda Hate </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/creak.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Creak</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/shrouded-in-rain.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shrouded In Rain </span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2013/11/bodies-not-recovered.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Bodies Not Recovered</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/10/scribblebones.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scribblebones</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/long-tall-sally.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Long Tall Sally</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/shik-chuff.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shik-Chuff</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/11/damp-basements-of-heaven.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">The Damp Basements of Heaven</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2010/10/up-stairs-where-windows-are-painted.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Up The Stairs Where The Windows Are Painted Black</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/665-1.html" target="_blank">665+1 </a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
And <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/10/pleasant-dreams.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">little descriptions of actual nightmares I’ve had</span></a><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: black;"> </span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: white;">=====================<span style="color: black;">=========</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: yellow;"><span style="color: yellow;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: black;">Now, on to a bad night's dreaming... </span></span></span></span></span></span> </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: red;">THE
NONSENSE</span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
just want you to remember that you’re getting scared away by remote controls in
the refrigerator,” Jennifer said, watching Gary stuff clothes into a gym
bag.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Not a shotgun, not a chainsaw, not
even a threatening word.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Remote controls
in the fridge is enough to send you fleeing into the spineless protection
program.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope you feel good about
yourself.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
know more has happened than the thing with the remotes,” Gary said, holding up
underwear to see if it went into the luggage or the laundry bag.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“This is too crazy and it’s getting
worse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All the nightmares and the rest
of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not everything has to be about
chainsaws.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t sleep here!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m telling you, something bad is going to
happen, and if you had any sense you’d get out of here, too.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“So
now I have no sense?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jennifer threw
some of Gary’s underwear into his face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She was happy to see that pair go into the laundry bag instead of the
luggage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I told you, I have nowhere to
go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not all of us have parents to run
home to.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gary
looked down, quiet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jennifer’s mother
had died of leukemia when she was sixteen, and her father had fallen asleep at
the wheel of his semi and gone into a river late one night not even three
months ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was still having trouble
dealing with that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gary knew that now
he was causing her to lose someone else, the last major someone she had, and
that bothered him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not enough to
override his fear of the apartment, but, bothered him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jennifer watched him fidget; she hadn’t
meant to guilt-trip him, but if he was feeling small now, fine, she could
handle that because he deserved it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
turned her back on him and let him finish packing, the chickenshit
afraid-of-ghosts son of a bitch.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She went into the kitchen, where the bills and
reminder-notes were on the floor again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Whatever it was liked to play with the magnets on the refrigerator.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It looked like it’d tried to make the horse
magnet have sex with the Bart Simpson magnet, or maybe it was stomping him and
she had a dirty mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ice cream cone
magnet was upside down again; whatever it was insisted on it being that
way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe it had no knowledge of ice
cream cones and thought it was a faceless head in a dunce cap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was just a guess, though; nothing the
unseen roommate did fit anything resembling logic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d given up hope of that when she’d had to
pick Cap’n Crunch out of the clothes drier.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
refrigerator full of remotes was a case in point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She and Gary had gone to the movies one night
and when they got home all their remote controls were missing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’d found them the next morning when Gary
went for milk for his cereal, stacked in the refrigerator like Lincoln
Logs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fortunately they all still
worked, but that wasn’t the point; it had proven that the little odd things
they’d been blaming on each other since moving in together weren’t either of
them’s doing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a third party
involved.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They
were both afraid of it, but Gary had finally gone full-blown coward and now he
was fleeing the scene like it was day twenty-eight of the Amityville
Horror.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She hoped he knew that meant it
was over between them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe they’d been
cooling off, anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe they never
should have moved into any apartment together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But certainly not this one.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
was an old apartment building, one of the oldest buildings in town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It showed its age, and not just in the
antique style and predominance of dark wood no one would ever be able to afford
to build with now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t run down,
exactly, but it creaked and cracked and felt fragile when you moved through
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gary had never found a suitable
place to set up his Pelaton exercise bike; whenever he’d tried to use it
everything in the place rattled like it might just come down on their heads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d taken the bike to his parents’ house and
now, she supposed, he’d get to reunite with it, ride those breakup blues into
the sunset.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hi-ho coward, away.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Hey,”
Gary said, leaning into the kitchen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jennifer said nothing, didn’t even bother looking up, so he didn’t make
whatever speech he’d been planning and said instead, “I’ll come back and get
the rest of my stuff later.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah,
maybe it’ll be in the street,” she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Just so you won’t have to come back into the scary place.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
hope not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t think you’d do that to
me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
never know, people can surprise you with how pathetic they can be.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gary
sighed, stood un-looked-at for a minute, and if he thought of a response he
decided not to go for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wimp to the
end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She listened to him walk across the
hardwood and leave into the night, not slamming the front door the way she kind
of wanted him to.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now
she was really alone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Or,
not quite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that was the
problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was alone with…
whatever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The eccentric.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
gathered up the bills and memos and re-magneted them to the refrigerator.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They probably wouldn’t stay there long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whatever-it-was seemed to consider the
refrigerator the board in some game it played with them, the rules of which
only it knew.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
worst part were the dreams.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They weren’t
really nightmares so much as just ridiculous, alien things, bringing a sense of
having your mind invaded by another’s, and a crazy mind which didn’t see
anything the way you did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few nights
ago Jennifer had a dream which seemed to go on for days, in which she was
trying to fill every cabinet and closet in the house with old rotting
cabbages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even though it had sounded
silly when she told Gary about it, it had left her with one of the most
disturbed, encroached-upon feelings she’d ever had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d awoken smelling them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gary hadn’t laughed, because he’d woken from
a dream where he had to report to a new job at the top of an old office
building, where he’d been assigned to ride on a big wooden horse all day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She hadn’t laughed at that one, either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Neither of them were prone to such
dreams.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And both of them knew those
weren’t really <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">their </i>dreams.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were like notes passed to them by a
demented classmate, when they were too unaware to refuse them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
walked back through the house, verifying that Gary had, indeed, left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Plenty of his stuff was still around, but he
didn’t live here anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could have
packed more thoroughly but he wanted to escape before nightfall, when
everything became worse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next to the front
door were a pair of Gary’s shoes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or, it
had been a pair; now it was one shoe and a hat, a fedora Gary had bought and
then never worn after Jennifer had made fun of him for trying to be a
hipster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She did laugh a little at the
unseen roomate’s suggestion that Gary be a trendsetter, stylin’ around with a
shoe on one foot and a hipster-ass hat on the other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She couldn’t decide if the roommate was an
idiot or just had an absurdist sense of humor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Whatever the case, there was something badly wrong with him-or-her,
something Gary couldn’t bear and that now she’d have to handle on her own.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
didn’t have anywhere else to go, and she didn’t have much money.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without Gary splitting the rent she wasn’t
sure she could even stay here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least
the rent was paid up for two, maybe even three months;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gary got financial help from his parents and
they liked to do things in advance to avoid hassles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gary’s stuff was paying the rent now; she
was living in his storage locker.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
there was a lot of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Almost everything
here was Gary’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His bottles of Purell
were everywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was a germophobe who
never finished anything, so there were bottles on shelves, on the coffee table,
next to the phone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was as afraid of
germs as he was of ghosts, afraid of everything he couldn’t see, really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jennifer made a circuit of the house and
gathered up every Purell bottle that was less than a third full and finally
tossed them in the garbage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not as
satisfying as scaling his prissy little fedora into the street, but it was
something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe his next girlfriend
wouldn’t tease him about it and he’d be free to walk around looking like snappy
lil’ douche.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Not
that he’d need a hat for that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even
hat-less there was something about Gary that made you want to twirl him around
by his neck.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jennifer
snorted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">You are a bitter woman, Jennifer Barnes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just two nights ago you’d been begging the
douche to stay, almost in tears you’d begged him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>Not so much for the relationship, but so
she wouldn’t be stuck here alone with the thing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
went back to the living room, turned on the television, and channel
surfed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The thing in the house didn’t
seem dangerous at all, it had never done anything threatening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gary was a real wimp for running away from
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had no reason to be scared of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t scary, it was just weird because
its behavior was so odd and because it was… </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a dead thing, sharing their apartment.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There
was no way that wasn’t scary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like Gary
had said, not everything had to be about chainsaws.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She and Gary had gone to great pains never to
be alone in the apartment, and now, here she was.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
found a movie and got interested in it, enough so she almost forgot the
situation until the grandfather clock in the hallway let out a little
ding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The clock had, appropriately
enough, been her grandfather’s, and it was very sensitive, the floorboards it
stood on very loose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you walked past
it, the pendulum would swing against the spring inside and give out a little
chime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one was near it now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least, no one she could see.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
tried to ignore it, but it made her flesh creep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She sat frozen, listening for more signs of
something walking through the house.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In
a few minutes there was a lot of noise from the kitchen, clattering and
bonking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She held her breath,
listening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It kept happening, and
Jennifer got off the couch and peered through the house at the darkened doorway
of the kitchen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She couldn’t see
anything, but she could still hear it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
chair, being dragged across the floor.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Once,
back in college, she’d stayed in an apartment with some other girls and they’d
had a rat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not a mouse, a fucking <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">rat.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They’d listened to its movements in other rooms, frozen in terror.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was worse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You knew what a rat was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bad as it was, a rat was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">alive.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It only did certain
things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a part of the world as
you understood it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And eventually a trap
would (and had – gruesomely) kill it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This
was different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If she walked twenty feet
or so and turned on the light, what would she see?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
was tempted to leave the house, spend the evening at the movies, but it was
close to nine o’clock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d tough it
out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In
a few minutes, the noise stopped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
waited until the movie was over and then, full of dread, got up to see what had
been done in the kitchen.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There
was already a glow from the partially-open fridge, but she had to turn on the
light to see the full ridiculousness of the scene.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Most
of the contents of the refrigerator had been taken out and lined up on the
kitchen table so one of the chairs could be put inside it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It didn’t quite fit, so another chair had
been pushed against the door to try to hold it shut.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
whole scenario was idiotic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It still
scared the hell out of her, because it had happened at all, but nothing in her
imagination could come up with a reason for wanting a chair in the fridge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What kind of mind thought, “This is a good
idea, this needs doing”?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A
decayed one, full of numb dead-person logic.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
took the chair out, replaced the racks, and put the food back in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few things that only Gary had liked, like
black olives and Swiss cheese, she threw in the trash.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d adopted a tolerance for certain foods,
just from living with him, but Swiss cheese was toe fungus in her opinion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
didn’t take long to fix the stupidity, and Jennifer was more creeped out by it
than annoyed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When
it was straightened, she decided to go ahead and go to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She couldn’t sleep, so she read for a while,
a Lee Child novel that she’d have to finish soon because it was Gary’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At one point she heard the grandfather clock
give out a little ding as something walked past it again, but no other activity
followed <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and finally Jennifer was
struggling to finish a page and gave up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She considered leaving a light on but if anything happened it would only
be worse, seeing it, so she turned it off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In the dark, she was asleep in minutes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: double windowtext 2.25pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify;">
* * *</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
woke up at almost four a.m. to a strange sound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She lay there, frozen, her sleep-murked brain trying to analyze it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A repetitive, whisking, purring sound,
zoooot-zoooot, zoooot-zoooot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A zipper,
she decided.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was playing with a
zipper, one too long for pants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
jacket, maybe?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She lay listening,
holding her breath, and she could <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">feel </i>the
presence in the room, somebody crouching on the floor a few feet away in the
dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She could make out someone
muttering under their breath.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Finally
it stopped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a few more minutes the
room felt empty again, and Jennifer turned the lights on, wincing as it shocked
her eyes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>No
one was there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took her a minute to figure
out what had happened.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A
pair of her boots had been pulled out of the back of the closet and were lying
on the floor, zipped up, not the way she’d left them. Sleepily, she got up,
turned on more lights, and sat down and unzipped them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The right boot was empty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The left one had a banana stuck into it,
like a shoe tree.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jennifer
took it out, looked at it, and laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was eerie, but absurd.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Something had considered this a thing to do in the middle of the night,
had returned from the dead to see how a boot would work as a place to keep
one’s bananas, the way a chair belonged in the refrigerator.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Merry Christmas!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An idiot from beyond the grave was keeping
himself busy, perhaps trying to be helpful.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
was still tired but was done sleeping for the night, so she took a shower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The soap was missing (a few days later she’d
find it in the light fixture in the hallway) so she washed with Gary’s Axe body
wash; she’d never particularly liked the smell of it, but it was that or shampoo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had three bottles of the stuff, two of
which farted wetly in her hand before she tossed them out of the shower to
throw away later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gary never could
finish anything.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Until
now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Coward,”
Jennifer said to herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And now she’d
smell like him, thanks to the only roommate she had left.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
finished her shower and stood in front of the mirror as it unfogged, staring at
herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pretty girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Twenty-five but she still got carded once in
a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Long blonde hair, green eyes
that had been in a magazine ad for mascara once on a pick-up modeling gig while
visiting a cousin who was in the business in L. A.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The cousin’s dad had died, too, so she
didn’t even have an uncle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pretty girl,
alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who looked like she’d missed a
good night’s sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And probably
wouldn’t be making it up any time soon.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
went through the apartment, looking for any other abnormalities that may have
appeared during the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The weirdo had satisfied himself with the
banana incident.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jennifer
got dressed, deciding to wear the boots since they’d been brought out for her,
and ate breakfast, slicing the banana in question over her cereal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was up a couple of hours early so she
watched TV to kill the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing
else happened; the lucky undead was apparently sleeping late.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bastard.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Most
days she wasn’t very happy to go to work at her insurance company clerk job,
but in this new situation anything that got her out of the house for a while
was welcome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was boring, but boredom
was sanctuary now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: double windowtext 2.25pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify;">
* * *<br />
</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When
she got home the magnets on the refrigerator had been played with again, a
radio in a back room was playing static full blast, and a cereal box had been
taken out of the garbage and tucked over one of the blades of the living room’s
ceiling fan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
It wasn’t much,
but it was enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jennifer went out to
the movies.</div>
<div style="border-bottom: double windowtext 2.25pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
* * *<br />
<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She came home
and went to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bentley, the teddy bear
an old boyfriend had won for her by throwing a football through a tire at a
Halloween carnival, was off the top of the dresser and sitting in the middle of
the bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His eyes and nose had been pulled
off, leaving him with a blank face other than a big crazy grin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d later find the eyes and nose stuck in
her cereal box, like a prize.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bentley
looked disturbing with only a smile for a face so she stuffed him in the back
of the closet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She read for a
while, then turned out the lights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
took her a while to get to sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the
dark hallway the grandfather clock pinged a couple of times as something passed
by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jennifer slept anyway.</div>
<div style="border-bottom: double windowtext 2.25pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br />
<br />
* * *</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Nothing strange
awaited her in the morning, or when she got home from work that night, but she
fell asleep on the couch watching television, and when she woke up Moosey
McMooseface was on the couch with her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Moosey was another stuffed animal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Gary claimed he’d won it for her in a claw machine but since nobody ever
won Jack F. Shit out of a claw machine she suspected he’d actually bought it
and made up the story to compete with the former boyfriend who’d <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">actually</i> won the now-faceless Bentley.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
As a haunting
went, she supposed she should find this endearing, like the whatever-it-was
thought she looked cute sleeping there and wanted to tuck her in, but it just
made her skin crawl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She didn’t want
something dead and crazy finding her attractive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The last thing she wanted was its personal
attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Playing with the magnets was
one thing, but noticing her was another.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
All of this
stuff had been creepy when Gary was around, but at least then they were both
experiencing it and could try laughing it off, have an us-against-it
feeling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now that she was alone and had
no one to laugh with, it was so much worse; there was an intimacy with the
thing that was too much to stand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d
been more interested than really scared by it all when Gary was here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now it was too weird, almost terrifying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She hated coming home at the end of the day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
The rest of the
night passed quietly but she didn’t sleep much, for listening. <br />
<br />
<br />
* * *</div>
<div style="border-bottom: double windowtext 2.25pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
During
breakfast, something was walking in the attic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not pacing, really, just a hop-skip-and-a-jump, creak-squeak-thump, the
Ministry of Silly Walks.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
The landlord –
funny little Mr. Parkins – had explained that their apartment was the only one
with access to the attic, a little panel in the guest bedroom closet’s ceiling
that would lift up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“There’s nothing in
there,” he’d explained.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I went up and
had a peek years ago – when I could still fit – but there’s space where you can
store some things, if you like.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Jennifer
wouldn’t go up there now for a million dollars.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
The thing did a
few tap-dance steps, then stumbled around, thump-bump-bonk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After waiting a few minutes it hopped around
like a frog, sounding heavy and soft, somehow.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Maybe I should visit Mr. Parkins and ask
about who’d lived here before us</i> (me, she corrected, just me) <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and ask if he knew it was haunted. </i>Mr.
Parkins would at least be sympathetic, she thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was a chubby, effeminate little guy who’d
spent most of his time, when he was supposed to be showing them the apartment,
talking about his stamp collection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He collected
stamps, Gary had said, with the avidity of a man who hadn’t had a hard-on in
years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jennifer had thought that was
meanly hilarious until Gary had made it lame by repeating it to at least three
other friends of theirs.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She hated Gary
and still missed him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nobody should have
to be alone while something hopped around their attic.<br />
<br />
<br />
* * * </div>
<div style="border-bottom: double windowtext 2.25pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
When she came
home and found a slice of ham stuck to the bathroom mirror, she went to the
movies again and decided to visit Mr. Parkins on Saturday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For some reason the ham thing really
bothered her, maybe because she tried to make sense of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had it watched her stare into the
mirror?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had it wanted to see something
staring back at it, too?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And found cold,
dead meat appropriate?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
It was worse
when anything it did made any sense at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She didn’t want to understand it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Only a scrambled brain could understand the thing that lived in her
apartment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Understanding
felt like empathy and empathy felt like friendship and this damned puttering
thing was no friend of hers.<br />
<br />
<br />
* * * </div>
<div style="border-bottom: double windowtext 2.25pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
After the movie
was over she went to Wal-Mart and wandered the aisles, just to avoid going
home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She managed to kill an hour there,
but finally had to go back, dreading what she might find.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or at least nothing obvious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The apartment looked just like she’d left it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
With a degree of
dread she turned in to read, trying to get sleepy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She kept having to skip a few pages back and
re-read due to concentrating on listening for strange sounds rather than the
words in the book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All she heard was a
brief rattling from the kitchen, which she decided was the ice maker.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She finally closed the book and shut off the
light, feeling like some game was being played with her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Any symphony being conducted required
interspersed moments of silence to make the music.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finally she went to sleep.<br />
<br />
<br />
* * * </div>
<div style="border-bottom: double windowtext 2.25pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She woke up --
from<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a dream in which she’d grown
antlers -- <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to the toilet flushing and
wondered what time it was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gary must
have gotten up early.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That wasn’t like
him, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Usually he was a pain in
the ass to get up in the morning, you almost had to beat him awake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She couldn’t remember him ever getting up
before her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Then she
remembered that Gary didn’t live here anymore, the cowardly bastard.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She sat up,
staring at the clock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>2:30 a.m.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Son of a bitch,” she snarled and got up and
walked to the bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The light was
off and the door was open.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She flicked
the switch and looked around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing
else was out of order but the idiot had tried to flush a package of razors down
the toilet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She wondered if
the ghost might be some dead toddler, doing the things it did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A dead child… that’d make it all even worse,
give it a dimension of sadness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somehow
it didn’t feel like a child, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
felt like an idiot, some confused moron with a lot of weird ideas for things to
do, or some giggling weirdo delighting in absurdity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Saturday she was
going to talk to Mr. Parkins and find out what the hell was in her
apartment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today was Friday, so,
tomorrow.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: double windowtext 2.25pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Tiredness allowed her to go back to sleep until the alarm
woke her from a dream in which she’d found herself only being able to see from
the back of her head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d finally decided
she’d have to walk backwards, and was calmly doping out a way to drive her car
in that position.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d stared at the
back of her head in the mirror, combing through her hair, trying to find eyes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
The apartment was quiet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The ice-cream cone magnet was upside down again, she noticed, but she
left it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One must make little
concessions, she thought, when one has a roommate.<br />
<br />
<br />
* * * </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Mr. Parkins
lived like a little mouse in a hole, his apartment cozy with clutter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only a sense of organization and some fussy housekeeping
saved him from being a hoarder, but anyone could tell he had far too much stuff
in there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stuff, as in stuffing, for
every available space.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jennifer liked
it, though; anywhere she looked she saw something interesting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, apparently glad for the company, Mr.
Parkins kept hauling out new things to show her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
While she
glanced through an album of misprinted stamps he’d acquired through “back
channels – very spy-stuff,” Mr. Parkins settled on a chair beside the couch
where Jennifer sat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He rubbed his soft
little hands together and gave her a worried little smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“So you’re having some trouble with the
apartment?” he said, having apparently decided he’d avoided it long enough and
had established friendliness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Well, kind of,”
Jennifer said, setting the stamp album aside with respectful care.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Everything’s working fine, I mean, the sinks
aren’t clogged or anything…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Good, because
I’m <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">awful</i> with a wrench!” Mr. Parkins
laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Although I’d certainly call a
service or something if need be.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“No, it’s
nothing like that,” Jennifer said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Not
that kind of trouble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s just that the
place is haunted.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Haunted?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></i>Mr. Parkins’ eyebrows shot up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Oh my!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Jennifer laughed
self-consciously.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Well, I don’t know
what else to call it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Very strange
things have been happening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Crazy
things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other night someone put one
of the chairs in the refrigerator.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Mr. Parkins
stared, and started to giggle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jennifer
laughed, too, unable to help it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That would be… <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">unusual!” </i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mr. Parkins said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Perhaps your boyfriend is a prankster?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“My boyfriend
left,” Jennifer said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“He got
scared.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s another thing, I may have
some trouble making the rent.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Mr. Parkins held
his hands out like he was about to play an invisible piano.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Don’t fret over that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I understand your situation, we can work that
out when it comes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re paid up months
in advance, and you’ve been excellent tenants, I’ll make an effort to keep
you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Thank you for
that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like the apartment, but I’m a
little freaked out by the stuff going on in it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Things get pulled out
of the closet, and I woke up to something trying to flush a package of razors
down the toilet…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
His eyebrows
shot up again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Well… that certainly
would freak one out.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She nodded,
laughing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I know there’s not really anything you
can do about something like this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
guess what I’m coming to you for isn’t a solution to it, but an explanation for
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A history of the apartment, I
guess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Has anyone died there?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Has any activity like this been reported
before?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Mr. Parkins
shook his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“This is a very old
house, one of the oldest in town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All
old houses have their pasts, and their eccentricities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would imagine over time that people died
here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know of no one who died in that
particular apartment, however.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And no
one that I know of has died in any other apartment of any unusual
circumstances.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No sort of violence or
anything, thank the good Lord.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He went
to cross himself, realized he didn’t know how to do it, and waved it away with
a fluttering gesture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“No strange
activity has been reported to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well,
nothing so strange as a chair in the refrigerator!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“That, I must say, is a new one on me!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It didn’t damage the refrigerator…?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“No, that’s
fine,” Jennifer said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Nothing…
threatening has happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing like
that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just… strangeness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can you tell me about previous tenants?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anything odd?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Anyone raising
the devil, you mean?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mr. Parkins
giggled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Not to my knowledge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have had a lot of ‘weirdoes,’ as you might
say, but people, in my experience, tend toward the strange.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of my tenants have been older
people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You and Gary are the youngest to
live here in, oh, it must be at least a decade, possibly two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The man who lived there before you did die, but
in hospice, not in this house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was
very old and had become senile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Very
sad, he was a gentle, soft-spoken man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He was odd, as you’d expect, did some unusual things, due to the
dementia, but there was no malevolence in any of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was another man before him, also
declining.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He got Alzheimer’s and moved
out to live with his children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Years
ago, that was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before him was a woman named
Dot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dorothy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was a Dot, all right – downright dotty!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not to the point of trying to furnish a
refrigerator, but perhaps she’d try to flush razors down a toilet on a bad
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Quite harmless, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was rather delightful, really, dotty old
Dot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was already here when I took
proprietorship over the place, so farther back than that, I don’t really know.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“So, basically,
everyone who lied in that apartment was crazy,” Jennifer said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“I suppose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Until now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I hope!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He gave her a wide-eyed
stare and giggled, and Jennifer laughed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“I can’t swear
to anything,” she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Lately I have
my own doubts.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Well, to be
honest, I can’t say I believe in ghosts,” Mr. Parkins said, “although I believe
you’re experiencing something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps
it’d help if I had your locks changed?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’d certainly be happy to do whatever I can.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Jennifer shook
her head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“A lot of Gary’s stuff is
still in there, so I better not lock him out from it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you, though.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“I hope what’s
going on isn’t too upsetting,” he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“I don’t mean to laugh at your troubles, at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s just very unusual.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Oh, I
know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No offense taken, I know it all
sounds crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m just trying to
understand it.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Could you,
perhaps, be sleepwalking?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He spread his
hands and raised his eyebrows.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Things are happening when I’m awake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gary experienced all this, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We went out to the movies one night and when
we came home, all our remote controls were in the refrigerator.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Mr. Parkins
blinked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’d really like to have your
locks changed, just in case some stranger is getting in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want my tenants to be safe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it wouldn’t be too awkward, perhaps you
could talk it over with Gary, explain the situation?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“I suppose,” she
sighed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I don’t think anyone’s getting
in, though.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“I’d offer you
another apartment if I had one vacant, but there are only three other residents
and they’ve all been here for years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Settled in.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Thank you, but I’ll be okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just wanted a little history of the
place.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She got up to leave.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Well, there
were people there who did have mental troubles – none in the least violent, I
assure you – but they all died elsewhere.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Maybe they found their way back,</i>
Jennifer thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Or…</i>and she thought something worse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Well, thank you for talking to me, and for showing me your things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have an amazing collection.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Maybe too
much,” he sighed, standing up to show her to the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“A lot of clutter, really, but what is one to
do?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stop collecting things and sit,
bored, in a neat house?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He waved his
hands, pushing that idea away with a derisive noise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Not for me!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“I can’t argue
with that,” Jennifer laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She could,
but she wouldn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She thought of Gary’s
endless bottles of Purell and shower gel and all the rest and acknowledged that
it was always possible that she was the weird one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who really could say what the proper way of
doing things was?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If most people were
eccentric, maybe that was really what normal was.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Do let me know
if there is anything I can do,” Mr. Parkins said, opening the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And call me if the chair goes into the
refrigerator again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d like to see how
that works!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Oh, I will,”
Jennifer said, and left.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
It had started
drizzling rain while she was talking with Mr. Parkins, and she winced against
it as she hurried along the sidewalk back to her apartment door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Well,
that solved nothing</i>, she thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Any one of the previous tenants had been crazy enough to be the one who
was dwelling with her now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And they were
all crazy enough for additional crazy behavior to have gone unnoticed amidst
their own, if the one haunting the place pre-dated them all.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
And the idea
that really worried Jennifer – the one she hadn’t wanted to face back there
with Mr. Parkins – was the one that said that all of them had been sane until
they moved into apartment three and spent some time with their new roommate.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
When she got
back into her apartment, the television was on to an empty channel and towels
from the linen closet had been arranged on the furniture as though they were
watching it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
After turning
off the television and putting the towels away so she wouldn’t have to come
home to them, Jennifer hurried back out into the rain.<br />
<br />
<br />
* * * </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
It had been a
few years since Jennifer had been drunk, really drunk, but she was really drunk
now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The drinking had started being
about the apartment, and then had become about Gary, and then she’d started
drinking about her dad and that’s when it’d really gotten bad and she’d lost
track.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now she was staring through her
new friend, Lucinda, and wondering how in the shit she was going to get home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When you can’t remember exactly how a car
works, don’t drive.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Lucinda was so
boring she was verging on becoming horrific.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jennifer was a few drinks past remembering how she’d even started
talking to this eggplant, who was now babbling in slow motion about how she had
her choice of being called Lucy or Linda but didn’t like either one but her
Paw-Paw called her Linda while her Mee-Maw called her Lucy, or <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Miss</i> Lucy if she were in trouble
haw-haw-haw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It swam up through
Jennifer’s alcohaze that Lucy-Linda should be a few years past the age of being
in trouble with her Mee-Maw, but Southern girls tend to ripen slow, sometimes
maintaining it right up ‘til the rot stage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Lucinda was, what, thirty at most?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The light here was dim, thank the Lord, but she looked forty so that
meant late 20’s probably.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She wore
makeup like somebody without youth on her side, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her face was that of a garish doll from a bad
dream, raccoon mascara and circles of rouge that made her look like the loser
in a slap-fight, with pouty little bow-lips so glossed she might have been
swigging olive oil.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jennifer found
herself smiling at the thought of punching that little pout just as hard as she
could, seeing if that could call out Miss Lucy, haw-haw-haw, raise Lucinda’s
droopy eyelids like the bell on top of one of those things at the fair, the
hit-them-with-a-hammer things, whatever they were called.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jennifer’s dad used to take her to fairs all
the time but she’d never actually seen one of those things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were in every cartoon, though.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Dad, and the
fair.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Dollface went
starry and blurry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She kept talking, not
noticing Jennifer was crying until Jennifer got up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Some guy she
didn’t remember a damn thing about the next day called a cab for her and
somehow she got home where she found a chair in her bed.<br />
<br />
<br />
* * * </div>
<div style="border-bottom: double windowtext 2.25pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She had to get
another cab to drive her around to bars the next morning to pick up her car,
which was embarrassing because she wasn’t sure which one she’d been in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Luckily it was her second guess and she
didn’t go broke paying the cabbie.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She’d thought
about calling friends to get a ride, without explaining why, but decided not
to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She didn’t want to humiliate herself
by admitting she’d gotten that drunk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She’d alarmed herself and didn’t want to get anyone else involved in her
out-of-character behavior.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She’d been so
drunk she hadn’t even kicked the chair out of bed, and had just slept beside
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Roomate had even tucked it in,
pulling the covers over it, and she vaguely wondered if he’d been sitting in
it, beside her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Taking it out, she found
one of Gary’s shoes tied to it, and she’d laughed until she felt crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Who’d tuck a chair into bed without tying a shoe to it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Silly girl, what did you expect?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
When she felt
well enough, she started calling friends to test the idea of maybe moving in
with them, or at least hanging out with them to escape the apartment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, taking inventory, she found she actually
had few friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of their hang-out-with
friends had really been Gary’s.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
When you become
a couple, there’s an unconscious tendency to shed friendships who weren’t
couples, too, so now her single friends had cooled and adjusted, and they all
had higher priority friends now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
wasn’t personal, it was just a reorganization of commitments, but it still made
them unavailable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And her coupled friends
certainly wouldn’t want a roommate.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She was
alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which wouldn’t have been such a
problem if she’d <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">really</i> been
alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, as the creaking floorboards
and tinging grandfather clock reminded her, she wasn’t.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br />
<br />
* * *</div>
<div style="border-bottom: double windowtext 2.25pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
As far as she
could tell, the drawing was a three-legged, one-armed man in a top hat, wearing
a dress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All three legs ended in chicken
feet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
It was open to
some interpretation, of course, as anything drawn on a countertop with a raisin
must be.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She’d didn’t
know they (I, it’s I now, no, maybe it is we, what are the rules of the dead?)
had any raisins, but the Roomate had found some somewhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ones it hadn’t mushed trying to draw with
them had been laid out in little patterns, like signals for alien pilots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jennifer studied the smeared drawing for
quite a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The figure’s sole arm –
or maybe it was a penis, since it sprouted so low in the torso – was carrying
what might have been a sign, or an axe, or the hammer of fucking Thor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s hard to draw with a raisin, regardless
of your level of determination.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“A for effort,”
Jennifer said, and giggled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She thought
of calling Mr. Parkins up to see ol’ birdfoot, but he’d just assume she’d drawn
it herself and call the men to haul her away in the funnybus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead, she scrubbed it away before ants
could eat it, and gathered up the raisins.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Finally deciding
her stomach was settled enough for Sunday breakfast at oh-my-god-it’s-3:30
p.m., she cooked an egg.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was
already a piece of bread – and a book about birds – in the toaster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Laughing, she set the book aside and replaced
the bread with a new slice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe a
book about birds would make a good breakfast if she buttered it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She fanned through the pages to see if the
roommate had thought of that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nope.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“One step ahead
of you, asshole,” she told the empty house.<br />
<br />
<br />
* * * </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: double windowtext 2.25pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Only little
things happened over the next three days – one of Gary’s shoes on his
turntable, his fedora cocked jauntily on a globe that got left in the bathroom
(and exactly when was Gary planning to get his shit?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’d been a week with no contact), pencils
stuck in an apple in an apparent attempt to make some sort of doll – but she
still went out and got drunk again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
went home with some guy she didn’t really like and fucked him just to avoid
having to go home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When she woke up and
took a good look at the geeky little twerp she decided she wasn’t an egomaniac
to consider herself the luckiest night of his life, and she was happy for him
but disgusted with herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He drove her
back to her car, making a lot of talk about their future, the poor guy, and she
gave him a lot of lies about being “between phones” and promised she’d call
him, then tossed his number out the car window when she got a mile or so
away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Slut and drunk <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and</i> litterbug, oh, Jen, you just suck.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Drink enough and you end up with new things
to drink away</i>, she thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
hated going back into that apartment, but waking up at that guy’s place was no
solution to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She felt numb about
what she’d done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d called Gary a
coward, and he was, but what was she?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
No shotgun, no
chainsaw, not even a threatening word.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Just a chair in
her bed and a three-legged birdfooted man in a top hat, drawn with a raisin.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She sat in her
haunted apartment and laughed until she couldn’t breathe, while something
played with the light switch, on, off, on, off.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br />
<br />
* * *</div>
<div style="border-bottom: double windowtext 2.25pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Jennifer skipped
work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jennifer never skipped work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jennifer was crazy, Jennifer decided, and
Jennifer was going to go to Gary’s parents’ house and show him how crazy
Jennifer was, until she got him to pay for a hotel room until she could find
some other way to get her out of this hell <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">he</i>
had put her in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d been happy in her
old apartment and now it was gone – she’d checked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
When she went
out to find Gary, though, the world was dark as night with the most frightening
clouds she’d ever seen churning overhead, ominous as a stream of bombers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The television, she found, was full of red
flashing warnings, tornadoes on the march.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She wasn’t going anywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doom
was coming.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She huddled on
the couch, staring at sitcoms and listening to the house squeak and crack in
the wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The grandfather clock tinged
regularly as something paced the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Tornadoes, it seemed, made the mad dead nervous, too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She clearly
heard muttering, an endless low under-the-breath babble, like a conversation in
a distant room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She thought maybe it was
inside her head but she felt sure it wasn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She’d heard it before, in her bedroom one night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now it was clearer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She could almost make out words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>None of them made any sense, but that wasn’t
surprising.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She went back
and forth to the window, peeking out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Something seemed to be following her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It muttered next to her, and her flesh crawled; being so close to the
thing was repulsive.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
The wind howled
around the house and boards cracked like knuckles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This building had stood longer than most others
in this town which meant it was strong, but maybe it was getting tired and
ready to lie down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her unseen roommate
seemed even more upset about this than she did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was all around her now, on the move, muttering, fidgeting, agitated,
frightened.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She tried to
avoid all the angst by watching the television, and that helped a lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Until the power went out.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
* * * </div>
<div style="border-bottom: double windowtext 2.25pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
The house was
dead black and there were no sounds to cover up the wind, which was practically
screaming through the eaves now, flinging things against the walls outside like
the fists of a mob.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
In the dark, the
Roomate panicked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Cold hands with
long nails clutched at her and she shrieked and scurried across the couch,
knocking things over in the dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
muttering was now a hoarse babble, a gobbling gurgle of nonsense, and Jennifer
couldn’t stand to hear it so she yelled, wordless shouts intended to drive the
thing away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Lightning
outside lit the room and nobody was there even though hands were on her again,
chilling, damp, repellently soft.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
gobbling voice pleaded and whined and Jennifer screamed, slapping at the air,
hitting nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her skin was crawling
and she scurried frantically away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Stay away from me!” </i>she shrieked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“STAY
AWAY!”</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
The thing
babbled and ran back and forth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The grandfather
clock bonged like it’d been bumped into.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Jennifer flailed
in the dark, trying to find the front door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However horrifying it would be out in the storm, she couldn’t stay in
here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was mindless with terror. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Then the hands
were on her again, yielding like cheese as they gripped, the nails digging in,
and it was hugging her, cold, damp, horribly soft, and she shrieked so hard her
throat seized up, and it was babbling in her ear.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
She could
finally make out what it was saying.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
And she laughed
and laughed and the darkness laughed around her, laughed until it howled.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: double windowtext 2.25pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: double windowtext 2.25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br />
<br />
<br />
* * *</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Jennifer?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gary called, leaning in the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Jen?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You here?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
The apartment
was silent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He stepped in, looking
around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God, it was a mess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What had Jennifer been doing since he’d left?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
He’d tried
calling first, but the tornado that swept through town three days ago still had
the lines down, and the cellular service was spotty; he wasn’t sure if Jennifer
was getting his calls or not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He hoped
she wasn’t just not answering him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
probably hated him – he kind of hated himself – but he just couldn’t stand this
place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d felt like he was losing his
mind here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d even started hearing a
weird mumbling voice that scared him worse than any of the rest of it,
especially when he’d made out a few of the things it was saying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He hadn’t told Jennifer about that, for fear
of disturbing her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d tried to protect
her, right up to the moment he’d abandoned her to the nightmare.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Jen?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s Gary,” he said, walking through the
rooms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Total silence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She must not be here.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Good lord,
everything in the apartment was a ridiculous jumble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of his shoes was dangling from the
ceiling fan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had a potato stuck in
it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Probably the
work of the idiot roommate, he thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Who else?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Bentley Bear was
on the kitchen table, minus his eyes and nose, all crazy grin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A fork stuck out between his legs, with an
eraser impaled on it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Magnets from the
refrigerator were everywhere, stuck to anything that would hold them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His field guide to birds was in a skillet on
the stove, slathered in butter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A circle
of raisins was on the floor with a jar of pickles – wearing his hat - in the
middle of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone had used
dishwashing liquid to fingerpaint on the countertop, nonsense letters.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Jennifer must
have moved out, and the roommate had thrown a tantrum, he thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The apartment had been turned into a museum
of the insane.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
The bedroom,
though, was the worst.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What he saw there
terrified him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Using what was
almost certainly blood, someone had drawn a huge laughing face on the wall,
eyes wide, mouth impossibly big, proportions all wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His name – with the R backwards – was
scrawled above it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Jesus,
Jennifer,” Gary gasped.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
“Yes?” a voice
said, and then a giggle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And a babble.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
He looked
around, startled, but there was no one in the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The giggling and muttering continued.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
Then hands – one
Jennifer’s, crusted with blood, one cold and damp and unseen – grabbed him by
the ankles and pulled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yelping, Gary
fell.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
They pulled him
under the bed with them, and, though he was screaming and then laughing as hard
as he could, he still heard the things they had to tell him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">THE END</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2017 by me</span></span> </span></span></div>
Zwolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02364540771153476179noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-54566903316299207712017-09-07T12:20:00.001-05:002017-09-07T12:20:35.065-05:00Goodbye, Moonmen...Another cover song, this time as a tribute to my pal, Andrew Lint, who passed away earlier this year in a car crash (and who was a huge Rick and Morty fan).<br />
<br />
Here, I'm covering "Goodbye, Moonmen" by Fart (as voiced by Jemaine Clement)... Hope you don't hate it too much. (And, honestly, fuck you if you do!)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.com/Built%20of%20Bones/setlist/m49-mmen.mp3" target="_blank"><img alt="Goodbye, Moonmen" border="0" data-original-height="909" data-original-width="1600" height="361" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyVln5dSRIU2WMpEk7Cl8Abz8kdCCyShTuftjyQnIINwadgEaSSmV16DFpK5YHQ8vqrMwEkKP1qPhoU6HXSEgjtbjVlhlNSMRLM-WsTtyE60QJ55BtKxFfV43NIPHNhFwO2sfC0m1H3xe8/s640/Goodbye_Moonmen.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.com/Built%20of%20Bones/setlist/m49-mmen.mp3" target="_blank">Goodbye, Moonmen</a></div>
Igorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857186835391466064noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-22603322623114673652017-08-29T13:43:00.000-05:002017-08-29T13:43:05.028-05:00Two New Cover Songs......well, new to you, anyway... <br />
<br />
Here's me solo on guitar and vocals, working on Pink Floyd's "Fearless" and Jane's Addiction's "I Would for You," both lo-fi versions recorded on first pass ("I Would for You" is built on a live-recorded loop) and posted here, warts'n'all...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.com/Built%20of%20Bones/setlist/bob-fl.mp3" target="_blank"><img alt=" Fearless" border="0" data-original-height="1138" data-original-width="1131" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7V7QRKd5GB35fnGXu8Jv73OpR1_2KtN-54ILuC2ufxTOIWqP_2bdoE66fsNMCwewNDem2_M_EM-MhG5CdYITskvOuJ9zhzhWHr0WFtKF2WYbuHSFxMOEcq6X3hqrj-sPhz0e5_Tu6hAB_/s320/FEARLESS.jpg" width="318" /></a><br /><a href="http://mightyblowhole.com/Built%20of%20Bones/setlist/bob-fl.mp3" target="_blank">Fearless</a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.com/Built%20of%20Bones/setlist/m49-iw4u.mp3" target="_blank"><img alt="I Would for You" border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlNCxLOeRERp3QjRHBXCsFohORNW4WIAVcYY2vvx5JOuqsMpuuTCziizriCt62j61GN4iEPg_ceAh4wdF56ZLm84Ds69fXOBrglHY_weQ3rsjEk8Pr_1nOBva4uNopjRE5ZgKrMEpR1M9O/s320/ja.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.com/Built%20of%20Bones/setlist/m49-iw4u.mp3" target="_blank">I Would for You </a></div>
<br />Igorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11857186835391466064noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-45994523487432129142017-08-22T08:03:00.002-05:002017-08-22T08:29:05.207-05:00The Guy-In-The-Hallway ShowAnother creepy short story for ya. I wrote so many recently I figured I should parse a few out before Halloween, because nobody'd want to read a huge glut at once.<br />
<br />
This one's pretty weird. Don't read it in class. <br />
<br />
If you like it, we have plenty more on this website, so here's a handy table of malcontents:<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
KickerOfElves:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/rigor-mortis.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Rigor Mortis</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/men-with-knives.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Men With Knives</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Profbolt:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/08/east-of-rulesville-guest-short-story.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">East of Rulesville</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My stuff:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/03/out-by-turbines_13.html" target="_blank">Out By The Turbines </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/the-screaming-head-of-sister-mary-agnes.html" target="_blank">The Screaming Head of Sister Mary Agnes </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/10/pray-for-agatha-burning-in-hell.html" target="_blank">Pray For Agatha, Burning In Hell </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-night-is-filled-with-maniacs.html">The Night Is Filled With Maniacs </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/03/gone-shootin.html" target="_blank">Gone Shootin' </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/some-kinda-hate.html" target="_blank">Some Kinda Hate </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/creak.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Creak</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/shrouded-in-rain.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shrouded In Rain </span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2013/11/bodies-not-recovered.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Bodies Not Recovered</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/10/scribblebones.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scribblebones</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/long-tall-sally.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Long Tall Sally</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/shik-chuff.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shik-Chuff</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/11/damp-basements-of-heaven.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">The Damp Basements of Heaven</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2010/10/up-stairs-where-windows-are-painted.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Up The Stairs Where The Windows Are Painted Black</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/665-1.html" target="_blank">665+1 </a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
And <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/10/pleasant-dreams.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">little descriptions of actual nightmares I’ve had</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: white;">=====================<span style="color: black;">=========</span></span></span><br />
<br />
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="endnote text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="table of authorities"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="macro"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="toa heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Closing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Message Header"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Salutation"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Date"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Block Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Hyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="FollowedHyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Document Map"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Plain Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="E-mail Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Top of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Bottom of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal (Web)"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Acronym"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Cite"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Code"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Definition"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Keyboard"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Preformatted"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Sample"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Typewriter"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Variable"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal Table"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation subject"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="No List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Contemporary"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Elegant"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Professional"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Balloon Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Theme"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" QFormat="true"
Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="List Table 1 Light"/>
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</span></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The
Guy-In-The-Hallway Show</b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
was trying to imagine a real life situation in which he’d need to determine the
area of a hexagon and he was coming up with squat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And not-quite-squat was the answer he was
getting for the geometry problem Mr. Hasselbach had scrawled across the
board.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knew how to find the area of a
triangle so he thought about dividing the damn thing into those like some
wonk-edged pizza, then adding them together, but Mr. Hasselbach would probably
view that as cheating rather than ingenuity so he gave up and started waiting
the problem out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His classmates all
seemed to be tackling it, but most of them were probably bullshitting as much
as he was.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Fidgeting,
his eyes wandered toward the classroom door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A kid was standing in the window, peering in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t anyone Tom remembered seeing
before, a skinny guy with longish hair, very straight, either light brown or
dark blonde; it was hard to tell with the bad lighting in the hall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Often, Tom could barely find things in his
locker, so, shades didn’t have much chance in the gloom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, it was strange to see an unfamiliar
kid in such a small school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Must be a
newbie, trying to find his classroom.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
kid spotted Tom looking at him and suddenly crossed his eyes and made a
feeding-fish motion with his mouth, and Tom had to stifle a laugh of
surprise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Making a face like he was
screaming, the kid reached up and lifted pieces of his hair, like his brain was
exploding, and Tom looked back at his paper and snorted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He coughed to hide a laugh, but still wanted
to giggle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could see the kid still
standing in the window and refused to look up, knowing he’d start braying with
laughter, whatever the kid did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If Mr.
Hasselbach happened to glance over and see him, that kid’s ass was grass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t seem to give a damn, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tom scanned the room and nobody else seemed
to have noticed the guy, who was now standing very straight, one eyebrow
raised, the eyelid of the other half-lowered, his bottom teeth stuck out like a
bulldog’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He swayed back and forth for
a second and froze again, and Tom snorted and looked away, fake-coughing
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was bizarre and hilarious, but
it was going to get him in trouble.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Why
wasn’t the kid in class?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Was he ditching
just to clown around and make faces at kids he didn’t know?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Weird.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
glanced up and the kid was making the same face but opening and closing his
mouth like a ventriloquist’s dummy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then
he winked at Tom, pointed emphatically at Mr. Hasselbach with a big smile, and
started moving his hand in front of his mouth and poking his tongue into his
cheek, miming a blow-job.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tom looked
away, biting his lip hard, wanting to fall out howling but also starting to get
mad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d look like a fool if he
suddenly started laughing, and maybe get detention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mr. Hasselbach was a humorless hard-on who
had no patience for interruptions.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
snickered to himself and refused to look at the door, although he could still
see, on the edge of his vision, that the guy was still standing there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The red shape of his shirt started moving
like he was doing some shuffle-off-to-Buffalo dance and Tom snorted and coughed
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How was Mr. Hasselbach not seeing
this?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d murder this guy when he
caught him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thinking of how angry Mr.
Hasselbach would be only made it all funnier.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then
Mr. Hasselbach called for pencils down and Tom looked back at the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The window was empty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mr. Hasselbach started explaining what Tom
had missed the first time about finding the area of a hexagon and even though
Tom didn’t give any more of a damn about it than he had the first time he tried
to pay attention.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> * * *</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Two
days later, in English class, the kid showed up at the hallway door again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
was far more interested in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">MacBeth</i> than
he was in hexagons, but his eyes still wandered, mostly toward Suzy Watkins,
who he had a crush on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had her light
brown hair tied back with a fuzzy blue ribbon and it made her look so adorable
it was practically cruelty on her part.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He was letting his eyes soak up the image, memorizing it, when he
noticed movement in the window past her head.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
was the goofy guy again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He saw Tom
looking and started marching in place, then threw an exaggerated salute and
stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Tom struggled not to laugh, mostly from surprise and the memory of what
had happened in geometry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Good lord, did
this kid never go to class?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did he even
go to school here?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tom had never seen
him before except in the windows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was
even still wearing the same red tee shirt.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
guy started a mime routine with a big wide-eyed smile on his face, staring
right at Tom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He pressed his hands at
the air, doing the old trapped-in-a-box bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His big smile faded and twisted into a soundless scream of exaggerated
horror, and he pounded frantically at the air, so violently that Tom was amazed
no one else was noticing it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
disturbing but so surreal that Tom wanted to guffaw at it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked back at his book and tried to focus
on what Mrs. Jameson was saying about Burnham Wood, but he knew, in that
window, something ridiculous was happening.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
glanced up again and the guy, with the laughing face of a maniac, seemed to be
throttling someone just past the edge of the window, and Tom blurted out a
laugh and covered it with a cough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mrs.
Jameson glanced at him and he tried not to look guilty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was a laid-back sort and didn’t miss a
beat, though he imagined she was wondering what Tom Waters found so damn funny
about plant imagery in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">MacBeth</i>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
made it three minutes before he looked at the door again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There, right behind Suzy’s beautiful profile,
the guy was crosseyed and tongue-outthrust.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Seeing he had Tom’s attention again, he raised a finger like he’d had a
“Eureka!” idea, and mimed pulling down his pants, crouched, and made a
straining face like he was taking a shit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Or maybe he was actually doing it, who knew?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kid was crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tom squeezed his eyes tight shut and ducked
his head, shaking with silent laughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That was too goddamn much!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why
was nobody else seeing this?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
looked up and the guy fanned a hand at the air like he was waving away stench,
then grinned at Tom and gave him a triumphant thumb’s up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
burst out laughing, and the class turned to look at him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Something funny, Tom?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mrs. Jameson asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sorry,”
Tom sputtered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Sorry, I just thought of
something funny.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t want to fink
on the joker in the hallway, even though he didn’t know him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You just didn’t rat on people, even strangers
getting you in trouble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And anyway, he
was gone now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
hope you’ll laugh as hard when we cover <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Much
Ado About Nothing,” </i>Mrs. Jameson said, smiling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“At least that one’s a comedy.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yes
ma’am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sorry,” Tom said, wondering if he
was blushing, because it felt like he was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Suzy was smiling at him, but not for any reason he welcomed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Great,
the pretty girl thinks I’m a headcase now.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mrs.
Jameson nodded and got back to business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Tom composed himself, still wanting to laugh, but also angry at the damn
kid for getting him in trouble.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> * * *</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
next day, in geometry again, he was back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Oh shit, </i>Tom thought, wanting to nudge
someone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d told a few friends after
English class but none of them had noticed any guy out in the hallway, although
they admitted they’d have laughed, too, had they seen it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wanted someone else to see the idiot, just
so he’d know he wasn’t crazy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mr.
Hasselbach was lecturing, and the kid in the hall was mocking him, frowning and
moving his mouth and making “professorial” gestures in the air, crossing his
eyes and brandishing his fist in a “by jiminy!” motion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He held up one finger and shook it while
making the jerk-off motion with his other hand.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Good lord, Mr. Hasselbach would </i>kill <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">him if glanced over and saw it, </i>Tom
thought, biting his lip and holding in laughs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He’d probably get fired because he would physically assault that
kid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The image of Mr. Hasselbach chasing
him down the hall made it even harder not to laugh.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Out
in the hall the guy was silently ranting, worked into a frenzy like Hitler
before a Munich crowd.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He must go to
school here, Tom thought, because some of the kids referred to Mr. Hasselbach
as Mr. Hitler’s Back, due to his authoritarian approach to class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The guy in the hall<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>curled his fists into his chest, then raised
them and shook them and silently screamed, beseeching the gods of geometry for
some trapezoidal blessing, then threw up a seig-heil salute and marched back
and forth.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh
shit,” Tom whispered, lowering his head, trying to think of the time his dog
Lucky had gotten run over by a truck to stifle the need to laugh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But even that seemed funny now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The damn dog’s name had been Lucky, for god’s
sake!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
guy in the hall had his nose pressed to the window, making a pig-snout of
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He licked the glass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He hooked his thumbs in his ears and waggled
his hands like moose antlers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then he
pointed toward Hasselbach and held his nose and waved a hand dismissively.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
lost it and laughed, hard.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mr.
Hasselbach, barely missing a beat, made out a detention slip and handed it to Tom,
then continued with class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kid in
the hall was gone.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> * * *</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
had only gotten detention once before, and that time he’d deserved it – he’d
shot off a couple of firecrackers he’d found in his coat pocket after Christmas
break – but still hated it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not that
they had to do anything, particularly, it was just humiliating, being singled
out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And this time it was all that
joker’s fault.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This
detention, thought, might not be so bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kaitlin Ross was the only other person there, and she was almost as
pretty as Suzy Watkins, and much more dangerous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had thick brown hair (which she’d gotten
in trouble for added pink streaks to once) and impossibly light green eyes,
which, if she wasn’t cutting scornfully at someone, she was usually rolling in contempt
of some school rule or other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was
the nail that stuck up and the school’s success at hammering her down had been woefully
limited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you were looking for a damn,
Kaitlin was always fresh out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was
gorgeous but didn’t seem to give the slightest damn about that, either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t know what her home life was like,
but always imagined that must be one hell of a story, and probably not a happy
one.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kaitlin
was kind of a badass, and Tom had always wanted to know her better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And since Coach Tate kept detention this week
and didn’t seem to care much about his responsibilities, he soon told them
“Ya’ll study now,” and went away, leaving them alone.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kaitlin
shoved her book aside and put her feet up on a neighboring desk and gave Tom a gunfighter
squint.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“So, who’d you murder to get
here?” she asked, like she couldn’t care less but needed to pass wearisome
time.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Nobody.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although I’d like to murder Mr. Hasselbach,”
Tom said.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“With
a wrench in the conservatory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shit, get
in the fucking line, brah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everybody
wants to kill that douche-dribble.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Even her voice was hot, edged low, a little husky, like everything she
said was some dirty secret.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yeah, the
hell with Suzy Watkins and her cute little ponytails, Tom thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“So what’d you do to piss off
Assholesbach?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Breathe too hard?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Look like you were enjoying life?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Pretty
much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I laughed.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Laughing’s
the best thing to get a D. T. for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That’s what got me in here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So,
what set you off?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Show you mine you show
me yours.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
settled into his desk, happy to be actually talking to Kaitlin Ross. Those eyes
were amazing, and those cheekbones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She’d gotten sent to detention once, he’d heard, for carrying a knife,
and that gave her a mystique that Suzy Watkins could never manage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Suzy was gorgeous, yeah, but she wasn’t <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">trouble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“There was some guy in the
hallway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some kid I’ve never seen
before, but he’s shown up at the doors to classrooms three times now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He does all this hilarious shit.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh
my effin’ god, I can’t believe somebody else has finally seen him!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kaitlin said, sounding awake now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
saw him too?”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Hell
yes I did!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A couple of times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s what got me in here, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was in biology and this dork shows up, like
this tall skinny blonde guy, hair kind of like Johnny Ramone?”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
wasn’t sure what Johnny Ramone looked like but he said, “Yeah, that’s him!”</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Gotta
be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean, how many guys can be running
around the halls doing this junk, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>None in this chickenshit school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So he’s up there making these stupid faces at me, and he starts doing
this dance, like he’s a puppet with strings on him?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stupidest thing I’ve ever seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Embarrassing to watch, and it’s like he knows
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I’m about to crack up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then he starts mocking Mr. VanCleig, right
behind his back, all waving his arms around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then he acts like he’s pissing all over everything, with this
boy-do-I-like-pissing look on his face, and oh, fuck, dude, I fuckin’ lost
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m just fuckin’ <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">howling</i>, I
can’t even help it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ‘bout ta
peed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And Mr. VanCleig hates my ass,
anyway, so he gives me a D.T. and a lecture on maturity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d been lecturing about frogs mating, and
the jackass thought I was hee-hawing over frog sperm.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
laughed.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Now,
frog cum is a pretty funny-ass thing, I’ll grant you, but it takes more than
that to make me wag my tail,” Kaitlin said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Maybe if you had a film strip of a frog jerking off on some eggs or
something, another frog’s face, maybe, then, okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While looking at a frog <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Playboy</i> or something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That
might do me.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
laughed harder, and Kaitlin seemed pleased.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“So
what’d hallway boy do when you saw him?”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh,
god, he’s been doing all kinds of stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Making faces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He did that
trapped-in-a-box mime thing but went way overboard with it, like he was buried
alive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He pretended he was taking a dump
outside English class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And he was
imitating Mr. Hasselbach and turned it into this Hitler thing, goose-stepping
up and down the hallway with his arm up.”</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kaitlin
snorted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Hasselbach deserves it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wish he’d seen it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Guy’s uptight as a Baptist at a
damn-near-anything.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She reached over
and put her hand on his arm and looked seriously at him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Oh, if you’re a Baptist, I’m sorry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not if I offended you, just that you’re a
fuckin’ Baptist.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Episcopalian.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Or my parents are, I don’t really buy any of it.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Good
man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s horseshit.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She did a crucifixion pose and made a face,
then waved it off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She swept her hair
back and leaned back in her chair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Wow,
so somebody else saw the guy in the hallway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Righteous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sorry you got a D.T.
for it, but I’m glad I’m not the only one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Nobody else saw this guy in VanCleig’s class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked around after.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“In
my classes, either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was starting to
think I was crazy.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Me
too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, crazier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve known I’m crazy for a while now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ever since that thing with the baby ducks and
the hammer.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What?”
Tom laughed.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Christ,
but you’re easy,” Kaitlin said, rolling her eyes.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
know, we should hunt this guy down and beat the snot out of him for getting us
in trouble,” Tom said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh,
naw, dude, he’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">hilarious!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>That guy’s like my hero.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah,
he’s funny, but, detention.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’d
have found my way here somehow or other, anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The teachers all hate me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fair enough, I hated them first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bunch of watered-down cops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m just glad this guy’s skipping class and
disrupting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d like to shake his hand.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Does
he even <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">go </i>here, though?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve never seen him in any classes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it’s not that big a school.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know him, either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe he’s some homeless kid who sneaks in to
make fun of the place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which would make
him the most awesome dude in the universe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This school needs to be mocked so bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I don’t care if he got me in trouble, I love the fucking guy.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
guess it is pretty funny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also a little
creepy, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean, he must be
crazy.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Crazy
plus creepy equals funny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You sure you
aren’t a Baptist?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“No, I swear.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Loosen
up, then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Got no excuse if you aren’t
Baptist-damaged.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’ll
try.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Promise.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kaitlin
smiled, then bit her lip in a way Tom found unbearably sexy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Prove it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Let’s leave.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What
if Coach comes back?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“He
won’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every time Tate’s got D.T. duty I
leave as soon as he does.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d’ve been
out outty five minutes after he was if I wasn’t having fun talking to you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Thanks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like you, too.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Hey,
I didn’t say I liked you, I just said it was fun talking.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tom poked his lip out in a sad face.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You’re okay, I’m just
yankin’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I yank.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a bitch thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, we leavin’?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sure</i> he won’t come back?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Would it be fun if I was sure?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gamble a little.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re a Baptist, you’re a fuckin’ Baptist.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
laughed. “Am not!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Man, you hate the
Baptists.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Only
because I know so many of ‘em.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And all
of ‘em but maybe three are cinched-up buttcracks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So tight-assed you have to be a dog to hear
‘em fart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyway, Tate doesn’t give a
hang, trust me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve walked past him in
the hall on the way out and he didn’t say boo.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Okay.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“And
that’s where many a boy went wrong, trustin’ in girls,” Kaitlin said, gathering
up her books.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tom followed her out,
hoping he wasn’t doing the wrong thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Good lord, her butt was cute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Suzy Watkins didn’t have such a butt.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He’d
hoped they’d hang out in the parking lot a while, but after a see-ya-around
Kaitlin jumped into her old Datsun and was gone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> * * *</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> </span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
turned out to be the last time he ever saw her, because over the weekend,
Kaitlin Ross was stabbed to death and left on the side of the road by persons
unknown.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> * * *</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> </span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
school was still shocked about Kaitlin’s death and talking about little else
when the guy showed up in the doorway again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
was back in geometry when he saw him, and this time he felt nothing but a wave
of dread.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Not now</i>, he thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">God, not anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was fun when the guy was something he shared with Kaitlin, but now Kaitlin was
a murder victim and it was just painful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He thought maybe he was even friends with her, because of this guy, and
then she was gone, like that, like a big cheat.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
guy was making faces like Mr. Bean, eyes wide open, mouth in a wide, simpering
smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He held up his hands, made a
circle with one, then slid the index finger of the other in and out of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He frowned at his fingers disapprovingly, the
shook his head at Tom, like, “This is terrible, but what can you do?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ordinarily,
Tom would have had to laugh at that, but now he refused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He felt cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He wasn’t going back to detention and sitting in a room where he’d
bonded with Kaitlin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was too creepy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was something wrong with this guy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
guy pulled his finger out of his circled fingers, sniffed it, then stuck his
tongue into the hole.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He made a face and
scraped his tongue with his teeth, and pretended to pick a hair off of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tom hoped Mr. Hasselbach would look over and
see him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
guy smirked at Tom and pretended to peel a banana, then took a bite. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He made a disgusted face, pretended to spit it
out, then mimed stuffing the banana up his ass.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
wasn’t funny, just obscene.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tom wondered
again why the guy was doing this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One
time was a joke or a prank, but all the time?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That was a job, like working a shift.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How was he never caught?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
looked away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From the corner of his eye
he could see the guy waiting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As soon as
Tom looked, the performance would resume.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The hell with you,</i> Tom thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
longer you stand there, the bigger your chance of getting caught.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So wait your damn ass off.</i> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Fifteen
minutes passed, and the guy didn’t leave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Finally Tom looked back up at him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
guy grinned, BUGGED HIS EYES OUT OF THEIR SOCKETS, AND THEN HIS TONGUE CAME OUT
AND LICKED THEM.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
froze and a cold wave went through him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That
was physically impossible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What the guy
had just done could not be accomplished by human anatomy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>One
of the guy’s eyes grew twice as large as the other. His jaw unhinged and
dropped to his chest, and his ears – suddenly three times their size – stuck
out and waggled.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I’m hallucinating</i>, Tom thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I can’t be seeing what I’m seeing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Nobody else is seeing it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kaitlin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kaitlin had seen it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wasn’t crazy if Kaitlin had also seen this
guy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Was he the one who’d stabbed her?</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></i>The thought hit Tom like a
fist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Could he be?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>How
was he making those faces?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That wasn’t
human.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anatomy wouldn’t ---</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Tom,
pay attention,” Mr. Hasselbach snapped.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Uh?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, sorry, sir,” Tom said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The window was empty again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mr.
Hasselbach grunted and continued his lecture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What
if he’d sent me to the principal?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d be
out in the hall with that guy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">thing</i> – it wasn’t a guy, nobody could
make their face do what his had done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
was bait, to lure him out there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then
what would happen?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> * * *</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Two
days later, in English, the guy showed up at the door, and Tom felt a dark wave
of dread, like recognition of a hated nightmare about to reoccur.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">No.
No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t want to see.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
guy smiled at him and went into a mime routine, hauling on an invisible
rope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Straining his face, he pulled
hard, hauling in the rope, pulling something into the window with him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>At
the end of it, acting like her hands were bound, was Kaitlin Ross.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom’s
vision went grey and he felt his blood pressure whine in his ears.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">NO.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>NO NO NO NO NO!</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kaitlin
smiled big and waved at him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then she
and the guy went into a dance step, an old-fashioned running-in-place thing,
both grinning like goons and swinging their elbows.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I’m not seeing this, </i>Tom thought, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I’m not, I am not.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kaitlin
stopped dancing and mimed a crucifixion pose, as she had in detention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The guy pretended to pee all over her, then
stabbed at her, and she made agonized faces that knotted Tom’s guts. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then she bent over, silently laughing,
slapping her knees.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
squeezed his eyes shut, forgetting to breathe, trembling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The terror was absolute, all encompassing,
overwhelming, but there was also pain, choking pain, a sadness like lead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d liked her, a lot it turned out, and she
was dead and it was unfair, unfunny, and he would not bear it mocked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He would not see this.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">WHY DO THE OTHERS NOT SEE THIS?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>WHY ONLY ME?</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
looked up and Kaitlin and the guy were miming sex in the doorway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kaitlin’s eyes bugged out in cartoonish
imitation of orgasm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The guy’s hair
stood straight up and his tongue stuck out of his mouth a foot and a half.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had a grip on her neck, the other poised
to stab.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Insane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m insane.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
looked back down, staring through his book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He refused to look up again until class was over.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> * * *</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
the day went on Tom tried to convince himself that he’d only dreamed what he’d
seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He must have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not only had they done physically impossible
things with their faces, Kaitlin was dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Unless there was some huge lie, she’d been murdered, and thus could not
be in the hallway.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
during geometry class, they came back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
had been watching the door with dread – he always did now – and once when he
looked up, Kaitlin was standing there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Coldness uncurled inside of him and Kaitlin mocked him by making a sad
face and wiping at her eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still
looking bereaved, she put a hand into her armpit and cranked her arm, miming
armpit-farts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She stuck her tongue out
at him and did a little dance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then she
made a surprised face, then a happy one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then the guy rose up from behind her, as if he’d been kissing her ass,
and waggled his eyebrows at Tom like Groucho Marx.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They
bobbed up and down, making faces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
went through several Three Stooges moves, eye-gouging, nose-slapping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kaitlin made a face like she was horrifically
dead – probably the actual face she’d had when they found her on the side of
the frontage road near the county line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The guy mimed necrophilia with her, and Tom’s eyes stung.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Again,
he looked down and refused to look up until class was over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He couldn’t take it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not anymore.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> * * *</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Depression
settled in like a change of season, and Tom seldom felt anything but sadness
and dread.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kaitlin and her “hero” didn’t
show up every day, but they showed up often enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes it was just one or the other, but
usually both.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They did all sorts of
silly things but Tom wasn’t laughing anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If anyone else saw them he never found out about it and he didn’t dare
talk to anyone about it, because no one saw dead girls doing slapstick unless
they were crazy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
didn’t think he was crazy. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kaitlin had
seen it too, so, no, he was afraid he wasn’t crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was afraid he was singled out by something
horrible.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>At night he
dreamed of them, and woke and, sent by the dream to his window, saw them in the
darkness of his yard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They hid, but he
saw them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heard them giggling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He thought of running out and confronting
them, getting this all over with, but maybe that’s what Kaitlin had done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe she’d gone out to shake the
troublemaker’s hand and found a knife in it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Still, Tom wanted this to stop, but his fear always won out, kept him
from running out into the night and into the ranks of the missing and presumed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He dragged the secret along behind him like a weight chained to his leg
and came home weary every day from the effort of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He learned to fake smiles for his parents
because it was easier than explaining things</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
every day at school was one long wait.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was nearly as bad when they didn’t show up as when they did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He felt drained, weak, fading.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> * * *</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kaitlin
and the guy were standing straight up in the geometry room door’s window, at
attention, as if reporting for duty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They saluted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kaitlin smiled at
him and waved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God, she was still pretty,
even dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who could stab someone like
that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seemed impossible, too much for
anyone to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d been a “bad girl”
but as far as Tom could tell most of the “bad” she did was just a refusal to
fall into rank like the rest of their classmates, who Tom was increasingly
viewing as cattle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They conformed,
without an original or brave thought in their heads, and what was the point of
them?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They couldn’t see what was going
on in the hall, too dialed-in to what they were supposed to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The “bad” Kaitlin had been guilty of didn’t
seem like it was bad at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then
she was gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not gone enough, but,
taken away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sent into the hallway.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>While
the guy beside her shadow-boxed and took punches from an imaginary opponent –
each of which changed his face into something more impossibly cartoonish –
Kaitlin mocked Mr. Hasselbach, crossing her amazing green eyes and silently
ranting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She drew triangles in the air
with one hand while pretending to jerk off with the other, and for the first
time in weeks Tom felt himself starting to laugh at it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kaitlin
winked at him and pretended to shove the imaginary dry-erase marker she was
drawing the figures with up her ass, making ooo-that’s-good faces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had her Mr. Hasselbach imitation down,
and Tom grinned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why did she have to be
dead?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He’d
known her ten minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Long enough to
really miss her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
guy beside Kaitlin rode an invisible pogo stick, went down the hall a second,
then returned and began miming pulling on a rope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kaitlin joined him and they hauled hard.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tom
felt something inside him move, and cold, heavy terror gripped him like a
fist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">No. </i>He knew they were going to pull something into that window that
he must not see.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He couldn’t bear
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">No.
NO!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>He wanted to rush the door, to
scream for them to stop, but he was all numb, couldn’t move.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kaitlin
smiled at him again and winked and they yanked the rope.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
then Tom saw himself out in the hall with them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He wanted to scream as he waved at himself in the classroom, and stuck
his tongue out at himself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kaitlin and
the other guy joined hands with Tom and danced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They linked elbows and the three skipped away down the hall, into the
darkness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When
the bell rang, Tom was the only student who didn’t leave his seat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one ever knew why, exactly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The autopsy was inconclusive.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>THE
END</b></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2017 </span>Zwolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02364540771153476179noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-83713745036707993042017-04-17T08:44:00.004-05:002017-04-17T08:45:44.689-05:00Some Kinda HateYep, got another one for ya. It's short, but most of the story happens after the last period. You'll see what I mean. By the way, that after-the-last-period story is really, really nasty.<br />
<br />
The title's inspired by <a href="https://youtu.be/z25IpLCj8uE" target="_blank">the Misfits song</a>, o' course:<br />
<br />
<br />
As always, here's the table of contents if you want more.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
KickerOfElves:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/rigor-mortis.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Rigor Mortis</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/men-with-knives.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Men With Knives</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Profbolt:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/08/east-of-rulesville-guest-short-story.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">East of Rulesville</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My stuff:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/03/out-by-turbines_13.html" target="_blank">Out By The Turbines </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/04/the-screaming-head-of-sister-mary-agnes.html" target="_blank">The Screaming Head of Sister Mary Agnes </a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/10/pray-for-agatha-burning-in-hell.html" target="_blank">Pray For Agatha, Burning In Hell </a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-night-is-filled-with-maniacs.html">The Night Is Filled With Maniacs </a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/03/gone-shootin.html" target="_blank">Gone Shootin' </a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/creak.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Creak</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/shrouded-in-rain.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shrouded In Rain </span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2013/11/bodies-not-recovered.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Bodies Not Recovered</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/10/scribblebones.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scribblebones</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/long-tall-sally.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Long Tall Sally</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/shik-chuff.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shik-Chuff</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/11/damp-basements-of-heaven.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">The Damp Basements of Heaven</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2010/10/up-stairs-where-windows-are-painted.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Up The Stairs Where The Windows Are Painted Black</span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/665-1.html" target="_blank">665+1 </a></span></div>
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And <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/10/pleasant-dreams.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">little descriptions of actual nightmares I’ve had</span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: white;">=====================<span style="color: black;">==============================================</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> <span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></span><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">SOME KINDA HATE</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Don't worry about what was in that tranquilizer dart," the man said as Ted drifted into wakefulness. The light came to him like layers of gauze being peeled away. His eyes felt fat, his head stuffed with cotton, and the voice was clear but seemed distant, echoing. "I was very careful. I did a lot of research on the drug and measured it exactly for your size and weight. I wanted to be very sure. Wouldn't want to kill you."</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Ted squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his head, forcing himself to focus on the man on the other side of the bars. He knew the face and for a second he couldn't place it but then the memory came rocketing through the tranquilizer fog, blowing it all away in a cold wave of terror. "Like hell you don't want to kill me. How could you </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">not</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> want to kill me?"</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The man smiled. "Hard to believe, isn't it? But I really don't. I did, for a long time. But that was just impulse, and I’m past that. Now, killing you is the last thing I want to do."</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Then why did you bring me here? And what is this place?" He reached out and pulled at one of the bars. Solid.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"It's an old bomb shelter. Laid in, oh, about the time of the Korean War, I’d guess. Lots of paranoid people back then. Nobody remembers it exists. The man who owned the house died and the thing was buried. I had to dig to find it.” He walked back and forth, although the space in front of the bars didn’t leave much room for pacing. “I've hidden a few solar panels around to keep that light going a few hours a day. Hooked the water back up, so that toilet and sink are good. I gave myself a course in plumbing to make them work. I learned welding to install those bars. I did a lot of work for you." He smiled the kind of smile you get if you bite into a lemon. "As far as why I brought you here... " He shrugged. "Maybe to offer you a chance at redemption."</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"I served my time in prison already."</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Three years," the man snorted.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"It was what they gave me." Ted rubbed his face and squinted in the dimness. He was hemmed in by cement on three sides, with rebar welded in front of them, quite unnecessarily, and the front was a door made of more rebar. The space was cramped by a sink and toilet and piled high with boxes, mostly full of pork and beans if the stenciling on the cartons was to be trusted. The space was smaller than his old cell, barely enough room to lie down. "From the looks of what you've built here, and the sneer in your voice, I'm guessing you don't think three years was enough."</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The man -- Warren Osgood, Ted remembered, although throughout the trial he'd thought of him as Julie's dad -- sat down in a ratty lawn chair that grated on the concrete as it took his weight, which was considerable. He'd put on about thirty pounds since Ted had seen him at the trial four years ago, maybe five. He was still short, still had the mustache, but it was grayer now, as was his hair, and there was less of that. The half-decade had been unkind to him. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">He sighed. "After you went to prison for beating and raping my daughter, it wasn't over for her. She had problems, my Julie, even before she had the misfortune to run into you. Those problems were why she went out with guys like you, I guess. Perhaps due to luck, or maybe just because people of your level of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">shittiness</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> are fortunately rare, none of the others treated her the way you did."</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The old guilt flowed back into Ted like a blanket lined with lead had dropped onto him. It had never left, but sometimes he felt its weight more, and, seeing Julie's dad, he felt every ounce. He'd been drunk when he did what he did to Julie, and he’d been miserable, desperately miserable. She had been a sad kid, full of need, and he'd given her the worst thing he could have given her. He hated himself for it, but, he'd had problems of his own. That, of course, didn't excuse anything, and he didn't even bother bringing any of it up to Julie's dad. The reasons had always sounded weak even in his own head, and only worse now that he was confronted. They would only enrage Julie’s dad if he spoke them. So, he sat and listened.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Julie's dad rubbed his palms together and gritted his teeth. Even in the gloom Ted could see him trembling with rage, talking about this.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Yeah, Julie had troubles. She didn't think enough of herself, and I, and her mother, were unsuccessful at making her see herself the way we saw her. I know you didn't think much of her -- you coudln't've, to do what you did -- but that girl, my Julie, was my world. You've never loved anyone or anything a tenth as much as I did my little girl. And I couldn't make her see it." He cleared his throat, which sounded tight.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Ted stared down, not wanting to hear any of this but knowing that interrupting would be a bad idea. So he sat and took it, the way you took punches.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"What you did was like pushing a rock off the top of a mountain. Julie never recovered from it. She lasted seven months after you went to prison, miserable every hour of it. I don't know if they told you in prison or not, but she posted a goodbye on a blog at three a.m. when she knew no one would see it in time to try stopping her, then she drove into an overpass support at, they estimate, a hundred and forty miles an hour. Who even knew her car could go that fast?" He chuckled bitterly, a man who'd lived with this heartbreak so long he couldn't even cry over it anymore. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Ted thought of saying "I'm sorry" but knew it would go over worse than a fuck you. The damn thing was, he </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">was</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> sorry. He'd been sorry even before he knew about this. But they were past the place where being sorry does any good, so he just sat, quiet. A fly crawled along his arm, tickling his tattoo. There were lots of flies here, slow and fat in the heavy heat. It should be cold here, underground, but Julie's dad had hooked the solar panels to some heaters, too. He wanted the place uncomfortable, Ted supposed. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"We didn't even get a last look at our little girl, her mother and I. A hundred and forty meeting reinforced concrete doesn't leave much to look at, even without fire. And there was fire." Julie's dad nodded. "Lots of fire. Losing a child is bad enough without a closed casket. Casket, hell, it was an urn. My sweet little girl, who I taught to ride a bike... who I taught to </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">drive</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">, and don't I wish I'd never done </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">that</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">... a coffee can full of her. That's what was left at the bottom of the mountain when the rock you pushed reached it."</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">He looked down at Ted and smiled the least-smile of a smile Ted had ever seen. "Turns out it wasn't a rock, though. It was a domino. My wife, Sheryl, I guess she lasted, oh, not quite a year. Then she couldn't take it anymore and I came home and I couldn't wake her up. Pills. A hundred and forty miles an hour worth of pills. At least I got an open casket for my second-best girl." He laughed, and Ted wished he wouldn't.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"What happened to me after that doesn't really matter, because I don't care, but I've lost jobs, I drink, I don't sleep worth a fuck. I got a dog, but it ran away. Hell, I don’t blame it. I’d run away from me, too."</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">He laughed and it echoed. Everything here echoed. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"So, you've heard my tale of woe. I'm sure it doesn't really matter a damn to you, but do I have to ask you, in all honesty... would </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">you </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">think three years was fucking </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">ENOUGH?!"</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Ted winced. Julie's dad was leaning on the bars, smiling that not-a-smile in at him.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Probably not," Ted sighed.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Well, thank you, Mr. Rapist, for your honesty." Julie's dad laughed and paced up and down in the dark. Step-step, turn, step-step, turn. Ted sat, feeling dread build. The talking was done, so, now what?</span></div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"So, here are some things you'll need to know, going forward," Julie's dad said, stopping. "You have water. You have sanitation. You have food. Those boxes around you have enough food to last several years. You'll get sick of beans, but, you'll live. What you won't do is get out. Nobody remembers this place. Nobody can hear anything. I've tested all of it. Led Zeppelin could play a gig down here and nobody in the back yard would know it. But, yell if you want. Maybe it’ll help pass the time." </span></div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Julie's dad took out a key and approached the cage. He opened the door, stepped in, and locked it again and flung the key off into the dark. He took padlocks out of his pockets and fitted them into slots on the door, snapping them shut. Ted stared at him.</span></div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"What the hell are you doing?" He backed against the boxes, and there was still barely room for him to squeeze in with Julie's dad's bulk. He thought about fighting him, but it was too late now, they were locked in together. Besides, the tranquilizer had left him feeling so weak he wouldn't stand a chance.</span></div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Locking myself in with you," he said. "Isn't that obvious?" </span></div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Why?"</span></div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Julie's dad reached under his coat, behind his back, and pulled out a snub-nosed .357 Magnum. </span></div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"What the fuck?" Ted asked. "What're you..."</span></div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Relax," Julie's dad grinned. "I told you I wasn't going to kill you, and I'm not. I hate you far too much to kill you."</span></div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Then why the gun?"</span></div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Julie's dad laughed. They were almost chest-to-chest in the confines of the cage. The heat was terrible and flies buzzed around them both. "If I were you," Julie's dad whispered, "I'd eat as much of me as you could, so there'll be less to rot. It's going to get awful close in here as the months go by and the heat gets bad and the flies get busy."</span></div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Then, while Ted screamed, Julie's dad stuck the gun into his laughing mouth and fired its single bullet.</span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">THE END</span></span></span></div>
</div>
Zwolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02364540771153476179noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-82657797846546930412017-04-04T10:33:00.000-05:002017-04-04T10:34:36.982-05:00The Screaming Head of Sister Mary AgnesYep, another short story. This one should be enough to get me excommunicated... and I'm not even Catholic. That'll probably be obvious to any Catholics out there, because I'm sure I got a lot of stuff wrong. I'm not a church-guy at all and about all I know of "the business" I picked up from <i>The Exorcist</i>, so feel free to correct me... provided we're still on speaking terms when you get to that last line.<br />
<br />
This one's a lot shorter than usual, so, there's that.<br />
<br />
As always, feedback is great, and if ya want more, here's the table of contents:<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
KickerOfElves:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/rigor-mortis.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Rigor Mortis</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/men-with-knives.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Men With Knives</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Profbolt:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/08/east-of-rulesville-guest-short-story.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">East of Rulesville</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My stuff:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2017/03/out-by-turbines_13.html" target="_blank">Out By The Turbines </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/10/pray-for-agatha-burning-in-hell.html" target="_blank">Pray For Agatha, Burning In Hell </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-night-is-filled-with-maniacs.html">The Night Is Filled With Maniacs </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/03/gone-shootin.html" target="_blank">Gone Shootin' </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/creak.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Creak</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/shrouded-in-rain.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shrouded In Rain </span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2013/11/bodies-not-recovered.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Bodies Not Recovered</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/10/scribblebones.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scribblebones</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/long-tall-sally.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Long Tall Sally</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/shik-chuff.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shik-Chuff</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/11/damp-basements-of-heaven.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">The Damp Basements of Heaven</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2010/10/up-stairs-where-windows-are-painted.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Up The Stairs Where The Windows Are Painted Black</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/665-1.html" target="_blank">665+1 </a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
And <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/10/pleasant-dreams.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">little descriptions of actual nightmares I’ve had</span></a></div>
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;">==========================================================</span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<h2 dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-857e8a08-3988-ea7d-45f0-e153e735ef77" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">THE SCREAMING HEAD OF SISTER MARY AGNES</span></b></span></span></h2>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Father Thomas trembled as he examined the severed head in his hands; even through his gloves he could feel the suppleness of the flesh, though surely the feeling of warmth was just a trick of his mind.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">She was perfect. A genuine incorruptible. Exactly what they needed.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"That's really been in there for four centuries?" Stephen said, stepping a little closer for a look. He'd opened the wall of the convent for them readily enough, but once he'd pried out the bricks he'd backed away, terrified of the idea of relics, much less the actual sight of one. Stephen had said he was a Catholic, but relics and incorruptibles were a step over the line for all but the most fundamental.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Almost," Father Thomas whispered. "Sister Mary Agnes was decapitated by a Muslim invader in 1632, for refusing to denounce Christ. Even as her head rolled away it kept mouthing praises to Jesus." Overwhelmed, Father Thomas gently placed the head on the linen-covered cart they'd brought for it. The state of the head was miraculous; not only was it dry and undecayed, it smelled faintly of hyacinths. Father Thomas had been skeptical of the tales of incorruptible saints -- he was cynic enough to know his own church wasn't above the occasional trick to sway the faithful -- but here was proof, taken directly from the vault where it had lain for four hundred years, undisturbed in darkness and silence. Other than some drying and the slightest shriveling, the head could almost have been placed there last week.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"And the body?" Stephen asked, crouching for a closer look but still maintaining a distance, though now possibly more out of reverence than repulsion.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Cast into flames. The head would have been, too, but a few of Sister Mary Agnes's sister nuns gathered it up and made away with it. They were convinced she was a saint, and not just a martyr, for the way the head kept praying even after death. They hid it in the wall here while the convent was still under construction. And it's been unseen ever since." Father Thomas leaned against the wall beside the hole they'd taken it from. Only the most modern sounding equipment had determined the existence of the cavity. Until then he'd almost been convinced that the story of the head of Mary Agnes was only a legend.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And here she was. He'd been expecting, at best, a mummy, something they'd have to play up a great deal, but this was more than enough proof of incorruptibility. And incorruptibles were rare. Even most saints had eventually turned to dust, leaving a relic or two at best, maybe a tooth or finger bone or lock of hair. You were very lucky if you got something like Saint Bernadette, or the vial of blood of Januarius.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">But here she was. Mary Agnes. Eyes closed as though asleep. Mouth slack, drawn back only slightly over the teeth, greying hair clipped short but lush, clean. The stump of the neck was dark with blood that had dried to something like black glass. Tiny flakes of it were caught in the cotton of his gloves. He wondered if water might make them turn red and flow again. It certainly seemed possible. What should have been only dust and bone, flowing and red. A miracle.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And they needed one. Religion, in general, was losing its grip on society. What was left was becoming increasingly radicalized and hardened, entangled with politics that often contradicted the teachings of Christ and thus unattractive to those who just wanted to live a good life. The Catholic church, in particular, had just been recovering from the stigma of child molestation, but in recent months another conspiracy had been uncovered, throwing the church into desperation. He hated to think of the faith in terms of marketing, but in truth, the church was in desperate need of a public relations boost, of rebranding. Media attention needed to be turned in a more positive direction.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Sister Mary Agnes was the perfect means to that end. The story, with its severed head as a centerpiece, was lurid enough to draw headlines all over the world. And the preserved state of the head was a legitimate miracle that would provoke much discussion. And canonizing a new saint was always an event, and a female would make the church seem progressive and modern. Sister Mary Agnes was certainly deserving, with a grisly-yet-inspirational story that few would be able to ignore.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The word "godsend" gets thrown around so much it's practically used in vain, Father Thomas thought, but that was certainly what this head was.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">He looked at the head, a peaceful sleeper, who might at any moment open her eyes, it seemed. Even in death, she had a quiet beauty. She hadn't been a young woman, but you could tell, in younger years, she'd been a thing to see. Noting the beauty of the head would not hurt. The world would want to see it and, placed in a proper setting, the gruesome nature of what it was could be minimized.</span></span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Affectionately he stroked the head's hair. She would be pleased, he thought, to still be serving the church nearly four centuries after martyrdom.</span></span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Shall I brick it back up?" Stephen asked.</span></span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"No, leave it for the while. It should be photographed. News crew will still want to film it."</span></span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">He shrugged. "Okay, I guess so. It's amazing, how intact it is. Still gives me the creeps, though, if that's not blasphemous to say."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Father Thomas laughed. "No, it's not blasphemous. And there's no way a severed head, even one of a saint, won't be a little creepy."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Carefully, he and the Bishops rolled the cart back to their offices. Now that they knew what they had, a special glass case would have to be prepared. Later, they'd even have to contact the Pope.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">* * *</span></span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The phone rang at just past 3 a.m. Father Thomas broke away from sleep and fumbled to pick it up.</span></span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It was Frances, his Bishop. He sounded shaken, could barely find his voice. "Tom... Tom, it's talking."</span></span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"What's talking?" Father Thomas yawned, trying to force himself awake.</span></span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"The head. Sister Mary Agnes. She's... she's </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">screaming</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">, actually."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Father Thomas wanted to laugh. Frank had a sense of humor, but this was bizarre for him, and in bad taste. "What do you mean, she's screaming?"</span></span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Exactly what I said. The head is screaming."</span></span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Now, Frank..."</span></span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"I know, it sounds crazy, it </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">is</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> crazy, but I've seen it."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Father Thomas sat on the edge of the bed, wondering if he was dreaming. He must be. He sighed. "Okay, I'll play along. So, what is she screaming?"</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"I can only make out a word here and there. It's mostly just screaming, no words. The rest is Latin, an old dialect, I'm not good in it. Something about rats, betrayal... I really can't make out much. It's horrific, Tom, I've never heard anything so </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">horrific.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Father Thomas rubbed his face. "I'll be down there. Look up the number for Father Alphonse. He's an expert in seventeenth-century Latin. Don't call him yet, though. I want to see this and make sure it's something real, something worth involving him. Frank, this is crazy."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"I'm not arguing otherwise. But I've </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">seen</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> it! Heard it. And I wish I never had."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Father Thomas sighed. "I'll be there shortly. And Frank -- film it in case it stops."</span></span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"We're already doing that. See you."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Yeah." Father Thomas ended the call and got up and dressed, mechanically, his mind overwhelmed with what he might be about to see.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">* * *</span></span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Father Thomas, for one brief year of his youth, had flirted with a drinking problem. For the first time since entering the seminary he missed those days. Irish whiskey, that's what he wanted. A bottle. Throw the cap away, he wouldn't need it again, not after what he'd seen.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It was more miraculous than ever... and less helpful. It wasn't inspiring, it was frightening. Terrifying. The most nightmarish thing he'd ever seen, and now he didn't know what to think about the world.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">He could still hear it, behind the door, far down the hallway. His hands were trembling, remembering the sight of the head, on a stainless steel laboratory tray, screaming. The voice was a squeak, mingled with a crow's call, a buzz-saw blade cutting into his mind with its supernatural absurdity.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">He'd made out a few words in Latin, but they made no sense. Oceans and rivers of rats, rains of rot, scourging, blood, rape, a grand deceit. Was this a prophecy for the Earth? The form Armageddon would take? Dear God, he prayed not.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">He'd given word to summon Father Alphonse, out of everyone he knew the most likely to be able to translate. Cameras had been mounted to record every moment of the head's screaming in case it stopped. So far it showed no signs of doing so, however. To call it distressed was a huge understatement. The head was frantic.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Reportedly it had started by moving its lips and mouthing words, and gradually had found its voice, lost for four centuries. The eyes, too, were open now, startlingly wide, pale silvery gray like the side of a fish.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It looked anything but holy.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Bishop Frances joined him in the hallway, his eyes stunned. He glanced at Father Thomas. "What are we going to do, Tom?" he asked.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Father Thomas spread his hands and shrugged. "I have no idea. I fear it's something Apocalyptic. One thing's for certain; we finally have undeniable proof of the divine. Or perhaps the diabolical. But something beyond our world. I've always wanted that, but now that it's come, in this form... it terrifies me."</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"I wonder what to do with the head. She seems to be suffering. Driven mad with suffering. We can't leave her that way."</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Father Thomas rubbed his face. "I have no idea what to do about any of this. It's... it's too much. All I know to do is wait for Father Alphonse. Maybe he can converse with the thing... with Sister Mary Agnes. Maybe she can tell us what to do. I've never seen anything like this. I'm at a loss."</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"I wish we'd left her in the wall," Bishop Frances said. "I can't imagine this ends well."</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Father Thomas shook his head. Surely, it could not.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">* * *</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Father Alphonse had come in on an early flight, and he'd gone into the room with the head of Sister Mary Agnes already pale and shaking. Now, three hours later, he came out considerably worse. He scurried down the hallway to Father Thomas's office, refusing to slow down until they couldn't hear the head's screams, which had only grown louder and more frantic as time wore on.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">He dropped into a chair and mopped at his sweat as Father Thomas and Bishop Frances joined him and locked the door, as he requested.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Well, could you make sense of what she was saying?" Father Thomas asked, sitting behind his desk.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Father Alphonse nodded. "She has a message for us. She's seen beyond death and is reporting back." He wiped his face, gone nearly as white as the handkerchief he used. Father Thomas waited, displaying more patience than he felt. The state of Father Alphonse frightened him. He'd never seen a man so shaken, and Father Alphonse was one of the bravest men he'd ever met, having served as a medic in several wars. He was anxious to hear what he had to say, but filled with a quivering dread.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"She... she spoke of people being driven naked through a valley of thorns, burning hot, over hundreds of miles, through poisonous winds that festered their wounds, made them rot and stink and seep. Pestilential rains of rotting flesh, rotten to liquid slime, formed lakes, and all about were fevers and plagues, bringing miseries tenfold the worst found on Earth. There are rivers made of vermin instead of water, flowing into a vast ocean of swollen, pustulent rats, all frantically biting. People are thrown in and made to swim for the amusement of a bloody smiling king, who is mad. All around him is the worst, vilest debauchery, perversions, hideous tortures, mass rapes. Skinless beings are rolled in salt and raped by beasts. They all starve and there is nothing to eat but each other. They’re maddened by thirst that’s never quenched. Blood flows everywhere and the air is constantly sliced by metal-barbed whips. And over it all the bloody smiling king laughs, laughs at the great trick he's played on mankind, the great betrayal, the monstrous deceit. He roars with laughter, crazed with the success of his trickery. It's all a trap of torment and sickness with no escape, miseries a thousandfold worse than anything dreamed of on Earth. The things she described... I can't repeat them all... I felt my mind twisting, souring, just from hearing them. And she witnessed them all, and came back to warn us all of the trickery, the deceit, the madness and chaos." He wiped his face again.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Father Thomas looked at Bishop Frances and back to the trembling Father Alphonse. "It's horrible, but, at least we're being given warning," he said. "We can get the word out, and now we have proof. Thanks to Sister Mary Agnes's miracle, we can conclusively warn mankind that, at all costs, they must avoid the terrors of Hell."</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">"Hell?" Father Alphonse snapped, looking at Father Thomas, his eyes pale and bright with shock. "</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Hell?</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> No, Thomas, not Hell... </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">it's Heaven she's describing!" </span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><br /></span></span><br />
<h3>
<span style="color: white;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">THE END</span></b></span></span></span></h3>
Zwolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02364540771153476179noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-83706886264776094372017-03-13T07:53:00.002-05:002017-03-13T07:56:28.506-05:00Out By The TurbinesHorror story time again. I've been writing so many of them lately that if I waited for Halloween to post them all, it'd be overkill... and nobody wants that. So, I'll parcel them out for a while. I think this one's pretty scary, but, as always, you'll be the judge of that. Any feedback would be more than welcome.<br />
<br />
And, if you liked this (or didn't like it but want to try another), we have a lot of fiction on this blog, so here's a handy table of contents to help you find it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
KickerOfElves:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/rigor-mortis.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Rigor Mortis</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/men-with-knives.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Men With Knives</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Profbolt:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/08/east-of-rulesville-guest-short-story.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">East of Rulesville</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My stuff:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/10/pray-for-agatha-burning-in-hell.html" target="_blank">Pray For Agatha, Burning In Hell </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-night-is-filled-with-maniacs.html">The Night Is Filled With Maniacs </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/03/gone-shootin.html" target="_blank">Gone Shootin' </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/creak.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Creak</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/shrouded-in-rain.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shrouded In Rain </span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2013/11/bodies-not-recovered.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Bodies Not Recovered</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/10/scribblebones.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scribblebones</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/long-tall-sally.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Long Tall Sally</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/shik-chuff.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shik-Chuff</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/11/damp-basements-of-heaven.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">The Damp Basements of Heaven</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2010/10/up-stairs-where-windows-are-painted.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Up The Stairs Where The Windows Are Painted Black</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/665-1.html" target="_blank">665+1 </a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
And <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/10/pleasant-dreams.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">little descriptions of actual nightmares I’ve had</span></a></div>
<br />
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Closing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Message Header"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Salutation"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Date"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Block Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Hyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="FollowedHyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Document Map"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Plain Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="E-mail Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Top of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Bottom of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal (Web)"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Acronym"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Cite"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Code"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Definition"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Keyboard"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Preformatted"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Sample"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Typewriter"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Variable"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal Table"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation subject"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="No List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Contemporary"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Elegant"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Professional"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Balloon Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Theme"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" QFormat="true"
Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="List Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="List Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="List Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
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<br />
<h2 class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>OUT
BY THE TURBINES</h2>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack was trying not to be mad at
Derek, even though it was entirely Derek’s fault that they were in this
trouble, and it was starting to look like big trouble indeed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After walking for over an hour they were only
in a different part of no-place, which still looked like the first part: Mississippi
Primeval, a back road through deep woods on a forgotten place in the map.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During the whole trudge, not one car had
passed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The road was so lonesome they
hadn't even seen any roadkill, and every other highway in the state was a
meat-market of possums and raccoons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At
this point Jack would even welcome a squashed skunk, just as a sign that the
road got traffic occasionally.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If they'd stuck to the main
highway, there'd be cars passing constantly, and gas stations and convenience
stores, all kinds of help and seldom more than fifty yards away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But Derek had declared "I'm from around
here" and taken them through the backroads, telling Jack (who'd moved here
a year ago from Kansas and was deemed to require educating) that he'd show him
some of the "real Mississippi."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then Derek's car had broken down and Jack had decided that since he'd
already been to a college football game and didn't care about church, he'd seen
more of the "real Mississippi" than he cared to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was getting tired, not in proper shape for
this kind of walking, and there seemed plenty more to come.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"There's a place somewhere
down here, I know there is," Derek said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"I used to buy <i>Famous Monsters</i> there when I was a kid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's just an old country store but the guy
who ran it was a weirdo, stocked all the cool comics and stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ahead of his time, really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rode a motorcycle and looked like one of the
Hells Angels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That scared the piss out
of people in the 70's.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The South was by
no means used to that kind of shit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
was super nice, though, so people got over it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Mostly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wouldn't nobody fuck
with him, in any case.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They thought if
he didn't deal you out his damnself, he might make a phone call and fill the
streets with barbarian hordes."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"So the place was open in
the '70's," Jack said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"What
makes you think it'll still be open?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"The eternal springiness of
hope!" Derek grinned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Naw, I
don't know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was still open when I was
through here seven, eight years ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>New
management, I think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Didn't see the
biker dude around anywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably in
a nursing home, if he ain't dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope
he ain’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Weird</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Witches’ Tales</i>
from that guy, totally warped my childhood in the right way."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack grunted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He felt too old to be stranded and walking
down a backroad, and Derek was about ten years older than him. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The walking didn't seem to bother him as
much, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing about this seemed
to bother Derek as much, and that bothered the hell out of Jack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course Derek hadn't meant for his car to
break down, but Jack couldn't keep anger from creeping in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Usually Derek's easy-going nature was a good
feature, but now it was irritating, as was his goofy appearance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was a chunky little guy with thinning hair
-- what he had left was so messy that more baldness could only be of benefit --
slightly buggy eyes, and a toothy jackass grin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That grin didn't know when to stop, and Jack
wanted to punch it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Since he wasn't really much of a
punching kind of guy, he kept walking instead.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Around a curve they found the
country store.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Much of it had been
claimed by kudzu, and a tree as thick as a barrel was lying on the rest of
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only window left intact sported
a sign advertising a kind of Pepsi they'd quit making at least five years
ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone had made off with the gas
pumps, and small trees were reclaiming the parking lot.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Well, shit," Derek
said, slapping his thighs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He went and
checked the pay phone at the side of the building, just out of stubbornness,
but it didn't even have a receiver anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He sat down on the intact part of the porch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack sat down beside him, and they listened
to the insects churr-churr-churr in the woods for a while.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I sure am sorry about
this," Derek finally said, picking up a bit of gravel and flinging it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Hell, you didn't
know," Jack said, being a bit more charitable than he really felt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wasn't comfortable really getting pissed
off at Derek; he was a guy he was friendly with at work, not a close
buddy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack still didn't know many local
people to hang out with, so, since he and Derek shared an interest in archaeology,
a road trip to an Indian artifact exhibit in Jackson had seemed like a good
road trip for them, a chance to do some bonding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, up until Derek's old Saturn made those
klunking noises in the middle of no-damn-where, it had been.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Derek sighed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I got that car tuned up, like, two
months ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, I got lazy about
charging my cell phone, that's fully on my dumb ass, but that car <i>should</i>
have been fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shit."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Derek kicked at the dirt, then scowled at
the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack scowled, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The insects kept going, repetitive as a
needle digging at the end of a record.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The air was hot, sticky, and smelled green, full of sap.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Derek pointed at a power line
showing above the trees, one of the big metal ones that looked like the
headless skeleton of a robot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"You
know, rather than walking on the road, which goes on like another twenty miles
or so before it links to the main highway, it might be a better idea to follow
those power lines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There's a community
off that way just four, five miles or so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And it passes some farms along the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Be a lot quicker finding help."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Out through the
woods?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Most of it's going to be
fields.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They don't put those turbines
through the woods much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gotta keep them
clear so some storm won't... "<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>he pointed at the tree that had crushed the
store behind them -- "... do that to them."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Turbines?" Jack
asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Those tower things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Isn't that what they're called?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Guess not... turbines are like in a dam or
whatever, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Generators.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that's what we always called the towers
when we were kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Used to play around
'em, even though you're not supposed to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Pretended they were MechaGodzilla.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Tried climbing 'em.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you tap
the guy wires that anchor them with a wrench or something it sounds like a ray
gun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Buh-TOING!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Think they even used that sound for the laser
pistols in <i>Star Wars</i>."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
squinted at the tower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Hell, I
lived around here, might have played on the same ones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can't be far to a town that way."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"You really think it'll be
quicker than sticking to the road?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Oh yeah, like four, five
times."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He gestured at the
tower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I mean, all that power,
right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They don't run those wires off
to noplace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They're there 'cuz somebody
needs that much juice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All kinds of
people that way, with phones, tow trucks, beer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>God damn I could use a beer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Forget the glass, just serve it up in a child's wading pool, let me dive
in with my mouth open, and if I look like I'm drowning tell the lifeguard to
mind his own business."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wiped his
sweaty face and shook his head.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Sure there's not, I dunno,
some <i>Deliverance</i> guys out there?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jack laughed, looking at the woods.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Derek snorted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Oh, probably a few, but don't worry,
they'll just fuck us in the ass and let us go."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Oh, is that all?"
Jack laughed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Yep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Mississippi that's called 'lost traveler
tax.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Traditional as blues, barbeque,
institutional racism, and voting against your own interests."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"That popular, huh?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well then," Jack said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"If you're sure you know what you're doing."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Hey, my judgment's served
us well so far today, hasn't it?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Derek said, then pointed at him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Don't answer that."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
snorted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Seriously, it'll be
fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean, we can stick to the road
if you want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Be less weeds but five
times the walk."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I keep thinking that
somebody'll surely drive by."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Might could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably won't stop, though. Would you stop
for a couple fellas way out here?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Shiiiiit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You'd think they'd
charge you lost traveler tax!"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Ain't much reason to
take this road unless you like looking at woods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which, unfortunately for the both of us, I
do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since that new interstate got laid
out twenty years back this highway's written off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They maintain it a little as a route in case
there's a forest fire or something, but mostly it's forgotten.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You turn onto it, your GPS lady says, 'the
fuck you doin'?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack laughed and was surprised
he could find it funny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it was hard
to stay mad at Derek, the goof.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Okay, I guess the power line idea is worth a try.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm not sure it's in me to walk twenty
miles."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Me either, to tell you the
truth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyway, following the turbines
will give you a chance to see more of the real Mississippi."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Ah, god, don't tell me
that."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Derek made a face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Yeah, that didn't work out so hot last
time, did it?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He stood up, and
Jack joined him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Hot enough for me,"
Jack said, wiping his face.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I know what you mean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still and all, the Department of Tourism's
gonna be throwing darts at my picture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Damn, I'm sorry I got us into this, man, you just don't know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm starting to even think it's just possible
that the real Mississippi sucks."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Derek shrugged and they started
walking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"It is some beautiful
country, I'll give it that much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do
have one question, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the real
Mississippi involves so much walking, how come everybody from here's so damn
fat?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Derek laughed hard, a sound
between a wheeze and a pig squeal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Usually it don't.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Usually
we got four wheelers and Rascal scooters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And we mostly use 'em to drive from pie to pie."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They found a gap in the woods and left the
highway to go into it, picking their way through the underbrush until they were
under the electrical tower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack thought
he could hear a hum coming from it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Derek whacked one of the guy wires with a branch, and a twangy zing
vibrated in the air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"See?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Works even better if you hit it with
something metal."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"That's a weird sound, all
right," Jack admitted, staring up at the structure, feeling dizzy at the
height of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>About fifty yards away
through the trees he could see another.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"That's the sound of the
real Mississippi," Derek said, winking a buggy eye and grinning, looking
like some mischievous gnome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack
snorted and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>shook his head as they
walked toward the next one.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Hanging from a bush at its base
was what looked like a long, translucent corn husk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Derek picked it up and displayed it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Shed snake skin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ain't it a beauty?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Nope," Jack
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I don't see any beauty in a
sign that says there are big snakes around here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jesus, dude, what are you leading me
into?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Hey, it's the woods, of
course there's snakes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You ain't in
Kansas anymore, Dorothy!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don't
worry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of 'em ain't poison, and they
all slither away when they hear us coming, anyhow."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"And the poisonous ones
warn you by rattling, right?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Cottonmouths don't.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That's mostly what we got around here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The cottonmouth water moccasin, pride of the
South.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They don't give you a warning,
but if we see one, I will, by shitting enough bricks to build a toolshed."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"If I get bit you're
sucking out the poison."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Maybe."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Derek rolled his eyes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Hope it bites me right on
the dick," Jack said, bending a shrub over so he could step over it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Then you gone die,"
Derek said, pointing, and they both laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He let the snake skin trail away like a streamer and they kept
walking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The woods opened up into a
meadow, the electrical towers marching across it like a robot army.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"They look kind of like
pictographs, don't they?" Jack said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Almost like some of the stuff we saw scratched on the Indian
pottery today."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"A little, yeah,"
Derek said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Or like those stick
figures from <i>Blair Witch Project</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That's what I first thought of when I saw those things in the
movie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turbines."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack nodded, staring up at the
wires, feeling their hum, wondering if it was only his imagination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were strangely intimidating things,
trailing off into the horizon, pipelining high-voltage death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Everything we use, </i>Jack thought, <i>runs
on something lethal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And these monsters delivered it, like a safari
through the jungle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was still a long walk,
wherever they were going.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The walk carried them past the
remains of an old farm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Barn and house
were both derelict and Derek suggested exploring, but Jack wanted to conserve
their energy for walking to civilization, and the day was getting late.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Besides, if there were snakes anywhere,
they'd be in that nightmarish house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Derek said something about the "real Mississippi" but didn't
push it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Under an electrical tower near
the farmhouse they found a flat slab of concrete, and, on top of it, a dead
possum nailed to a board.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone had
used blood to draw strange jaggedy things on the slab around it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Weird letters and crude drawings - some
childishly pornographic -- had been smeared onto the metal legs of the tower.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Jesus, what do you make of
that?" Jack asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Derek shrugged, looking
around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Sick-minded kids, I'd
guess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Entertainment's hard to come by
out in the country."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"In what way is <i>that</i>
entertaining?" Jack asked, staring at the possum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It looked like it had met Jack the Ripper;
someone had really opened it up and played around inside.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"You askin' the wrong guy,
I'm Episcopalian."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"That's what it looks like,
some religious ritual," Jack said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Some primitive rite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are there
cults out here?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Derek winced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"You always hear about 'em, but I don't
know what to believe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Religious folks
-- and every-damn-body here is religious, you may have noticed --<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>are jealously paranoid about any other
beliefs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe because they know so well
the head-fuck that organized beliefs can do, brainwashing-wise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ever tried reasoning with a Baptist?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, don't.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rumors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Somebody's worshiping the devil, or Sharia law is coming to Memphis any
day now, or some other crazy pigshit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It's fear of competition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
got a monopoly and want to keep it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Want
the truth?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And don't tell nobody I said
this 'cuz they'll like to hang me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They're <i>all </i>cults.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
get enough believers you just don't have to admit it anymore."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He frowned down at the possum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I don't know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anything's possible out in the boonies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I figure bored kids with a Slayer CD,
though."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Small comfort," Jack
said, squinting at some of the painted pictures as they walked on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe they were fertility symbols, or just
expressions of a warped and dirty mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Violence and sex blended far too easily, and for many the lines blurred.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"On the plus side,"
Derek said, "it proves that we're getting nearer population."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Now that's glass-half-full!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'd just as soon not meet any of the
population that does <i>that."</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"See if I try brightening
your day again."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mischievous gnome.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Speaking of brightness,
it's getting kind of late.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What happens
if we don't find anyplace before it gets dark?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Derek motorboated his lips and
waved dismissively. "We'll get to town way before sundown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That's hours off yet."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I hope so."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They walked on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The electrical towers went through another
patch of woods, then opened into another large meadow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All around them the insects kept up their
maddening churr-churr-churr, which Jack was starting to associate with the hum
of the power lines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The place felt like
nowhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack was entirely unsure they'd
ever get anywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was too tired to
be mad at Derek, who, after all, was in the same fix he was, but these fields
were as lonesome as any place Jack had ever been.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It felt otherworldly, and he wondered if they
shouldn't have stayed on the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cars
were probably just whizzing by now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Another half mile or so they
found another slab of concrete in the middle of a field, with flies boiling
over a frightening amount of blood that had been spilled on it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A human figure formed of tied-up rags and
soaked in blood lay in the center of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At first Jack thought it was a fetus, until Derek poked it around with a
stick and he saw the knots.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Okay, maybe it is a
cult," was all Derek had to say.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"That's fairly fresh,"
Jack said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Like, maybe last
night?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can smell that blood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And look, they had a fire."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He kicked at some ashes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Another over here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And here," Derek said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He circled, finding five small fires, all
cold but fresh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The slab was in the
center of them, and the grass was flattened, danced upon.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Five points, like a
pentagram," Jack said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"And
all that blood!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What do you think they
killed?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Probably from a
deer," Derek said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Probably
deer hunters doing some ritual to bring luck to the hunt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some deer camps do weird shit."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"<i>This</i>
weird?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack crouched and poked at
the rag figure with a stick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"From
a society overburdened with Baptists?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Derek shook his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"That Jesus shit goes on the shelf real
quick when it comes to hunting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've
seen some primitive shit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First deer you
kill, your buddies will paint your face with blood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You'd think it was the stone age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And all that preserving of body parts and
hanging 'em on the wall like relics from some saint.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They love blood anyway, religions do, all
those hymns about it, all the paintings, that Mel Gibson movie that looked like
all the good parts from the <i>Friday the 13th </i>series edited together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So they're all too happy to call time-out in the Baptist game if they
get real blood to play in."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack stared off at the power
lines, vanishing into the horizon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Let's get out of here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
don't like this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My skin is
crawling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean, maybe this is 'real
Mississippi' to you, but back up in Kansas this shit would get you sent to an
asylum to be evaluated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You'd get your
shoelaces taken from you for this kind of thing."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Derek waved his hands and wagged
his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"This ain't no
Mississippi tradition I'm familiar with."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He kicked at the grass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I'd
feel better if I saw a bunch of beer cans around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If people weren't drinking, it makes them
look more serious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beer would excuse
just about anything, in the Mississippi I know."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack shook his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"There's not enough beer in the world to
make this not look far-gone batshit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Let's get out of here."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I'm wit'cha," Derek
said, and despite being tired and thirsty, they started wading faster through
the endless sea of weeds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack looked
around for houses but there was nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kudzu had swallowed something that might have been a shed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack wondered if someone might be waiting
inside it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The west was starting to show
sunset colors, purple and orange, when they found the hatchet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was hooked over one of the
supports on one of the towers, and it was rusty and crusted with blood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They might have passed it all off as rust and
dismissed it as a lineman's lost tool, but there was hair stuck to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The hair ended in a dime-sized chip of bone
and scalp.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"That's human," Jack
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Nothing else has hair that
long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That's a piece of somebody's
head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Derek, we've got to get out of
here!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where's the fucking town,
huh?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where's the 'community'?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This isn't normal, Derek!"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I'm not saying it is,
dude," Derek said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I'm as
freaked out about it as you are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Look,
the town's got to be close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We've gone,
what, three, four miles?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I estimate five or six,
and I see no sign of anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's like
the post-apocalypse out here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There's
nothing!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing but psychos around,
somewhere."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He stared into the
forests crowding the strip of meadow, dark, thick, where anyone could be lurking
and watching, then looked back to the west, where the sun would be sinking in
an hour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"When it gets dark, we're
not going to be able to see to walk through these weeds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then what?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Come on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We'll be in town by then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I'll be buying you beers."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Like hell we will.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don't believe it anymore!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I'm not fucking drinking fucking beers,
I'm calling cops!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That's a piece of somebody's
<i>head! </i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There's only really one way
to get that!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somebody died out
here!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is a crime scene, Derek!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Miles of it!"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Come on."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Derek started walking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Veins and arteries lead to
organs."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He waved a hand at the
wires overhead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"We're walking
through a big monster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We'll get to the
heart if we just shut the hell up and keep going."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack followed, leaving behind
the murder weapon, hanging on the tower like a talisman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe they were being warned that they were
on the cult's turf, but a warning they couldn't take served little purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack wanted to run and might have overcome
his weariness and done so if there were anywhere to run to, but he no longer
believed these power lines led to a town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Logically, the power had to be going somewhere, but logic no longer felt
like a factor in this place.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The insects were growing louder
as darkness approached, the thrum of some huge machine that was all around you
but which you could never find.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack
could understand how that noise, out in all this lonesome country, could drive
people insane enough to form a cult.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Derek was quiet and looked grim,
and Jack wondered if he was mad at him now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Oh, that'd just be hilarious if Derek was mad at him!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was suspecting that Derek had no more
idea where he was going than he did, so if it came to a confrontation he'd
punch Derek in the face and walk away.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He looked around in the
gathering twilight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As it grew darker
the lights of any houses that might be around would start shining through the
trees, but Jack wasn't sure he'd want to approach them anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There could be a cultist living there, and now
that they knew the rites weren't limited to just possums, avoiding isolated
houses seemed the wisest policy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And they <i>were</i> going to be
out here after dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was obvious
now, from the way the sunset was spreading itself before them, spectacular, fluorescent
red-orange and lavender-to-purple in the clouds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it didn't mean what it meant, it would be
one of the most beautiful sunsets Jack had ever seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now all it gave him was terror and a
tightening feeling of dread in his chest.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>God, he was tired. And thirsty.
And soon they'd be stumbling along through the weeds, blind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And snakes were no longer the most dangerous
things out here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked up at the
moon, already starting to glow against the darkening sky.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was full, which meant at least it would
give them more light, but what else might it mean?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He looked over at Derek, who was
still plodding along, staring straight ahead, no longer looking like a happy
gnome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Good, </i>Jack thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>If you weren't miserable too I think I'd
kill you</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He thought of saying
something just to break the uncomfortable silence but decided, no, let it
stay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let them both just listen to the
maddening whir of the insects and wait for worse sounds, like someone stepping
on a twig or creeping through grass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Don't let anything interrupt Derek's guilt and dread.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Idiot.</i> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They were tired, but there was
always another tower in the distance to walk toward, like a goalpost in some
game they were being forced to play even though they didn't know the rules.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They passed another electrical
tower, with oddly-knotted rag-shapes dangling from the guy wires, old and
rotten.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was light enough to show
them strange alphabets and drawings of organs, sexual and otherwise, on the
poles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone had used magic markers
this time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Were they worshiping the
"turbines" themselves, or were they just a convenient place to put
some graffiti?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack imagined there'd be
similar things carved on trees in the deep woods that surrounded them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The electrical towers, he noticed, stood in
an alley amidst the trees.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before they'd
stood them up, bulldozers had rolled through and scoured the earth clean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And every year or so the state probably sent
a crew through to bush-hog the area and keep it clear, maintaining the sacred
site of their power-giving totems.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The stars were coming out past
the wires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And they were still
nowhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The woods opened to meadow
again, then closed back to woods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had
to use the fading light to help each other across a red-clay-and-limestone
ditch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack found a fossil shell that
would normally have interested him but now was just something he'd have to keep
up with, so he left it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He slapped at
ants on his leg, got a couple of fire ant bites for his trouble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Sure, why not?</i> he thought.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And then it was dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The moon, it turned out, wasn't much help at
all, and it was too dark to be walking but, knowing what had happened around
here, they stumbled onward, anyway, trying to feel their way to the next
electrical tower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were little
lights, high on the towers, but they lit nothing, just indicated the tower was
there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They glowed like animal eyes,
giant cats watching scurrying mice in the grass.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The sense of being nowhere grew
even more oppressive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sound of the
day insects changed to a deeper but no less disturbing throb of night insects.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then there was another
noise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A <i>buh-TWOING!</i> like a ray
gun from the movies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was more
impressive than when Derek had tapped it with a stick; it really did work
better when you hit it with something metal.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They stopped and crouched down
in the weeds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack looked at Derek but
couldn't see him, only a vague dark shape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The <i>twoing</i> had come from in front of them, but now was answered
by a more distant one from behind.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Oh shit," Jack
whispered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Yeah," Derek
breathed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"What do we do?" Jack
asked, feeling panic starting to grip him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I don't know," Derek
whispered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Just stay still,
quiet."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>CHOOM!</i> from out of the
night ahead of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Buh-TWOING!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>CHOOM!</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jack looked at the huge metal skeleton against the sky, twenty yards
ahead of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He couldn't see anyone
standing under it but they were there, with something metal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another hatchet, probably.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Buh-twoing</i> from the darkness behind
them, and another, farther down the line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><i>Choom, choom.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Grass
rustled not far away, and there was no wind.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He held his breath and crouched
even lower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>God, god.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Guy wires twoinged far and wee,
more in the distance ahead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>God, how
many were there?</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Insects in the
woods went silent, the way they did when someone was near.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack could see nothing but felt figures
closing in from all sides.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As loathsome as it had been,
dangling that shred of skull and scalp, he wished he'd taken that hatchet
they'd seen earlier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had nothing to
fight with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not even a pocketknife.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All he had were his house keys and he didn't
want to take them out because they might jingle.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He could barely make out the
shape of Derek a few feet away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At
least, he hoped it was Derek.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It could
be anybody.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The wires made their music
again, call and response across the long meadow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>They must know we're here</i>, Jack
thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>They've probably been
watching us walk for hours, hiding in the woods.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A bug was crawling on him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He just let it go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He hated bugs but amidst this fear it barely
registered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Grass was rustling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack fought the impulse to run only because
there was nowhere to go.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suddenly the pounding on the
wires started again, rapid, all across the meadow, <i>CHOOM-CHOOM-CHOOM </i>like
a laser battle, accompanied by insane howling that made Jack's heart feel like
it was going to seize up in his chest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The shape that was Derek bolted and ran in panic, and Jack hissed
"Hey!" after him but stayed put.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He wanted to follow, but it seemed a bad idea, and the howls turned into
something like a screaming laugh, echoing across the meadow and from the
woods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A rebel yell?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>he wondered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Whatever it was, it was the most horrifying sound he'd ever heard, a
thing from a fever dream.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Everywhere, they were
everywhere.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Howling because they
knew no one was coming to stop them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They could make all the noise they wanted, out by the turbines.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack crawled through the grass,
barely managing to breathe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His life, he
was sure, was down to a matter of unpleasant minutes now and he'd almost consider
just surrendering and getting it over with but he couldn't be sure they'd
finish him quickly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe he could die
fighting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A hatchet in the head, he
could bear that, but what happened before that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Was that the end of something that had lasted hours?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They rustled in the grass and
yipped at each other across the field, a degenerate sound, brewed far from
civilization's reach, out in the nowhere where the headless robots marched, the
lonely place where society's mundane functions went ignored by those who took
them for granted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was alone with
them now; they probably had Derek, although he'd heard no screaming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe Derek had gotten away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe it was safer to hide in the woods.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack peeked above the weeds and
watched.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tops of the weeds looked
like a sea of silver static in the moonlight, barely stirring in the
breeze.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He thought he could make out a
shape here, movement there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything
was quiet again; they were listening, waiting.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The woods weren't far.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Twenty yards, maybe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
could run there and be harder to find.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Maybe he coudl find some dark place under the brush and wait until
sunrise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe it was a plan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was certainly no future in hiding in
the grass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That would buy him a few
minutes at best.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were closing in.</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He crawled toward the woods and
then bolted for them.</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When he got into the trees he
realized immediately it was a mistake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was pitch black here; he was as good as blind, and moving was
impossible in all the thick branches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If
he could move at all, it'd make a lot of noise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They'd hear it and hunt him down.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now they were being so silent he
almost wondered if they were there at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The only thing he could hear was his own heart, like a tribal drum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could see it, a strobe of panicked blood
pressure vibing in his eyes, making its own light.</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He tried creeping deeper into
the woods, moving very slowly, feeling his way and trying to avoid anything
that'd make a sound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He made it a couple
of yards before snapping a twig and freezing in place.</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Jack?" Derek
whispered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was a few feet to the
right, Jack judged. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Derek?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God, man, I thought maybe they'd caught
you!" he hissed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He reached out and
felt Derek take his arm.</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"They did," Derek
said, too loud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"That's when they
gave me this."</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Something viciously chopped into
the side of Jack's knee, metal meeting bone with a loud clank.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pain felt like the strike of a lightning
bolt and Jack dropped, yelping in pain.</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Real sorry about this,
Jack," Derek said, grabbing one of his arms while someone in a hooded
burlap robe grabbed the other and dragged him out into the field.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The robe, Jack noticed, was covered with
weird painted symbols.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Others, wearing
similar robes, were standing in the moonlight, in the weeds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of them piled wood and started a fire,
and Jack was dragged toward it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of
the figures handed Derek a robe and he shrugged into it, and then Jack couldn't
tell him from any of the others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Sorry, dude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I told you
I was from around here."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The part
of his face not shadowed by the robe was smiling a crazy fanatic's smile, which
still had a hint of mischievous gnome's grin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The moonlight gleamed off of the hatchet Derek was holding,
distinguished from the others by Jack's blood flecking its blade.</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jack screamed as they dragged
him to the nearest turbine and lashed him to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then the sound of the hatchets pounding the
guy wires grew loud enough to drown out his screams.</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>For a while, anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Until the moon was right.</div>
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<h3 class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 6;"> </span>THE
END</h3>
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<br />Zwolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02364540771153476179noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-45094345764175571962017-01-19T11:21:00.002-06:002017-01-20T09:59:10.168-06:00For the Devil Holds Fast Your Eyelids<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Long time, no nothing. I
tried finishing a ghost story in time for Halloween but didn’t make it. So now
you’re stuck with this until the story's done. Enjoy!</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><b>The
VVitch</b></span></i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><b> (2016)</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk6cBvxpgVvz7GtJ_xePyYGt3LdXmWgSVV9v-eOf8_0cZZEGZo7YMpvThIypbtYkXML2YGKmAH1Demgbg8nI7L7BKl5ir4HyPqg2K1VwkA88LswiMYPThTNK1dT4zgkWmKdm7CUyJaqsM/s1600/black+phillip.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk6cBvxpgVvz7GtJ_xePyYGt3LdXmWgSVV9v-eOf8_0cZZEGZo7YMpvThIypbtYkXML2YGKmAH1Demgbg8nI7L7BKl5ir4HyPqg2K1VwkA88LswiMYPThTNK1dT4zgkWmKdm7CUyJaqsM/s320/black+phillip.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">I saw <i>The VVitch</i> in the cinema
(with Zwolf) the weekend it debuted and loved it, but we could easily tell that
it requires subtitles/captioning as the period dialect comes so thick and fast
that keeping up is difficult. Compounding this is the film’s lack of
explication (a good thing) and use of mostly natural lighting, which means,
because the setting is 1630s New England, it’s dark </span><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">a lot</b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">, even during daytime
scenes. So I’ve now watched </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The VVitch</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">
perhaps 10 times, and I consider it both a modern masterpiece and one of the
most satisfying films I’ve ever seen. The story revolves around a family of
English newcomers to the continent who are, as the movie opens, being cast out
of their village because the father is evidently too sternly religious even for
these presumed Puritans. The family then establishes their own homestead out in
the wilderness, where things go wrong immediately: their infant Sam disappears
(quite literally); the crops are shit, so they’re courting starvation; the hilarious, proto-ADD twins Jonas and Mercy irritate everyone and sing creepy
songs about Black Phillip, the family’s boisterous goat (above); the twins and older sister Thomasin persistently accuse each other of being witches; and so on. Then the
oldest son, Caleb, becomes lost in the woods, and when he returns, he’s changed
– “witched,” according to his mother </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">–</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"> and that’s when everything really
deteriorates. I don’t want to say much more because, if you haven’t seen this
movie, you deserve an unspoiled watch.
However, I’ll point out a delicious bit of IMDb trivia: “Although the film's
plot was intended to be taken literally, director Robert Eggers has spoken
about a few small hints him [sic] and the filmmakers left throughout the film
that one might interpret as reasoning behind the events, beyond the obvious
supernatural. For example, the rot on the corn is ergot – a hallucinogenic
fungus.” </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The VVitch</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">, in sum, is a
gritty, realistic, and frightening film, with several scenes that will haunt
you long after your viewing ends. I also highly recommend the soundtrack, which
I purchased within an hour of seeing the film for the first time. It’s
absolutely terrifying, right up there with Kronos Quartet and Glenn Branca’s </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Symphony No. 6</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"> for sheer hair-raising
power. (</span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The VVitch</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">, by the way, is
currently included with Amazon Prime.)</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><b>Some
Will Not Sleep: Selected Horrors</b></span></i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><b>
– Adam Nevill (2016)</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Boy, do we love Adam
Nevill on this site! Zwolf and I have sung the new master’s praises in several
earlier posts, with the loftiest aves devoted to his pitch-perfect novels </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The Ritual</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"> and </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Last Days</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">, though honestly anything Nevill writes is worth reading,
as this new collection of short fiction makes even clearer. </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Some Will Not Sleep</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"> brings together previously-published stories
from throughout Nevill’s career, so it’s worthwhile for the completionist fan
(e.g., me) regardless of literary quality, but fret not about that quality – all
of these tales are good, and several are superb enough to merit individual
mention/inspection. “The Original Occupant,” with its Briton searching for a
lost friend in Scandinavia (and finding......</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">yikes), is an obvious antecedent for </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The Ritual</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"> (Nevill himself says as much in the “About These
Horrors: Story Notes” section), and anything related to </span><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">that</b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"> book is going to be golden. “Yellow Teeth” is a longer story
whose length expertly builds both tension and your own disdain for Ewan, the antagonist roommate/squatter whose maddening audacity drives the plot toward a horrific
conclusion. Despite its flat, placeholder-ish title, “Pig Thing” is an
enormously effective example of short fiction’s compact power: stretched into a
novel, this story about a…well, yeah, about a pig thing stalking New
Zealand villagers might easily become pedestrian, but in short form it’s taut and merciless. “What God Hath Wrought?” is equal parts </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Blood Meridian, The Dark Tower</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">, and
Nevill’s own </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Last Days</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">, all in about 30 pages, and if this combination doesn’t get your attention, then you’re clearly visiting the wrong blog </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">–</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">here’s one story you’ll wish were longer. Although I'm not generally a fan of gore and the physically grotesque, the pseudo-post-apocalyptic futurism of "Doll Hands" is so intricately and cleverly detailed I didn't mind that I was reading a story centered on commercial cannibalism. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">And then there’s “The
Ancestors,” what I consider the best selection in the book. When I finished this one – think of
it as <i>Toy Story</i> plus Kôji Suzuki
minus any trace of novelty or mirth – I felt I’d been gut-punched by a gigantic
and sneaky fist. It does so much with so little (heh) in so few pages that I
didn’t anticipate the enormity of the ending, and I doubt you will either. In a
lifetime of reading, I can’t recall ever being this unsettled by a short story.
Such is the power of Nevill’s writing. Worth mentioning too are the hardcover’s
tactile pleasures: the dust-jacket texture, the luxurious paper stock, the
super-creepy cover art (pictured above), the recurring Ritual Limited
black-goatskull-of-the-woods sigil. So, yes, get this book. Your hands and eyes
will thank you, even if its contents prevent you from sleeping. Buy it here: <a href="http://www.adamlgnevill.com/ritual-limited-shop/">http://www.adamlgnevill.com/ritual-limited-shop/</a>.
(Nevill also has a new novel out, <i>Under a Watchful Eye</i>. Squee!)<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><b><i>Green
Room</i> (2015)</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Touring
hardcore band the Ain't Rights get set up with an impromptu gig and run afoul
of murderous Nazi punks (including, naturally, Patrick Stewart). While it's
touted as a horror film, </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Green Room</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"> is more suspense/thriller (similar in feel
to Kevin Smith's superior </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Red State</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">), with plenty of intense and gruesome
scenes, including and especially the already-infamous boxcutter scene. I enjoyed
this film, but I really expected more based on the hype. The ending in
particular is disappointingly formulaic, and while Stewart's terrific in
anything, of course, he's strangely and ineffectively tame in this role,
leaving the meaty mayhem up to the youngsters. Still, the music/band-related
details are surprisingly accurate (a true rarity), and any movie with Dead
Kennedys, Napalm Death, and Slayer on the soundtrack has at least three things
going for it right there. Worth a look, for sure.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><b><i>Fences</i> (2016)</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Denzel
Washington and Viola Davis reprise their Tony-winning roles as Troy and Rose
Maxson in this adaptation of August Wilson's Tony- and Pulitzer-winning play
about an African-American family in 1950s Pittsburgh. Washington and Davis are
absolutely brilliant, as always – and I can't be the only one who now,
post-</span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Training Day</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">, thinks Washington's characters are always nanoseconds away
from bellowing "KING KONG AIN'T GOT NOTHIN' ON <b><u>ME</u></b>!" – but the real heart of
this film is Mykelti Williamson (Bubba from <i>Forrest Gump</i>) as Gabe (left),
Troy's war-wounded brother. It's a role that could be hopelessly clichéd (cf.
"Simple Jack" and "never go full retard" from </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Tropic
Thunder</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">), but Williamson dissolves into this portrayal, making Gabe nuanced,
poignant, funny, and essential. </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Fences</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"> is an incredible, complex movie all
around. Highly recommended.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgadrk3DnjgZjfAOQmruAOM_B4DpdCnKV55cDcC2nQPJlLYeX7pXCqxuhZ0XDOiByOfQC3V9IK01cK69aFviNHq9Rlo1kzCCDPTAkmZ2rOl5tYGzPdhPVmit45I_RDnD9d7LAqrJ0FWim4/s1600/lobster.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgadrk3DnjgZjfAOQmruAOM_B4DpdCnKV55cDcC2nQPJlLYeX7pXCqxuhZ0XDOiByOfQC3V9IK01cK69aFviNHq9Rlo1kzCCDPTAkmZ2rOl5tYGzPdhPVmit45I_RDnD9d7LAqrJ0FWim4/s320/lobster.png" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><b><i>The Lobster </i>(2015)</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">This one
feels like an Anglo-Irish, world-weary Wes Anderson film. Single people in a
vaguely dystopian near-future move into a highly regimented hotel where they
must find a romantic partner within 45 days or get transformed into the animal
of their choosing. David (Colin Farrell, right) chooses the lobster because, as
he says, they "live for over one hundred years, are blue-blooded like
aristocrats, and stay fertile all their lives. I also like the sea very
much." The first half of this odd film is a clever, often hilarious satire
of how society views single people and the pressure put upon them to couple up.
(Here, "hilarious" means I guffawed with abandon perhaps eight
different times.) The second half, though, goes a bit off the rails and becomes
hard(er) to follow once a renegade group of singles escapes to the nearby woods
and takes up with a truly renegade group called the Loners. Still, after the
peerless </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">In Bruges</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">, I'll watch Farrell in anything, especially when he's
alongside John C. Reilly and (mmmmm) </span><a href="http://www.joblo.com/newsimages1/lobster-image-3-31.jpg" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Rachel Weisz</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">.</span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><b>The 2016 Presidential
Election</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUgDMQUTLzvBPYKYZvSeP2InXNKc9k9amQVFbAga66EE86BT66x1bTFla1TZBD7JXv-kpDPLd8WEVaTsBs8XndlMAWwuatnoMHxY6H3A8dMrpwiAdzGrHA5tMkuWsXmmOU7la3IvEBujQ/s1600/asteroid-impact.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUgDMQUTLzvBPYKYZvSeP2InXNKc9k9amQVFbAga66EE86BT66x1bTFla1TZBD7JXv-kpDPLd8WEVaTsBs8XndlMAWwuatnoMHxY6H3A8dMrpwiAdzGrHA5tMkuWsXmmOU7la3IvEBujQ/s320/asteroid-impact.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">In the gray, grim days after November 8, I spent a long time writing a real scorched-earth piece about the goddamned presidential election and its immediate aftermath, but, after revising and rereading it a dozen times, I decided it's just not worth posting. We're fucked, plain and simple.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">However, just so I don't close on an entirely fatalistic note, as a tonic for my despair,
I’ve begun writing an album of protest songs called <i>Cheeto
Hitler</i>, the tentative track listing for which appears below:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Hillary Clinton Came On to
Me at a Campaign Event and All I Got was This Lousy Wet Dream</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Small-Business Saturday</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Down in the Gutter (Where
the Real People Stay)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Stacks on Stacks on Stacks</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Cheeto Hitler</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Put Out My Eyes</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">An Empty Culture</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Fair-Weather Pacifist</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A Disease Called
Masculinity</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The Mouth That Ate Us All</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Rumination on the End</span></li>
</ol>
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</div>
kicker of elveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15819019135835419846noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-14859729032285650852016-10-24T07:55:00.000-05:002019-05-29T09:39:02.225-05:00Pray For Agatha, Burning In HellOnce again it's Halloween short-story (or novella, maybe?) time here at the blog we're all too lazy to update. If you like hunting down obscure 70's horror films this one should make you really happy, if happy's the right word. I hope it'll scare the crap out of you and disorient you and rob you of your sleep, but, failing that, at least I hope you won't be bored.<br />
<br />
As always, if you like stories, we have a whole bunch on this site, completely free of charge, so please read all you can stand. Here's a handy table of contents for you:<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
KickerOfElves:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/rigor-mortis.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Rigor Mortis</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/men-with-knives.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Men With Knives</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Profbolt:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/08/east-of-rulesville-guest-short-story.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">East of Rulesville</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My stuff:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-night-is-filled-with-maniacs.html">The Night Is Filled With Maniacs </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2016/03/gone-shootin.html" target="_blank">Gone Shootin' </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/creak.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Creak</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/shrouded-in-rain.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shrouded In Rain </span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2013/11/bodies-not-recovered.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Bodies Not Recovered</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/10/scribblebones.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scribblebones</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/long-tall-sally.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Long Tall Sally</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/shik-chuff.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shik-Chuff</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/11/damp-basements-of-heaven.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">The Damp Basements of Heaven</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2010/10/up-stairs-where-windows-are-painted.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Up The Stairs Where The Windows Are Painted Black</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/665-1.html" target="_blank">665+1 </a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
And <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/10/pleasant-dreams.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">little descriptions of actual nightmares I’ve had</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"> </span></div>
<br />
<br />
And feedback is about all we get out of posting these things, so please comment. Constructive criticism is helpful, praises are encouraging, and even "fuck you, you can't write"s can be hilarious.<br />
<br />
<br />
<h2>
PRAY FOR AGATHA, BURNING IN HELL</h2>
<br />
<br />
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The title of the e-mail from
Wiggles Nusbaum was ninety percent exclamation marks, so Bryan thought <i>London
After Midnight</i> must have been discovered, or Wiggles had scored a DVD of <i>The
Day The Clown Cried</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Wiggles Nusbaum (almost
certainly not his real name, but Bryan knew no other) was a video-forum friend
who was obsessed with hard-to-find films.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Wiggles was obsessive; he’d sit through some obscure Norwegian version
of <i>Heidi</i> if it was hard to get.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Anything that had him writing like a sorority girl it was likely a big
effing deal, and thanks to the video underground's relentless barrel-scraping
there just weren't that many big effing deals left.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>With his adrenal glands already
kicking in, Bryan opened the email.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It read:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>DUDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whatever you thought you were doing
Thursday...</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>...CANCEL
IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then there was a link to a
website.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anticipation growing, Bryan
clicked, and it took him to the bulletin board of a small college in Tennessee,
and a post which read:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>THE BELLWORTH COLLEGE FILM CLUB
PRESENTS</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>Thursday Oct. 22</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>A midnite
showing of</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>Pray For Agatha,
Burning In Hell<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(1971, Color)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>Reiger Hall Rm
464 (Auditorium)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>Admission Free
But Donations Welcome</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"No fucking way,"
Bryan said, sending it to the printer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He dreaded taking the road trip, but he didn't have much choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Pray For Agatha, Burning In Hell</i> was
one of those films like <i>The Strange Flesh Of Rosemary Blythe</i>, having a
reputation as one of the scariest films ever made even though almost no one had
seen it and almost nothing was known about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was so hard to track down that there were more rumors of people who'd
seen it than there were about the film itself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was easier to find people who'd seen Bigfoot, and they were as often
liars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How had some small-college film
club in Tennessee turned up a copy of a film Bryan only half-believed actually
existed?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He did internet searches for
more info but there was nothing about anybody having turned up a print.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That should have been an
earthquake-magnitude event in the horror community, but there was nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wiggles had a radar for that kind of thing
but how had he even spotted the notice?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Did the film club even know what they had on their hands?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The posting was so low-key it was almost
comical, like they were just trotting <i>Night of the Living Dead</i> or <i>Carnival
of Souls</i> out for another drag through the projector instead of fucking <i>Pray
For Agatha, Burning In Hell!</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bryan e-mailed Wiggles with a
dozen questions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He thought Wiggles
lived in Portland, but felt certain he'd be flying to Tennessee for this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Provided it was even true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had to be some kind of mistake.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bryan had phobias about
traveling alone, but he <i>had</i> to go to this; he almost wished it wasn't
laid in front of him like this because now he'd have to do it, and he didn't
relish the effort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He'd have to miss
two days of work, and wasn't likely to find anyone who'd want to make the trip
with him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He Google-mapped the drive
and printed out maps of Bellworth's campus and even tried to find a floor plan
of Reiger Hall to help him find the auditorium, but there wasn't one.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There was a good bit of other information
online about Reiger Hall, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it
was so creepy he forgot about <i>Pray For Agatha </i>for a while.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Reiger, a biology building, was
one of the few old buildings left over from a previous university that had
stood were Bellworth was standing now, and before that it had been a children's
boarding school that had burned in the 1840's and was rebuilt from the gutted
shell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eighteen children had died in
that fire and many people still thought it should've been pulled down after
that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When they were doing some
renovations in the early 1960's they'd found the mummified, flattened corpse of
a child wedged between a couple of walls, smoke-cured and pressed like a flower
in a book by building shifts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The walls
had squeezed it so flat it was reportedly translucent in spots, like cloudy
amber, and rather than bury it they'd archived it somewhere as a medical
curiosity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ghost-hunter sites had made
a lot of trips to Reiger and reported all kinds of craziness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though still in use, the building was
supposedly semi-derelict, always damp and cold and with a basement so
perpetually flooded that they'd just sealed it off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Students claimed there were still anatomical
specimens housed in Reiger, and that a few students had been expelled (and
institutionalized) for making love to one they'd called "Dear Abby"
-- Abby Cadaver -- which they'd claimed "seduced" them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bryan supposed that was why they
were showing horror movies there;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>what
better place?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if the movie proved
to be the disappointment that forbidden fruit often is, experiencing Reiger
Hall might be worth the trip in and of itself.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bryan printed out all the info,
intending to include some of it as backstory when he reviewed <i>Pray For
Agatha, Burning In Hell</i> on the film forum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He'd make a whole narrative of it, because it would certainly be one of
the most widely-read posts in the history of that forum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Horror film buffs obsessed about that movie
the way penitents obsessed over the second coming of Christ.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He checked his e-mail
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing from Wiggles.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>*<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>*<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>*</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Two days later, Thursday the
22nd, there was still no reply from Wiggles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The film club post was still up;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bryan had been certain that they'd print some retraction, but no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bryan still felt certain that there was some
kind of mistake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He'd get there and find
out some joker had stuck a <i>Pray For Agatha</i> label on some old
strawberry-vinegar reels of <i>Don't Look In The Basement</i> or <i>Lady
Frankenstein</i> or some other common thing, or retitled some other movie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was always hearing about how many movies
on the Asian video market were named <i>Voodoo Black Exorcist</i> when none of
them were the real deal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even when they
had a<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>more-precious rarity like <i>The
Spider's Labyrinth</i> they'd title it <i>Voodoo Black Exorcist</i>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He'd arranged leave time from
work, though, so he was going, fiasco or not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Whatever it was, he'd get a good story out of it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The drive from Alabama was long
and tense, most of it through nowhere-country where if you saw a house at all
you had to wonder what the people in it did for a living.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>October was already stripping the flesh off
the trees, and the sky looked like dust, crawling overhead, thick and the color
of disappointment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The day had a chill
to it; winter had its teeth in the last of autumn and was gnawing, the warmth
and color bleeding out of the world, dead leaves giving way to the
skeletal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Driving through the lonely
back country he could see it fading, feel the cold they were in for teasing
like a playful uncle you're not comfortable being left alone with.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Watching the world outside the
car windows, he felt even more certain that there was no way he was going to
see <i>Pray For Agatha, Burning In Hell</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>All the portents were wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Doom, doom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Damn Wiggles for even sending me here.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He got to Oneda, the town where
Bellworth College was situated, right after nightfall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Knowing his limitations, he'd given himself
plenty of time to get lost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Several
times he'd thought he was on the wrong road but he somehow found the place
anyway, by lucky mistake more than skill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Oneda was the least collegey-looking of any college town he'd ever been
in, some swept-into-a-corner place, shabby and dead and small, with a weird
scent to it like an old house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
wondered what they'd study in a half-abandoned river town that offered nothing
that wasn't bleak and cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was far
more October here than in the town he'd left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was probably October here even in the middle of summer, he thought,
and wondered how students didn't get bored out of their minds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It looked like any other grimy nothing town,
only more so, with lots of empty storefronts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Half the town was for rent and the other half was starving to
bones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where were the people?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bryan stopped at a motel to make
sure he had a room for the night; he didn't want to try driving back to Alabama
in the small hours, especially after seeing a film as notorious as this was
supposed to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once that was settled,
he went to a Chinese buffet for dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was a chain he liked in his town, but this one was cruddy and the
food tasted stale and reheated, and there were fat flies buzzing around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only three other customers sat in the whole
place, an old couple who looked like they were going to a Halloween party as
the couple from <i>American Gothic</i>, and a morbidly obese guy who had
something disgustingly wrong with one of his eyes; it was bugged out and looked
off in a wrong direction, slowly weeping like it was being shoved out by the
slow emergence of something growing within.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His bristly scalp had wrinkles so deep they looked like they'd
hurt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bryan wanted to take a picture of
him for the eventual blog post and label it “One of the mutants of Oneda,” but
knew that would be unkind.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>For the first time he didn't
make a return pass through the buffet and went back to the motel to kill a few
hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He'd taken the cheapest place he
could find and it looked like nothing had been upgraded since the 70's, but
that only added to the atmosphere for the film he was there to see.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He checked carefully for bedbugs, but the
place seemed clean enough, though worn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Some bored somebody had taken a knife to the plastic chair in his room,
whittling its edges into saw blades.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The television gave him the last
fifteen minutes of some old horror movie on a local station, and he couldn't
recognize it, which was amazing since he thought he'd seen everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was crude and obviously 1970's vintage,
and in it some guy with severe sideburns and sunglasses broke into a house and
killed a hippie and his girlfriend using a hatchet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the next scene there was a shot of hands
baiting a lobster trap with bits of meat, presumably from the murdered couple,
then tossing it into the sea as the credits started rolling and inappropriately
"beautiful" music played on the soundtrack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bryan tried to catch a few cast members'
names to look up on IMDB but the station cut the credits off to show some loud
used car commercial with a guy dressed as a chicken, hopefully for
Halloween.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bryan waited for the
station's call letters but they never showed them, instead going into an old
episode of <i>Mannix</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bryan re-read some of the
information he'd printed out about <i>Pray For Agatha, Burning In Hell,</i> but
it was scant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The longest review was
from a non-horror film preservation site, from a list titled <i>Lost?</i>, and
it didn't have much to offer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "simsun"; mso-bidi-font-family: SimSun;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><b><i>Pray For Agatha, Burning In Hell</i> </b>(1971, Color,
dir: Paul Reed (deceased) - copyright status undetermined, alternate titles
unknown.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "simsun"; mso-bidi-font-family: SimSun;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A demonic possession film that predates <i>The Exorcist</i>
(film, not book, although production was finished before the book was
published), this should have been boosted by the excitement that surrounded
Blatty's book, but inept distribution condemned this one to scattered drive-ins
and a few four-wall engagements.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rather
than an innocent young girl, the demon's victim here is an old woman whose
possession is initially blamed on encroaching senility.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead of being tied to a bed, Agatha is
free to roam and commits various blasphemous atrocities which are remarkably
gory for the time period, and the whole film reportedly has the kind of septic,
more-than-you-bargained-for feel of such films as <i>Maniac</i> or <i>Last
House on Dead End Street</i>, combined with the dreamy early-70's atmosphere
found in <i>Let's Scare Jessica To Death</i> and <i>Messiah of Evil</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Claimed by the few who've seen it as perhaps
the most terrifying film they've ever seen and of having definite artistic
merit, as well as a "unique atmosphere."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No doubt the distributors of horror
obscurities on DVD would love to track down a print of this one, but so far, no
luck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Finally, Bryan decided it was
reasonable to set out to find Reiger Hall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He'd be early, most likely, but gave himself plenty of time-margin for
getting lost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He imagined a small
campus, but he took nothing for granted.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Slouched outside the motel, near
Bryan's car, was a potato man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wore a
large, long brown coat of no particular shape, muddy-looking like a giant
potato, and his face was like looking into a sack of them -- potato chin,
potato nose, potato cheeks and brows, all with a layer of dusty dirt and
specks, and growths that might be eyes sprouting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bryan wondered if it could be
acromegaly,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>but then some people are
just ugly and it's not a disease.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bryan
was alarmed but nodded hello.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The man,
apparently a vagrant, didn't respond.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His behavior, too, was potato-like.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As he drove onto campus, he was
glad he'd left early; it was a larger campus than expected, and sprawled and
disorganized, and -- he was surprised -- badly lit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the fear of bad press from rapes, most
college campuses were lit up like Christmas trees, but not Bellworth College,
where the slogan seemed to be "Get Raped, Who Gives A Shit?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Worried about forgetting where he left his
car, Bryan picked out the most distinctive building he could find -- the
library -- and parked next to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
library had a clock tower, which was unusual, but the hands had fallen off the
clock, which made it odd that its face still had spotlights beaming on it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>That</i> they maintained, while the
parking lot was like the bottom of a coal mine.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Consulting his campus map, he
saw he'd have a pretty good hike to Reiger Hall, which was situated through a
wooded area near no roads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unusual, but
it was considered a relic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the
official biology building but he wasn't sure Bellworth had much of a biology
program.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There were a few students on
campus at this hour and they all looked a little scary, acting drunk, stumbling
through the corridors of night after some party that had gotten way out of
hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A crazy-eyed white guy with a
shaved head met him on the sidewalk, openly smoking a very loud-smelling joint.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He glared at Bryan with frosty eyes, dragged
hard on the joint, blasted the smoke at him with a loud "Ha-HAH!" and
then kept walking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bryan thought of
asking for directions to Reiger but decided he wasn't a good guy to ask.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A couple were sitting on a bench
in front of a grimy statue of some college founder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The guy's face was buried in the girl's neck, his hand down the front of
her pants, digging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She stared at Bryan
with a wide-mouthed-and-sleepy-eyed smile and waggled come-here fingers at him,
then witchy-laughed when he kept walking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Stoned out of her mind, Bryan thought, wishing he'd snapped a picture
with his phone but not about to go back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Buildings hulked around him in
the dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Occasionally there were
lighted windows and he wondered what was going on in those rooms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He stopped under a working lampost (one of
the few; someone had gone on a breaking spree recently, and glass was still
scattered under them) and studied his map, trying to figure out where he
was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Things didn't seem to match up,
though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He felt sure he was going in the
right direction but was lost just the same.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He tried stopping a girl to ask
directions but she walked past him, ignoring him completely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn't blame her, a lone girl on this
sleazy dark campus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He stopped a guy
under one of the lights, a bald guy with a large, shiny, plastic-looking head
with a few clipped hairs on it; it looked like something manufactured but
dusty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The guy listened to him with a
stare as he explained what he was looking for, but then stood there, offering
no response but a slight smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bryan
finally rushed away from him, unnerved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Behind him the guy still stood, smirking at nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The clouded moon was high, like
a coin dropped in muddy water, offering muted light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He saw a short, squat figure ahead of him and
thought about trying to ask for directions again, but it ducked behind a
tree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tree's limbs clawed at the
sky, its trunk warty and swollen with fungus;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>there was a sour smell of disease there, possibly from the fungus,
possibly from whoever was hiding behind the trunk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bryan didn't like someone he didn't know
playing hide-and-seek with him in the dark, but heard them giggling, so low it
was an impression as much as a sound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
hurried past.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Who needs a horror movie with
a campus like this? </i>he thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He'd
already had a trip through the funhouse, and this movie better be legit and it
better live up to the hype, because he was going to already have nightmares
just from getting to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And even if he
turned back now he wasn't sure he'd be able to find his car again; the layout
of the campus made no sense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked
back, trying to find the library's clock tower but there was nothing; maybe
they'd turned off the spotlights and it was lost in the darkness, or maybe he'd
already wandered too far away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe he
wasn't even looking in the right direction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Nothing behind him looked familiar, though he'd certainly passed it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mostly there was just a vast blackness, night
wrapped in night.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He wandered the sidewalk for
another ten minutes or so, feeling time creeping up on him; it was good he'd
left so early, but would even that be early enough for this labyrinth?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He entered a copse of trees and
was swallowed by darkness, barely able to make out the lighter stripe of sidewalk
in the gloom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Glass from a shattered
streetlamp crunched under his feet and he cursed whoever had thrown the
rocks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Off to the right he sensed more
than saw a presence, a shape sitting on a bench, maybe a person, maybe
not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Experimentally he said,
"Hello?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Hi?" said a whispery
voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Female, equally cautious, maybe
mocking.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I wonder if you can help
me," he said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I don't know," said
the voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dry, husky.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Um... I'm trying to get to
a movie a film club's supposed to be showing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Can you help me find Reiger Hall?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Reiger?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, I'm from Reiger."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The shape stood up and joined him and they
walked through the darkness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Is it far?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"No, it's close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just over this way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You probably would have found it if you kept
walking."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I don't know, I've been
looking all over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can't make sense out
of this campus."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She laughed quietly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I know what you mean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was designed by a crazy man, I
think."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They stepped into the light and
the girl alarmed him, she was so thin, a final-stage something, not a thing
that should be walking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surely she was
anorexic, in need of someone's help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her
hair was dark and lank and her face was all gloomy dark eyes, remarkably large,
black like there was nothing but pupil, gleaming wet like oil.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, she was the first helpful person he'd
met here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I appreciate this, I've
been fumbling around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I came up here
from Alabama and really have no idea where I am at this point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked a few people for help but they've
all been... I don't know, I guess they've been partying."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She laughed, quietly again,
everything about her was quiet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
seemed barely there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"People are
strange here."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Yeah, I'll say," he
laughed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"No offense taken,"
she said, with a sly little smile that gave her a different face, an oddly
attractive one.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Certainly none
intended," he laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"You've
been very kind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My name's Bryan, by the
way."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Abigail," she said,
then pointed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"There's Reiger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>See the big ugly building?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He followed the line of her
near-fleshless hand and yes, there it was, he recognized it from the website,
although it looked much worse in the dark, a looming derelict, ominous in the
night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surely no one was still allowed
in that monstrosity!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But he did see dim
lights in some upper windows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Wow!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What a wreck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They let people in there?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is that really where they show movies?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Oh yeah, they do
that," Abigail said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Have
fun."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She turned and passed back
into the darkness, fading.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Thank you!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hey, would you like to come to the film with
me?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was creepy, but better
than no company at all.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Seen it!" she said,
then laughed and was gone, back into the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He was alone again, faced with the madness of going into... that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That <i>thing.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"It's <i>Pray For Agatha,
Burning In Hell</i>," he reminded himself under his breath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Or it fucking well better
be."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wouldn't even start for
nearly an hour and it was already the scariest movie he'd ever seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Admission free</i>, hell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn't money, but he was paying.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He climbed worn steps to a heavy
black door and stepped inside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The place
was dim, half the lights out and others flickering and fizzling, and Bryan got
the feeling he wasn't supposed to be in here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Surely this wasn't a functioning building in a college that was still
open for business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No maintenance crew
would ever allow the lighting to reach such a state, and no janitors the amount
of litter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The end of the hall was
completely black, punctuated by one lighted window in<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a door near the end, so tiny it made the
hallway seem to stretch for miles.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Looking down that dark hallway
he wondered if he should go on at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He wasn't in the right place, and he might get arrested for even being
in this building.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The whole internet
posting must have been a prank, bait laid out to lure some film geeks into a
place they shouldn't be.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But he heard the ceiling
creaking from footsteps above. Someone was here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had a printout of the bulletin board
posting in his coat, he could show it to a security guard if he got caught
here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was innocent, invited by the
guilty.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He wandered down the hall,
squinting in the dimness, wishing he had a flashlight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On a column near a door labeled
"STAIRWAY" was taped a piece of paper with "MOVIE,
MIDNITE!" scrawled on it, with an arrow pointing up around the word
"AUDITORIUM, RM 464."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beside
it was drawn a winking smiley face and a disembodied hand holding a bunch of
balloons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That made little sense, but
it said "movie" at least, which gave him a little confidence. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He went into the stairwell.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The light there was flickering
like crazy, and Bryan remembered what he'd read about the basement of Reiger
being flooded and sealed off. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe that
was why the power was shorting out?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
whole thing seemed ridiculously dangerous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was a rusty smell to the place, probably due to the bricked-up
basement below, swampy and iron like breathing through a bloody nose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As he mounted the stairs he could hear
twangs and creaks echoing up the well like the whole place was tuning up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Someone crazy for clowns had
done a lot of painting in the stairwell, covering the walls from the second
story on up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their enthusiasm was not
matched by their skill;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the proportions
were all wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here was a hand bigger
than its torso, a smile that stretched beyond the border of the face and hung
in the air, an extra eye, crazy acid-pleasing colors, clowns far more of
madness than of glee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They hurt Bryan's
head and the stairs were so dark he could only make out the suggestions of more
in the corners, furtive, skulking clowns in the dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reiger had once been a children's school
until the fire in the 1840s (he remembered the body found between the walls,
flattened like one of these horrible clowns) and he wondered if these paintings
were some twisted tribute to them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He'd
like to count them and compare it to the number of dead children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eighteen, hadn't it been?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There seemed more clowns than that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And daisies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Someone had certainly had a thing for those, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the way back out he'd be sure to take
pictures of all this madness, because otherwise no one would believe it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There was a lot of litter on the
stairs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A shred of an old essay cover
bore the scrawl "Why Man Will Never Land On The Moon."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had gotten a B+.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surely it was a joke, planted there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What a funhouse, all caked with
age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The building felt starved, and he
had the sense of being digested as he moved through it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a horrible feeling, the night
squeezing and absorbing him, making him a part of all this lunacy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the stairs made him nauseous;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>they seemed hung slightly off kilter,
disturbing his inner ear, the creation of a psychotic architect with a grudge
against the human race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you even
tried to describe it you'd end up babbling, and he wondered how he'd type it up
for the blog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Grime clung in every crack
like the folds in some workman's unwashed hands, waiting to clap shut on
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The stairwell echoed like
fingernails inside a coffin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God, did
the stairs ever end?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Up and up and up,
stairway to heaven.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How high up could
the fourth floor be?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He passed the door
to the third and it was chained shut and padlocked, the window in the door
showing lights out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone was there,
though; he could hear them through the door, yelling far down the hall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jesus.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The building was almost worn
out, but by what awful people?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who would
ever work here?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What kind of minds could
be grown in this environment?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Mushrooms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They would clot up and
sour like forgotten milk.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There was a window to the
outside and Bryan rested next to it for a moment, taking in the campus in the
moonlight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It looked like one big crime
scene, some foul gutter too long untended.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He'd never hated any place so much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Somewhere in this building were other people and he wasn't sure he
wanted to meet them because he was an idiot for even visiting here, so what
must they be?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe this dim,
flickering lighting suited them, maybe they appreciated the clowns on the wall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Worse, maybe they painted them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An artist colony, a clown-cult, infesting
this rancid shell, gone mad expressing loonietoon creative impulses better off
repressed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hang their works in a museum
and then turn out the lights so they could be enjoyed properly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Above him the stairs went
completely dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He gripped the bannister
and kept climbing, determined.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He'd been
through all of this, he'd see his damned movie, yes he would, and then he'd
never stop bragging.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The stairs seemed to go much
higher than the building, but he finally reached the fourth floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its door was marked by a lit window, cracked
chickenwire glass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He pushed it open.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A guy was sitting at a chair with an
attached desk beside the door and looked up at him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Hi," Bryan said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Are you with the film club?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The guy laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Nope!"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Oh, I thought maybe you
were doing tickets or something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They're
showing a movie here, right?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The guy shrugged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Could be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They do that sometime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some weirdoes show them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Crazy shit."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He shook his head, laughing, like showing
movies was an absurdity unfathomable.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bryan checked his watch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Almost half an hour before midnight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Time to kill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He noticed a tattoo on the guy's forearm,
really beautiful art, a gorgeous girl with long hair flowing over her, hiding
nudity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a relief to see good art
after all the clowns crowding the stairwell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"I like your tattoo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That's
some great art," Bryan said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The guy grinned wider.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Thanks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Saved up a long time for that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
just want somebody to be there when I die, y'know?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bryan hoped he wasn't making the
face he felt he might be making.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Yeah, I guess."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Be my luck to die 'cuz I
get my arm chopped off!" the guy said, then barked a laugh too loud for
the building.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Well, that'd suck,"
Bryan said, forcing a companionable chuckle.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Tell me about it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You know how it is, though, girls always
leave ya."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Well, I hope not that
one." </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"That's the
idea."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He tapped his arm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"She's trapped in there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like me."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Um... the auditorium <i>is</i>
on this floor, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's room
four-sixty-four, I figured that meant fourth floor."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Oh yeah, it's off down the
hall there."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He waved a hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Probably where they're showing your
movie, huh?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Supposed to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, thanks, huh?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"No problem."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The guy sat grinning at him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Feeling awkward, like he hadn't sufficiently
closed the conversation, Bryan headed down the hall.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Off to the right was a door
whose pebbled glass window read DISSECTION LAB.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The lights were off in there but there was crazy giggling coming from
behind the door, like drunks doing something naughty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bryan got a chill and turned to look back at
the tattooed guy at the desk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was
still turned in his seat, staring at Bryan with a wide smile.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Shit," Bryan
whispered and kept walking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lights
were dimmed by fixtures stuffed full of old moth corpses, light filtered yellow
through dusty death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The floor was
arithmetic made of limbs of roaches, mingled with hair, very unseemly for a
building full of biology labs. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Here he was, in a building with
a history of mass child-death, mummification, necrophilia, to watch one of the
scariest films ever made.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>None of it
felt real yet he wasn't dreaming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
there were madmen laughing in the rooms where they kept the cadavers, and
running around screaming on closed-off dark floors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The guy at the desk was probably still
grinning at his back, and if he turned he'd see it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why not?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Laugh at me, wanting to watch a scary midnight movie when so much worse
was going on, a joke I’m not in on.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He found the auditorium to his
left, a small one but impressive, angling downward perhaps a bit too steeply,
so all the seats had a good view of the stage, which was so small he doubted
they used it for plays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lectures, more
likely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being a biology building it may
have seen a dissection or two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ol' Abby
Cadaver.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The room was chilly enough to
keep the dead happy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The film club had hung an old
bedsheet up for a screen, nailed to a board at the bottom to make sure it hung
flat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A film club without access to a
real screen?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A piece of cardboard
(slashed from an old FedEx box, Bryan noticed -- the rest of the box had been
thrown into a corner) was propped on an easel, and someone had smeared it in
what looked convincingly like blood, spelling out "PRAY FOR AGATHA BURNING
IN HELL!" above a smudged pentagram, and a smaller word,
"Damnit!"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, that was a
good sign, ha ha, Bryan thought.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Midnight was approaching and the
only other person in the auditorium was one guy sitting in the back corner
across the room, in a spot so dim Bryan could hardly make him out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was hunched up in his seat, and Bryan
thought of the potato man he'd seen back at the motel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They grew them in the dark here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Couldn't be him, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The shape twitched, apparently aware it was
being looked at and not liking it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
made a noise like the greeting of someone so drunk the consonants wouldn't
stick to his tongue and all that was left were the vowels, this big slurry of
sound like you'd taken something away from a halfwit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Aaaa oo eeee!"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A chill crawled through Bryan and settled in
his chest.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Here for the
movie?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bryan asked, just to
acknowledge the attempt at communication.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The guy gathered himself in his
seat with an angry snuffle, and Bryan waved and turned back around in his seat,
thinking <i>why should the night start being normal now?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>He was already writing his blog post in
his head, deciding he'd use artistic license to turn that guy into something
put together by the drunks in the anatomy lab.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Why not?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was Halloween, after
all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The review of <i>Pray For Agatha</i>
could turn out to be the shortest (and least frightening) part of his post.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Provided they ever actually
showed it, that was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The time crept up
past midnight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another guy, thin and
tall and with a weird waxy smile on his face, dressed too formally, came in and
Bryan thought maybe he was from the film club but he took a seat on the other
side of the room and sat straight and stiff, still smiling like something wrong
with his face was forcing him to do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bryan glanced over at him a few times and the guy never moved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If he hadn't seen him come in he'd think he
was a propped-up mannequin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The shape in
the back corner fidgeted as if itchy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was twelve-fifteen and Bryan
wondered if the film club as just waiting to see if some stragglers were going
to show up, or if something was wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It'd be his luck if the last print of <i>Pray For Agatha</i> in
existence got eaten by the projector.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>This
isn't going to happen</i>, Bryan thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><i>All this creepy shit and then no movie.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then, sometime around 12:30 the
lights suddenly snapped out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Approximately a minute later the screen lit up with a loud
crackle like a strong wind catching wet canvas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Green scratch-lines raced over a black
background and the warped chords of an acoustic guitar started, and adrenalin
surged through Bryan, jolting him alert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><i>This was it</i>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The scratches continued in the
dark as the most morbid blues song he'd ever heard started crackling on the
soundtrack, hideously bent chords shoving each other aside to escape busted
speakers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wondered if the condition
of the soundtrack was warping the music or if the guy playing was just that
evil with talent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Screech and thunk,
like something coming up from the ground.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The screen slowly lit up to show
a fat black spider on a web gleaming in the sun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It brightened, then gradually darkened, and
the lines in the web melded perfectly into the wrinkles around an eye where the
spider had been.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a hell of a
shot and Bryan already knew he was looking at art.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the lower left corner under the eye red
words faded in, PRAY FOR AGATHA BURNING IN HELL, as the soundtrack grew louder,
louder, louder, a harsh sound between an ambulance siren and the buzzing of
flies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Too loud, it alarmed him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The print had gone slightly pink
and vinegar-splotched and was full of scratches and jumps but it was still
sharp, showing an old woman -- presumably Agatha -- with a dead stare and wild
white hair trudging through a forest at what looked like early morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the surrounding woods Bryan could see
smoking figures writhing in the brush, more suggested than seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A close-up showed her bare feet stepping
through the mud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The camera lingered on
the footprints long enough to show him the mud was full of teeth and hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Charred feathers hung in the weeds.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The blues song tumbled along,
the most ominous music he'd ever heard, and the camera focused on Agatha's
face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn't feel like he was looking
at an actress, but some terminal patient stolen from a hospice and
exploited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her stare was senile,
senseless, flesh swollen and loose on her face, wobbling with each step like it
might drop off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If she wasn't sick then
she was already dead and being animated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Nothing had really happened yet and Bryan already felt like he was
watching something he shouldn't.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He noticed no other credits were
following the title.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The 70's were
weird, so maybe they were saving them all for the end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It made the whole thing look even more like
some kind of snuff product, cheap porno-film sleaziness, but already
undoubtedly more artistic than the usual.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bryan was staring, trying to absorb every detail, every second, knowing
he might never get to see this thing again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>On the soundtrack vocals joined the guitar but they were inarticulate,
chuckling, drunken raspy mumbles, too creepy to stand.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Agatha trudged along through the
foggy woods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was clutching a package
wrapped in rags.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A swirling shot showed
a tall tower rising above the trees, an abandoned chapel in the mist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The camera pointed up and turned
dizzily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An establishing shot over
Agatha's shoulder showed the tower again in the distance, and the camera zoomed
on a window at its peak.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then there was a shot of an old
black man grinning in the darkness, plucking at a guitar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its wood was scarred and scorched, and his
teeth were silver and so, it appeared, were his eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He bent the strings and the sound was cold,
severe, deep as a train moving through the three-a.m. distance, chords
throbbing like draining blood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
mumbled and nodded, voice like the stirring of dried leaves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Roaches scurried in and out of his guitar as
he plucked it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In close-up he laughed
and a couple of roaches rushed out of his mouth.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Jesus</i>, Bryan
thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No special effect, the guy'd
just held some live roaches in his mouth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How they'd made his eyes silver was harder to guess, unless he was
eyeless and they'd tucked a couple of pinballs in the sockets.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This, Bryan knew, was the
devil.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They ddin't need to use any cheap
horns or makeup to make this man look demonic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He was a crossroads Satan, calling his servant through the woods.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Agatha trudged along.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The package she was carrying squirmed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bryan already felt full of dread
and the film was only three or four minutes old.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There was a sudden cut to a man
and woman in an office, both dressed in 1970's polyester.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The guy's hair was longish and he had a silly
mustache, and the woman's hair was straight, long, and blonde.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her pants suit looked like it was made out of
motel-room curtains.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"You're sure
she's nowhere?" he asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Nowhere in the
hospital," the woman said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"We've looked everywhere."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The man shook his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I don't see how she could have gotten
anywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She's terminal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'd have bet she couldn't even climb out of
bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And even if she could walk around,
her mind is gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She hasn't done
anything in the past couple of weeks except giggle."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The woman shuddered,
remembering.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"She couldn't have found
her way out of the hospital," the man's voice continued on the soundtrack
as the camera prowled the halls of a hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It showed little details, surgical implements, doors with numbers, a few
smeared blood drops on white tiles. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
maternity ward. It panned over babies and settled meaningfully on an empty crib
before cutting back to Agatha walking along.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“I don’t know how she could even find the door to her room, the state
her mind is in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She wasn’t even here
when she was here. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’s nowhere.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Nowhere, nowhere</i> echoed on the soundtrack, over a close-up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Agatha’s dead eyes and a thin wet smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her mouth moved with muttering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The blues chords were gone and there were
only early morning birds and late-night insect sounds giving way to each
other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The film jumped and scratches
obliterated the picture for second, like the print had been attacked by a
cat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A clot of dust caught in the corner
of the screen, then sped away.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Agatha reached the ruined
chapel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More pale shapes writhed at the
edges of the frame, and more burnt feathers drifted through low-hanging tree
limbs that tore at her hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A close-up
showed a live mouse tangled in it, and Agatha looked directly into the camera,
eyes feverish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She smiled and Bryan
squirmed in his seat and gasped as the camera held the shot too long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He felt stupid, but this film was getting to
him already.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There were more shots of rooms
in the hospital, nurses searching, one running and screaming soundlessly, then
back to Agatha walking into the chapel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was cluttered with dead leaves, and a close-up showed Agatha's muddy
feet stepping on shards of stained glass and leaving smears of blood in their
wake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Flashes of the hospital intercut
with the chapel.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The film crackled harshly and jumped
and Agatha was on a stairwell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few
more seconds missing and she was higher.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The stairwell wound upward, dimly lit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was graffiti on the walls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The film popped and jumped, threatening to derail. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Crickets and roaches scrambled
away from Agatha's bleeding feet on the stairs as she climbed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Worms and larvae fell from her, twisting on
the stairs as she passed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>More shots of her walking and
Bryan looked at the stuff painted on the walls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Crazy stuff, words that made no sense, letters backwards, in impossible
order.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He saw daisies on the wall in
the background, then a clown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its hand
was bigger than its torso and its smile hung past the borders of its face.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bryan frowned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wished this was a DVD so he could back it
up and make sure he'd seen what he thought he saw.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Was there some cult built around
this film, so people had copied images from it on the stairwell of Reiger Hall?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He glanced around the
auditorium.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The stiff guy was still
sitting motionless, and it was too dark to tell if the one in the back corner
was there at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another couple of
people had joined them since the film started, he saw, but the room was too
dark to make out anything about them, just presences in the seats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wished he knew someone here.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Agatha climbed further past more
clowns painted on the walls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a
quick shot of Agatha's blankly smiling face and then a flash of a face with
seven eyes, all moving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It looked real
and Bryan wished he could get a better look at it but it was gone in the dark.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Agatha reached the summit of the
tower and set the writhing bundle down, then fumbled in her gown, laughing
soundlessly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few blues chords came
back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She pulled out an ugly-looking
little knife and there was a shot out the tower window of the misty woods, full
of furtive movements.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Agatha's hands,
like gloves pulled over bones, trembled as they opened the bundle's cloth and
the soundtrack <i>screamed</i> an amplified hiss as it opened, but the film cut
to Agatha's eyes, looking down, before the contents were shown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She stared down, trembling, doing something
with her hands as the hiss got even louder, malevolence made audible.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then the film was out on a
sunlit street and for the next ten minutes or so it followed a young woman
through a city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She went into an office
where she and a man behind the desk discussed a murder her grandmother Agatha
had been involved in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The girl argued
that her grandmother couldn't possibly have chopped someone up with a hatchet
when she didn't have enough mental capacity left to even make her own lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Besides, she’d always been a kind, sweet
woman, she couldn’t have done such a thing even if she were physically able.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The man told her Agatha needed to be
institutionalized anyway, so exonerating her would make little difference to
her fate... but her bloody fingerprints were found all over the scene and bite
marks on the body matched her teeth and the victim's blood was on her clothes,
her arms were covered with scratches and bruises,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and one of his eyes and some of his teeth had
been found in her pocket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But her
grandmother was a frail old woman, the girl argued, there was no way she'd be
able to do to human anatomy what had been done to the dead man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surely someone had framed her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The man suggested that, if so, whoever had
done the framing did such a good job that the must've found a way to use her
body to do the killing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A song full of
laughing played after he said that.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The girl, looking upset, drove
around some more and went into an old bookshop and talked to a creepy old man
who told her that sometimes when a mind stops using a body it leaves space for
another to move in, take over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Demons
and spirits, he said, were desperate to get into our world, and they'd find any
body not sufficiently occupied and swarm into it, like people rushing into a
building to escape the rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You are
not looking for your grandmother,” he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Your grandmother is gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
are looking for a hoarde.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then there was a shot of Agatha
laughing in the dark, demented and squealing, blood around her mouth, chewing.<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> She crawled off into a shadow and the film
was darkness and hissing laughter for longer than Bryan was comfortable with
enduring.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Back to the girl, who was
driving into a sunset, listening to radio reports of crimes, civil unrest, and
the war in Vietnam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Around her the town
grew dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bryan was impressed with the
cinematography and composition, showing the sunset, the long shadows, dusk
coming down, lights in houses coming on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Even without music on the soundtrack the sense of building dread was
clear and strong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When night fell even
worse things would happen.<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The camera prowled through the
woods, emerged into a back yard, and headed for the lights of a house.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Back to another scene with the
young woman in a kitchen, preparing dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was a knock at the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She answered and it was the police, reporting that her grandmother had
escaped from the hospital and had stolen a baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The young woman was very upset and promised
to alert them immediately if she heard from her grandmother, and said she
didn't see how any of this was possible, her grandmother was frail to the point
of dying.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The inside of a dimly-lit
house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Flickering TV light, a television
laugh track was going in the background.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was blood all over the floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A child's hand stuck past the edge of the screen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bloody.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The camera drew close, showing white hairs tangled in the fingers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The TV audience laughed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The camera followed a giggling
Agatha down the hallway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In one hand was
a knife, in the other a hammer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A shot
of her face showed a bloody grin, her eyes moving independently of each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The screen faded into different colors, 70's
psychedelic effects, urgent whispering on the soundtrack, things Bryan could
almost make out but not quite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She went
into a bedroom where a couple already lay dead in a blood-soaked bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a shot of the man's bloody, staring
face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She fitted the claw end of the
hammer into his mouth, and the film cut away to a shot of a police car driving
down a dark street, sirens and lights going, the red lights superimposed over
blood pouring over a pillowcase as the siren grew too loud and warped.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bryan couldn't believe this film
had gone unseen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He planned to find the
president of the film club, find out who owned the print, and work out some
kind of DVD release.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had little
knowledge of how to go about such a thing, but even with the film in
less-than-perfect shape, someone could make a fortune off of this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had an atmosphere he'd never encountered
before, and it was working on him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
had been a long time since a film had actually scared him;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>this one was doing it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He felt half-here, half-not, trapped in a
dream.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He glanced around the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone else was gone, except the guy with
the rigored smile, who was now sitting in a different seat, still unmoving,
like a prop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bryan frowned; he hadn't
heard any movement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And why had the guy
changed seats?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He still couldn't see
into the back corner to see if the first guy was still there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He supposed the film's vibe was too intense
for the others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was almost too
intense for him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There was a blurred shot of what
looked like a bunch of raw meat, and Agatha, her eyes and teeth gone silver,
suddenly vomiting live mice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wasn't
sure how they did the special effect but it was particularly repulsive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The director -- Paul Reed, wasn't it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-- must have had some severe issues mixed in
with his genius.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bryan had never seen a
film with a feel like this one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
overwhelming, immersive.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Psychedelic lights swirled.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Agatha's body, swollen, burst
open and spilled larvae from within, a maggot bloom, and she stumbled through
the house, spilling them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They writhed
everywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A shot of a white wall veined
with blood splatter cut to a close-up of her bloodshot eye, blank with
madness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Flashes of bodies undulating in
a forest, some smoking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One looked
exactly like the potato man who'd been outside the motel, exactly, and Bryan
was confused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had some film cultist
planned that, too, like the clowns in the stairwell?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Early trick-or-treating as The Potato Man?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Agatha's point of view,
hallucination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dark neighborhood, the
camera prowling through it on a tilt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Colors flashed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lights strobed
over wide eyes, bared teeth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The soundtrack
hissed, laughed, squealed, forward, backward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bryan felt cold, dizzy, manipulated.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There was a scene with the
police discussing where "the senile old bitch" could possibly
be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I'm almost afraid to find that
baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jesus," one of them
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then the police radio reported a
human arm found in the street in Meadowbrook neighborhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The police, faces grim, turned on their
lights.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A dimly lit scene of some place
where reflections coming off of water swam marbled upon slimy walls and the
slow slosh of Agatha -- just a black shape in a deeper blackness -- wading
through water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some flooded Hell, Bryan
supposed, one of the circles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Roaches
scuttled in masses through what little light there was, and the water-light
showed the walls were practically living.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>God, how had they </i>filmed<i>
this?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>There was no CGI back
then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They'd asked a lot of this
actress.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Agatha was climbing stairs
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Crazy things were painted on the
walls, clowns and smiles and daisies, and Bryan stared at them, trying to make
them out and memorize them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He'd take
another look at the graffiti in Reiger Hall's stairwell on the way out, while
he took pictures with his phone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone
had definitely been inspired by this film, and maybe some time ago, because the
graffiti in Reiger's stairwell looked old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Had Paul Reed gone to this college?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Maybe that's why they had a print of the film when no one else did.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Or had it been filmed in
Reiger's stairwell, perhaps?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It looked
familiar.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bryan felt things crawling on
him and he jumped and swatted at himself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He felt wet little globs, like cold lumps of fat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He couldn't see what they were in the dark,
but he felt sick at their touch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
looked around the auditorium, and the waxy smiling guy was still there but now
he had his back to the screen.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"What the fuck?" Bryan
whispered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He looked back to the screen and
got a glimpse of what looked like his own face.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He sat back down and stared,
feeling something had gone very wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The screen was flickering, dim flashes of a room, and a man sitting in
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He couldn't make out the man's face
but stared at it, blood singing in his ears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Flashes of light showed him features he'd seen in the mirror.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Am I asleep?</i> Bryan
thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>I must be dreaming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I should leave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can't.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<i><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></i>More things were crawling on
him and he tried to brush them away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
soundtrack played the laughing song again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Something was coming through the
darkness on the screen behind the man, becoming gradually visible in the
darkness like a corpse rising from the bed of a muddy river.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Terror seized Bryan like a cold fist and
squeezed so he couldn’t move.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
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reek of ferment and bloat, rusty and wet from the basement, and he was choking
on the stench before he felt her nails in his neck and the film went black and
ripped with a great crackle it bubbled and melted and the squirming was all
over and everything was bright then black and then he wasn't there to see it.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pray for Bryan, burning in Hell.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>THE<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>END</h3>
Zwolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02364540771153476179noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-89953356126423707872016-03-06T16:59:00.000-06:002020-02-11T08:27:13.455-06:00Gone Shootin'<br />
Short story time, kids! I know it's not Halloween, but this isn't a horror story, it's an action/crime deal. A badass-biker-chick story, to be specific. As a little background, sometimes I write on an endless action-series type post-apocalypse novel (affectionately known as the roadwarriorbullshit) and one of the main characters in it is a biker chick named Morgan, who used to be a criminal before the war. The hard-life skills she learned made her particularly suitable for survival in the post-apocalypse wasteleand. <br />
<br />
Well, I was listening to a certain AC/DC song and this story built itself in my head, and I decided it'd work well as a "prequel" kind of story, an episode from what Morgan was doing before the war. Don't worry, you don't have to know anything about the roadwarriorbullshit for this to work, it's totally independent... which is a good thing, since nobody else has copies of the roadwarriorbullshit, anyway. In any case, I've tried to layer in as much high-octane badass as I can manage into this sumbitch, and, hopefully, it'll be entertaining enough to be worth your time. As always, feedback would be wonderful, so if you have anything to say, please do so.<br />
<br />
And as is usual with posting short stories, here's a table of contents for other works available on this site:<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
KickerOfElves:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/rigor-mortis.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Rigor Mortis</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/men-with-knives.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Men With Knives</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Profbolt:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/08/east-of-rulesville-guest-short-story.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">East of Rulesville</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My stuff:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-night-is-filled-with-maniacs.html">The Night Is Filled With Maniacs </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/10/665-1.html">665</a> + 1</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/creak.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Creak</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2014/10/shrouded-in-rain.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shrouded In Rain </span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2013/11/bodies-not-recovered.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Bodies Not Recovered</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/10/scribblebones.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Scribblebones</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/long-tall-sally.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Long Tall Sally</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2011/10/shik-chuff.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Shik-Chuff</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/11/damp-basements-of-heaven.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">The Damp Basements of Heaven</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2010/10/up-stairs-where-windows-are-painted.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Up The Stairs Where The Windows Are Painted Black</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
And <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2009/10/pleasant-dreams.html"><span style="color: #cc0000;">little descriptions of actual nightmares I’ve had</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;"> </span></div>
<br />
<br />
If you like this story, please read some of those!<br />
<br />
Now, here's a little soundtrack while you read.... play it loud and often.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<h2 class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>GONE
SHOOTIN'</h2>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Even
though she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, the girl scared Eddie
more than Mikey Bendix did, and Mikey B. had once killed a guy with a
hammer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her eyes were a bright grey, as
close to chrome as human DNA could swing it, made more shocking by being
combined with long brown hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
seldom got eyes like that out of anything but a Scandinavian blonde, and even
then it was rare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was Viking-sized,
at least six feet tall and built into it, lean but with shoulders that looked
like they could pull an engine block.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She'd looked at him once since she and Mikey walked in and he hoped she
didn't do it again; it was the first time he'd ever felt that way about a
woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No female had put fear in him
since his mama, and he didn't like it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yeah, Mikey was scary, but this
girl had a presence, easy menace coming off of her like a cold front, and Eddie
suddenly felt that he was in the middle of a really bad idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He hoped Mance and Buster would feel it, too,
and pull the plug on their plan, let the deal go straight.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"This looks like really
good shit," Mance said, having to shout over the AC/DC blaring on the
stereo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mance liked to "direct
scenes" like he was making a movie, so he soundtracked everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But more importantly, the pounding rhythm
would mask other loud noises.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When your
neighbors are full-patch members of Jackal's Den MC, you don't complain about
the stereo being too loud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You don't
report gunshots, either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He held a large
meth crystal in front of his clear blue eyes, squinting, his wide, fat face
screwed up in an admiring wince.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"I'm used to cloudier than this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My compliments to the Mad Doctor."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Only place you'll find
better is on <i>Breaking Bad</i>, and that shit's fiction," Mikey said,
grinning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Knock you so high your Journey
albums'll start sounding good."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mance frowned at him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I'm insulted that you'd think I've even
got any Journey albums.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You 'n' me may
have to step into the street."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mikey snorted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"That shit'll get you so banged out you
might buy some.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You do that stuff, best
unplug the Internet first, or no telling what kind of shit Amazon'll surprise
you with three days later."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"You talk it up good,"
Mance said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He dropped the crystal back
in its little baggie and head-jerked some hair out of his eyes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"And it don't even need
it."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The girl sighed, and Eddie
decided if she could get bored during a hundred-and-sixty-thousand dollar drug
deal being made with a gun freak like Mance Rayburn then she was a very
cold-blooded piece of work indeed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mance
noticed the impatience and looked at her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Baby's all business," he noted.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Yeah baby is," she
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Make it move,
huh?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She waved a hand at
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was wearing gloves, which was
normal enough for a biker chick, but people who showed up for meets wearing
gloves made Eddie nervous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you
planned on things going friendly you wouldn't be concerned about keeping your
fingerprints off a scene.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was like she suspected what
they were planning to do.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Eddie was glad Mance would be
doing the shooting. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn't think he
could kill anything so gorgeous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
halfway hoped they might keep her alive long enough to rape her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He'd never raped anybody before, wasn't
really inclined to it, but she seemed like a good place to start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It'd be a way to conquer the fear of her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Yeah, okay," Mance
said, sounding a little surprised that anybody was talking to him that way,
much less a chick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mance didn't like
people being unimpressed with him, and he shot Mikey a long look.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Morgan doesn't like drugs,
is all," Mikey explained.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Really?" Mance
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"You're in the wrong
business, babe."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Today I am," Morgan
said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Doc was gonna come with me
today but he had some court thing," Mikey said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Drugs aren't Morgan's usual area."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"What is Morgan's usual area?"
Mance asked, looking at her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"At
risk of not 'making it move' for a second."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Thievin'," Morgan
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Mostly cars, bikes."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Cars?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mance said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Don't see many girls doing that."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"The size of my demographic
doesn't concern me," she said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mikey smiled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since somebody had hung his jaw crooked, it
did nothing to make his face look friendlier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Morgan's not like most girls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If Satan had an ol' lady, she'd be it."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Yeah, I can see that
much," Mance said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"At first I
thought Victoria's best-kept secret had walked in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Good lord.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You are one stunning woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've
never seen anything like you."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Morgan looked bored with the
compliment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Un-fucking-reachable.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Almost beautiful enough to
get away with acting like a cunt," Mance added.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morgan
remained dead-eyed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mikey shook his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I wouldn't, man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hey, let's just count the money, eh?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Yeah, count away,"
Mance shrugged, kicking the duffel bag toward him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"It's all there, but, by all means,
verify."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was while Mikey was peering
into the cash that Mance pulled the .44 Magnum from the couch cushions and shot
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A fistful of Mikey's head landed
on the bed in the room beyond and Mance turned the Magnum toward Morgan just in
time to catch a round from the Detonics she'd quick-snaked from the small of
her back; it hit his chest and turned on a faucet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pouring, he bounced back onto the couch and
it was the last moving he did.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Eddie froze in the thunder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Buster didn't.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Buster, a wiry little guy with a face that
was all nose and receding hairline, snatched up the cash and the drugs and
streaked for the door like the weasel he resembled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morgan snarled at him but also had to keep
track of Eddie, so Buster made it out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Even over the whistle in his ears, Eddie heard Buster's bike firing
up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morgan made an animal sound of
anger and turned back to Eddie, oh-shit grim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He reached for the shotgun propped behind the speaker but she railed a
boot into his face, hard, and the room was full of grey fireworks that tasted
like pennies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He tried crawling through
them but she took hold of his leg and did something really bad to his knee, a
twist and then a strike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He screamed,
and the fireworks went spectacular.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When he swam out of the darkness
she was on him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was getting a better
look at those frosty eyes than he could handle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Absurdly, even through the blood in his
nose, he noticed how good she smelled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"No time to look for anything to tie you up with," she hissed
at him, "so we'll improvise."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She bunched his hands together, like praying, and laid them against a
baseball bat she took out of the corner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then she came down hard on them with her knee, and put all her weight
into rolling forward, then back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His
hands made noises like bubble wrap and the pain from them made his knee feel
like nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He squealed, surprised he
could even make such a sound, and tried to scramble away from her, but she
hauled him back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Nah-ah," she
growled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"You got talking to
do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where's that fuck going?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She tilted her head toward the door.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"How do I know?" he
rasped.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"You make an educated guess
or you 'n' me play patty-cake," she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She picked up one of his hands and squeezed it, and he made that noise
again and curled up around it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His
hands looked like empty gloves that had been wrung out to dry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They wouldn't unroll, he couldn't make them
do anything but tremble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morgan leaned
down over him, smiling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her teeth were
perfect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course. "Again, same
question."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Probably Hi-Ho
Silver's," Eddie yelped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Or
home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fuck, I don't know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That part wasn't planned."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Where's he live and what's
his name?" Morgan asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Buster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That might even be his real name, I never
heard any other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Buster, ahhh...
Fredricks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lives in a yellow house,
across the street from the Walgreens."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Drug dealer on every
corner in this town, huh?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morgan
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"That's a joke, you can
laugh." </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"No I can't," he
grunted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pain in his hands and knee
and face were washing through him, overloading him, and he felt panic rising to
meet it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He just wanted her away from
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He couldn't stand to have her hurt
him anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was the devil.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Some people got no sense
of humor," she said, standing up and looking at the scene.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She found the brass her Detonics had kicked
out and pocketed it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Unlucky for
you, I'm one of 'em."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She stepped
over Mikey's body, then looked at Mance's, her back to Eddie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Feel free to pick up that
shotgun," she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"See what
happens."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"No way," he
grunted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His hands wouldn't do
anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were swelling like a
couple of Mickey Mouse gloves and he wondered how many surgeries he'd need
before he could handle a fork again, much less a shotgun's recoil.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"More for me, then,"
Morgan said, reaching over him and taking the shotgun from behind the speaker.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a double-barrel sawed-off, an ugly,
ridiculously short thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She pressed it
to Mance's bullet wound and triggered both barrels with a hideous ear-slapping
bark, then shoved it into Mikey's hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The room was whistling, so she had to shout.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Hi-Ho Silver's?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You're sure of that?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I'm not sure, no, how can
I be sure?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eddie gasped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"But the fucking rat ran out on me, I
got no reason to protect his ass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Buster's on the dumb side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He'll
end up there, to tell Spike what he did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He follows Spike like a puppy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He's a hang-around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Trying to get
a patch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wants a patch more than
anything."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Soon he'll want to just stop bleeding more
than anything," Morgan said, picking up Mance's Magnum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Ah, the ol' Smith & Wesson model
29, Dirty Harry's gun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every bad dude
since 1971's gotta have one, impractical sonofawhore that it is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So where's the full-auto shit?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"What?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She tilted her head,
questioningly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Automatic
weapons."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She huffed like a
Thompson running through a drum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Machine-fucking-guns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where
they at?'</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I don't know."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She stepped over to him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"A big arms dealer like Mance Rayburn
without class three ordnance?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Come <i>ahhhhn.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don't make me hurt you again, dude, the way
you screech makes me a little sicky."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I swear to god, I don't know!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He's on every cop's radar, he wouldn't keep
anything like that in his apartment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
keeps all his shit warehoused somewhere."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Got no time to search, anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, you better not be lying to me, or...
well, nothing, I guess, since you're going to be safe from
consequences."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She looked at
Mance's body, then back at Eddie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"He sure was a mean sonofabitch, killing you and Mikey that
way."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Wha..." Eddie said,
and Morgan shot him in the face with the Magnum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She barely glanced at him, not really wanting
to see what the bullet did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
enough to take Dirty Harry's word for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She wound the Magnum back into Mance's hand, tied her hair back in a
ponytail which she tucked in her tee-shirt, then went into the bedroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She avoided looking at the hairy chunk of
Mikey's head on the bed as she dug a red plaid lumberjack shirt out of a pile
of clothes and put it on, as well as some RayBans and a cap that, ironically,
advertised the kind of shotgun ammo she'd probably used to mask Mance's wound
channel. A quick search for money uncovered a .357 Python in a night-table drawer; deciding it could come in handy if the cops got busy and she had to ditch her Detonics early, she shoved it in her waistband.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As she stepped out of the
apartment into the sunlight, Bon Scott yowled, "Gone shootin', my baby
gone shootin'" from the stereo.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Yeah baby is," Morgan
mumbled, heading to her Harley, taking a sad glance at Mikey's.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A clock had started in her head with the
first gunshot, and there should be sirens in the distance by now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All she heard, though, were kids yelling at
each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This <i>was</i> a bad
neighborhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe a slightly better
one now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She started the bike and
throttled with a hand still numbed by the recoil, wheeling out of the
neighborhood, fast but not hey-look-at-me-and-remember-it fast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ice of fear was thawing inside her, and
as usual she hadn't let it control anything, forcing it to only make her more
calm and clear-headed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was an old
trick her daddy had taught her, and he'd been very sorry once she learned it
because then his fun was over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She hoped the shotgun blasts
she'd put into Mance's bullet wound would be enough to foul the ballistics
readings for the pigs, because she had more business to do with her gun before
she could dump it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With luck they'd
lose her slug amidst all that .00 buckshot, since they wouldn't be looking for
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She hadn't been crazy about Mikey,
but he'd been a partner, and nobody burned Morgan Stack and went without heavy
payback.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If your rep went bad you'd
spend all your time trying to rebuild it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Precedents couldn't be allowed to stand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it worked once, some fool would always
want to see if it could work again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In another neighborhood a couple
of miles away she stuffed Mance's shirt and sunglasses and hat into a
dumpster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few miles after that she
undid the ponytail and let the slipstream shake it out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There was nothing in the
driveway of the yellow house across from Walgreens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some mail in the mailbox was addressed to
Richard Fredericks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Good boy, Eddie</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She thundered the Harley to Hi-Ho Silvers
and parked it out front.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were a
dozen or so bikes and as many cars in the lot, even though it was early afternoon,
not optimum hours for a strip club.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But,
boys liked watching high ho's dance any time of the day, didn't they?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She stepped into more AC/DC
booming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Bikers sure do love their
AC/DC,</i> she thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Stuck in a
rut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You'll take 1978 when you pry my
old dead fingers from it.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Morgan Stack!"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fat Bob, the manager, greeted her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Don't tell me my dreams have come true
and you're here to apply for a job!"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He showed off his gold tooth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
had something engraved on it but she'd never wanted to get close enough to the
Ron-Jeremy-looking creep to determine what it was.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Okay, I won't tell
you," she said, walking past him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Much as I love lyin'."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Don't tell the other
girls, but if you ever <i>do</i> want to work here, I'll pay you twice what
they make.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hell, I'll go triple just to
see that cooch."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>By way of a don't-give-a-damn,
Morgan took a handful of his face and shoved hard, and he fell against the
bar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She didn't bother to watch the
slapstick, scanning the room for Buster.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Fat Bob snarled to himself and
said, "I don't know what you're thinking, bitch..."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Yeah, you don't, or you'd
be running."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She glanced at him and
smirked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Waddling, whatever."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"You made a mistake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm not the kind of guy who'll take that off
a woman."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She sighed and gave him her
eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Option one is learning to
deal with the idea that, yeah, now you are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Wanna hear about option two?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's
loud."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He looked away and shook his
head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Goddamn, you're in a nasty mood."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Only all the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Couldn't really blame anybody if they steered
clear of me."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He went away, and Morgan perched
on a stool and watched the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Richard
"Buster" Fredericks wasn't here, but maybe he'd show up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His Jackal's Den sponsor, Spike, was across
the room in a booth with some other guys, so he hadn't been talked to yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Buster wouldn't be blabbing much yet, she
thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He'd been involved in a murder
and would be figuring out what to do about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was a possibility he might not show at all, just jet with the
money, and if that was the case she'd have a harder time tracking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She'd still do it, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Otherwise suspicion might fall on her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two people had walked out of that room and
one of them had the money.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Either she
got it back to Mikey's club or it was her word against an absent Buster's, and
she didn't like the feel of that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With
three bodies racked up over it, Jackal's Den and Ghost Patrol would both be
after her if that money stayed gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And she was bad news, but nobody was bad enough to handle that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Her blood pressure felt like it
was running in overdrive, but she forced it back to calm, using her old tricks.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Stupid dope deals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She hated them and was mad at herself for
going along.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mikey wasn't that great of
a friend and now she'd killed two people and would probably kill at least one
more before the day was out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And even
though she'd done it a few times, murder wasn't her preferred method of
business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She just liked to steal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A more acceptable level of risk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With stealing they let you out someday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the guilt was easier to wrestle down.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She watched a girl dance through
Led Zeppelin's "Moby Dick."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She wasn't good, but it was a bold choice, and nobody was really
watching, anyway, too busy gossiping like a bunch of bridge club ladies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was louder and dirtier but it was the same
damn thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One table full of guys was
talking about her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She couldn't hear
them, but they kept looking over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sooner
or later one of them would come over to collect a go-to-hell and that would be
that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Annoying, but it was
inevitable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was a thing for guys to
dare each other about.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Even though she didn't enjoy
being here, Morgan knew how to wait.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She'd seen far too many people louse things up by getting impatient, so
waiting was a skill she'd mastered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If
it was worth it she could outwait a tree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Eddie had been too afraid to lie, and if Buster was such a remora for
Spike, he'd show up before too long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Biker club prospects, there were few things as pathetic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Love me, love me, like a puppy on its
back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They'd degrade themselves to get a
brother more than they ever would for a woman.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Time passed and she kept a lid
on her sense of desperation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Young
girls danced to songs older than them, daddy issues set to daddy's music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the guys from the table got up and
headed over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was handsome enough but
Morgan wasn't tempted; she'd gotten too much sex when she was eight for it to
be a big motivator now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Hey
now," the guy said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I was
wonderin'... if you can guess the number I'm thinking of, I'll marry ya."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Morgan flipped him a bird.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Aw, you must've heard it
before," he said, grinning.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She sighed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Dude... if that <i>ever</i> works on a
girl, don't take her home with you, because she'll be crazy."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Well, crazy's kinda what
I'm looking for."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"The kind you're looking
for ain't the kind I got.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Go laugh with
your buddies over getting shot down, huh?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I'm in no mood."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Okay, baby, okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sorry I bothered you."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"It's alright, you had
to."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The guy sat down and his friends
laughed and pounded on him and Morgan looked off toward the door again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another song went by and a little boy
dressed as a cowboy ran past and started trying to climb up onto one of the bar
stools.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably a stripper's kid,
bending the bar rules to avoid having to turn over any of that G-string
stuffing to daycare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morgan watched him
struggle for a minute and he seemed determined, so she got up and lifted him
onto the stool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He laughed and started
spinning.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Morgan sat back down and watched
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn't look more than four, way
out of place here with all the titties bouncing around, not to mention the
occasional fights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was quieter during
the day; at night she hoped they wouldn't let him in at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He stopped spinning and sat
laughing, staring at her, blinking his eyes against the dizziness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She said, "Fake I.D. wouldn't work for
you so you gotta catch a buzz any way you can, huh, pardner?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He stuck his tongue out and blew
her a razzberry.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She scowled and blew him one
back, and he frowned back and held up his middle finger.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Morgan stifled a laugh and shook
a fist at him, and he giggled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She'd once broken the arm
of a guy whose kid had flinched when she did that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lucky kid, not understanding the real thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It'd been more than she could say.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He flipped her off again and she
leaned down on the bar, rested her chin on her arms, and poked out a lip at
him, sadfacing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"That's really not
nice, you know?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doing that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's mean and nasty."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She made an "ick" face and shook
her head.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He blinked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had his full attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably the eyes, they had that effect, even
on kids.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Yeah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You shouldn't do that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Be a nice boy."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He reached out and started playing with
Morgan's hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"And don't let
anybody tell you that a nice boy's not a good thing to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Okay?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Okay."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Good start."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She smiled at him, then glanced toward the
door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Well, look what the cat dragged
in, and the coroner's gonna drag out.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Buster was looking nervous, eyes
darting everywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He hadn't spotted
her yet in the neon gloom, and she didn't want Spike to see him before she got
to him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Patting the kid on his cowboy
hat and saying, "Seeya, pardner," she beelined through the sparse
crowd, slipping out her buck knife and palming it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had Buster by the arm before he spotted
her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked up, alarmed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A weaselly little guy, Morgan was about half
a foot taller than him, and they both felt every inch of it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Hiya, Buster," she
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Let's go somewhere where we
can have us a lil' chat."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
shoved him toward the door.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He tried to wrestle his arm
loose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Leggo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ain't gotta go anywhere with you," he
squeaked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Morgan sighed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"That's right, you don't.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You could stay here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Right</i> here."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She snapped the knife open, let the light
from a nearby Miller Draft sign lick off its wickedness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Hey now," he said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Heyyyyyy," she
purred, steering him out the door into the sunlight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Hey hey hey."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"We ain't gotta do it like
that," he said, nodding down at the knife.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Nope, but it's
quieter."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She gave him a little
poke with the blade and sucked through her teeth to make a slitting sound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Don't worry, I'm real good with it."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"No, I mean..."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I know what you mean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also know you and your buddies killed Mikey
and had intents and purposes to kill me, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kinda shit that pisses me off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kinda shit that makes what you mean not mean much to me."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"No, not me!" Buster
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I was never gonna!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That's why I ran!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could've shot you!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was supposed to..."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Turns out you should've,
then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Saved yourself a lot of trouble
down the line."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I wasn't wanting to kill
nobody!"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Then you were in a
situation you should have kept yourself out of completely, dumbass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Either do it or don't.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Plan A-and-a-half never pans out for
anybody.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where's the crank and the
cash?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Can't give you that,"
Buster said. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Morgan looked at him
quizzically.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eddie had said Buster was
on the dumb side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Excuse me?"
she laughed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I gotta give it to Spike."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Did Spike know about
this?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morgan wished she'd taken
longer to toss Mance's place for automatic weapons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the fuck-over was that big she might need
one to even it up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Naw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naw, it was all Mance's idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But he said for sure we gave him that
hundred grand <i>and</i> the dope, Spike would give me my colors."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"You want colors?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'll give you colors."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morgan nicked his neck with the knife.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"You don't gimme that green then I hope
you like red.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Christmas gonna come
early for one of us."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Can't do it," Buster
said, shaking his head and backing away, panicking as Morgan shoved him around
the corner of the building.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Can't!"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Suddenly
frantic, he swung at her, and she slipped under it but he managed to bull into
her and shove her down, then fired a kick into her stomach, doubling her
up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then he was off, running.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Christ, the balding little prick
was good at rabbiting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morgan got up,
snarling, sweeping her hair out of her face in time to see Buster fling himself
onto his bike and roar out of the parking lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Cursing, she ran to her Harley, stomped it to life, and rocketed after
him, throttling so hard the big bike almost shot out from under her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She dropped back into the saddle and gunned
it with such force it wheelied as it took to the highway.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Buster had a good lead, but
she'd built this panhead hot and felt sure she could take it from him if a cop
didn't see them first... but at this speed they'd attract a lot of
attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bikes were howling like
furies.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Buster kept looking back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His body language on the bike was all
fear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe he'd be too scared to just stop in some
public place where she couldn't shoot him or beat him down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Keep him running to someplace private, that
was her job.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As she closed the gap she
spotted the duffel bag hung over his sissy bar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Thanks, you ratfaced
fuck.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She knuckled down and the
bike rumbled through its shotguns, wind lashing at her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bike was doing its thing as she fed it,
closing in on Buster's lead fast, asphalt going under her like a wash of
static.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was on some stock junk,
fenders and shield and all, and she had him outclassed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In desperation, Buster hooked it
into a side road at the last second, risking a foot by stabbing a heel down and
pivoting on it, barely making the dogleg turn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Son of a bitch!" Morgan snarled and her body was already
forcing the bike into the turn before her mind had committed to doing it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her nerves poured her blood a shot of
icewater as the bike took the curve low, tires chirping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a gamble that there was no loose
gravel, but she beat the odds and gunned it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The bike shot forward and straightened up and the coldness warmed up
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Buster looked back and
panicked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morgan grinned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He'd underestimated her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She'd been riding so long the bike was part
of her; motorcycles had raised her, far more than any human had.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She was good and mad now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Laughing mad.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Open wide, they blurred into the
country now, winding it out, white lines flashing by like tracer rounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morgan was close enough to smell the fear on
him and she backed off the throttle, picking a spot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When she had the rat lined up where she
wanted him, she pulled alongside and showed him Mance's .357.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked at her, pale.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She motioned him to pull over but he shook
his head, no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Want me to click
the hammer like in the movies?" she yelled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Will that motivate you?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He just kept going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morgan fired a couple of rounds around him,
not trying to hit him but coming close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She was blessed with a natural sense of pointability and rarely missed
anything she was trying to hit, but the .357's barks had the desired
effect;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Buster flinched and swerved,
right through the ditch and into the trees beyond at nearly a hundred miles an
hour, roostertailing turf and shredding leaves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sound of the crash was like
thunder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bad one.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Morgan braked and pulled back
around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The country road was empty; no
witnesses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If her plan held together,
Buster would be dead from the crash and the local law would write it off as an
accident.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She pulled the bike off the
road behind a bush and followed Buster's debris field, which was
extensive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somebody'd spot that rut from
the road soon enough.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>No luck; he wasn't dead,
amazingly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was in sorrowful shape,
but not bad enough to be reliably dead if she left him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shit.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He was lying there, trembling
and suffering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One leg was on backwards
now; she'd never seen anything like it, it looked like a doll with a factory
defect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His bike wasn't in much better
shape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>New-school stock piece of shit,
wasn't even a shame.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The duffle bag was
still tangled up in it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Buster watched her plant a foot
on the wreckage and tug the bag loose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Gimme your milk money," she said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Buster was gasping in pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Help me," he rasped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Please."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Morgan laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Good one."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"C'mon... it wasn't
personal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn't shoot nobody.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wasn't gonna."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"'I'll never do it again,'
said the liar."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He trembled like he was freezing
to death in the sunlight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I
ran.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn't shoot nobody.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ran.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I could've shot you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
supposedta."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Don't do me
favors."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She shook her head and
aimed the .357.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He sobbed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Do it, then!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fucking ghost-eyed cunt!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heartless whore!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wish I had shot you!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cold-ass bitch!"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Go ahead, hurt my feelings
on top of everything else, why not," Morgan said with a pout.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I gotta get my
colors!" Buster yelled, crying now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Yeah, well, here comes
black," Morgan said, then wrecked his face with a round from the
.357.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His body trembled and withered
down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was merciful, really, the shape
he was in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She went back to her bike,
feeling nothing but a gnawing cold, disjointed regret cocktailed with
relief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She checked the duffel - the money
was all there, and he'd stashed the drugs in it, too -- and secured it to her
bike and rode, tossing the .357 Python off a bridge about six miles down the
road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her own Detonics would get
ditched in another town, once she'd secured a replacement.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ghost Patrol's clubhouse was an
old convenience store that had been burned out when some never-happen-to-me
asshole hadn't obeyed the extinguish-all-smoking-materials rule at the pumps
out front.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morgan wasn't a member so
she wasn't allowed in, but that was a technicality guys didn't really try to
enforce with girls like Morgan.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gink, the president, was at a
table playing some game using pistachio shells with a couple of guys she knew
as Clorox and Apehanger Johnny (to differentiate him from Gimpleg Johnny and
Reno Johnny, and a now-deceased guy named PacMan Johnny, whose picture hung on
the wall, looking too friendly to be an outlaw).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another guy she knew by sight but not name
was sacked out on a rotting couch reading an issue of <i>Cosmopolitan</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God knows where that had come from.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The air was rank with sticky smoke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"'Zup, tramps?" she said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Was wondering when or if
you were going to turn up," Gink said, standing up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was a handsome guy, looking too young for
the grey hair he had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of it was in
his beard stubble, making him look a bit grizzled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Cops were just here about Mikey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You okay?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Yeah," she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Cops mention me?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He shook his head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"They don't know a thing about
you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To them it's just some scootertrash
feud, they probably won't even look into it much since nobody 'good' got scragged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Put it down to urban renewal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Damn, I'm gonna miss Mikey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was a hell of a brother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Crazy son of a bitch."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Morgan shrugged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were all crazy sons of bitches, and
right now she was weary of them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"You sure you're
okay?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Worst I picked up was a
kick in the stomach," she said, lifting her tee shirt to check.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A nice big bruise was spread across her
abs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seeing it make it hurt more.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Damn, baby, you look like
the last banana in the store."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She shrugged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"It's alright, nobody remembers giving
it to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've got something for you on
my bike."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"You got back the club's
dope?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or the hundred grand Mikey was
owed?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Smelling a test, she decided to
throw one back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Both.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it was a hundred twenty, wasn't it?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Hundred sixty," Gink
said, smiling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"But we're gonna
call it a hundred forty just because I like your style.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, I like your everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You and me should hit the town
sometime."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"What's the point?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It always gets up again."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They walked out toward the bike.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gink laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"You're not used to things you hit doing
that, are you?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Baddest bitch I ever met
in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One tall, cold drink of
water, you are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really thought you
were going to take that money and abscond.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was worrying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Didn't want to be
the one chasing you."</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Guess there's honor among
thieves after all," Morgan said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"Or I just don't want to tangle with two biker clubs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not at once, anyway."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gink laughed at that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Don't know if you guys will have
trouble from Jackal's Den or not, but from what the rat told me the whole thing
was Mance's deal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He sold it as a
surprise for Spike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most likely it was
going to be a bigger surprise for his partners and he was planning to be the
one absconding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And you may want to put
out word that the hangaround they're going to find was trying to run off with
the stuff, and somebody unknown didn't let him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I don't know if Mance was dealing independently or if that was club
business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the Jackals bitch, give
them their crank, make it a straight deal."</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gink nodded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"We'll smooth it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mance was a known asshole.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think the only reason he was keeping his
patch is nobody wanted to kick out a guy who had that many guns."</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Tell me how it went
sometime."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She transferred twenty
grand from the duffel bag into her own saddlebags and handed him the rest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Buster had stashed the drugs in with the
cash; a bonus for Ghost Patrol.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"So where you going,
gorgeous?" he asked, watching her swing a long leg over her Harley.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Away."</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Been there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Didn't like it."</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Morgan shrugged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"It's the best place to be this time of
year."</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Well, best of luck to
you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope we meet again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's always a pleasure to see you,
Morgan."</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She shook her head and gave him
a long, direct look.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"You've never
seen me."</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gink nodded, and Morgan fired
her bike, pointed it out of town, and she was gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gone, gone, gone.</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>THE
END</div>
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Zwolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02364540771153476179noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7855076037924078503.post-85506935481184919412015-11-29T19:46:00.001-06:002015-11-29T19:46:22.620-06:00Bikers, Bad Dudes, And A BitchWhile my insanely-unreliable computer is connected to the net (for once in a blue moon) I figured I'd leave it on for a couple of days so I could fit in another blog post. So, when it rains it pours, I guess. If you missed the horror fiction reviews, <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2015/11/we-all-live-and-die-and-slowly-rot-in.html">please read them here</a> (just in case they get bumped off the page). This post will cover a bunch of non-fiction books dealing with bad dudes (and a bad chick). I don't always mean "bad" in terms of evil... just capable-of-kicking-your-ass. Although in some cases, it does just mean evil, such as the Bundy and Gacy books. I've been reading a lot of biker stuff lately, so, there's tons of that here. If you'd like more, <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/01/might-tell-you-some-stories-but-i-wont.html">there are also some here</a>, as well as another Buford Pusser book.<br />
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Now, onward into dangerous territory... so I can finally turn off this computer.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Vagos, Mongols, and Outlaws: My Infiltration Of America’s Deadliest Biker Gangs</b></span> - Charles Falco, with Kerrie Droban (Thomas Dunne Books, 2013)<br />Faced with a 22-year prison stretch for his involvement in a Bulgarian meth ring, Charles Falco agrees to go undercover and infiltrate the Vagos motorcycle club, collecting info to lead to prosecutions. Not sure waht to do, and not even having a motorcycle, Charles starts hanging around biker bars and meeting Vagos. Even though they always seem a little suspicious of him, they prospect him and he eventually becomes full-patch and even gets busted and spends jail time with them. He -- and other infiltrating agents -- almost get caught several times. Once that assignment -- Operation 22 Green -- is done, Charles (perhaps insanely) wants more, so he gets another assignment -- Operation Black Diamond -- and starts hanging around The Mongols, which leads to him getting patched into The Outlaws instead. Once again, a lot of dangerous situations happen and he and other agents are almost caught, and Charles fears a few times that he may have to kill someone to stop something worse from happening. Reading these books makes you wonder why anybody would really want to join one of these MC’s; you do get strength-in-numbers so only a fool would mess with you, and there is a sense of family for people who often don’t have any other, but you also get made a fool of and put through hell to join (I’m not sure I’d want members who’d put up with the kind of shit these prospects do) and then you end up a slave to the club, having to maybe land in jail for doing things for the club, or get killed fighting it out with guys you have everything in common with except a patch. And most of the “fun” doesn’t sound like much fun, just more constant proving yourself. But I guess some people need to belong to something, and at least it’s better than church, I’ve got to give it that. Well-written without a dull moment, and was later turned into the TV miniseries, <i>Gangland Undercover</i>.<br />
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<br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br />Gods of Mischief: My Undercover Vendetta To Take Down The Vagos Outlaw Motorcycle Gang </b></span>-- George Rowe (Touchstone, 2013)<br />It’s interesting to read this book right after Charles Falco’s <i>Vagos, Mongols, and Outlaws</i>, because Charles appears in it, as do a few of the same Vagos as their paths cross. George Rowe decided (in retrospect probably foolishly) to volunteer to infiltrate the Vagos MC after they beat his friend Dave half to death over a pool game (which seems to be the main thing Vagos fight about) and then “disappear” him once he gets out of the hospital. The Vagos are terrorizing his hometown of Hemet, California, and George wants to do something about it, so the ATF sends him in to prospect. George puts up with an astounding amount of abuse and causes a lot of trouble before managing to get patched in... and then still narrowly manages to keep the patch. It doesn’t sound like a lot of fun to go through but it’s fascinating to read about, and George is a really good writer, making this a good choice for taking on an airplane or a doctor’s waiting room or anywhere else you’ll be trapped and in need of soemthing engrossing -- Big George won’t bore you, guaranteed. Charles Falco’s book is also great but I think this one is even more entertaining because George is a bit more of an asshole. Not that he’s unlikeable -- he’s honest about his faults so you can forgive them -- but he’s kind of full of himself, which gets him in a lot of trouble and trouble is, of course, interesting stuff to read about. George also likes to fight and is good at it, so there’s a fair amount of brawling involved. Where Charles tried to avoid trouble, George seems to be eager to make his next mistake. He gets engaged to a psycho junkie girl, he provokes fights with the Sons of Hell (a Hell’s Angels support club) in hopes of getting a gang war started so there’ll be juicer stuff to bust these guys for when the time comes. George is a big conflicted knot of regrets, vices, bad decisions made in haste, and attitude, and that all makes for a read you can’t put down, so I recommend this book highly. Now I have to read Terry The Tramp’s book and get his side of things, which should be interesting; George paints Terry as a big round clown who shafted the club for money to live off of and support a big gambling habit. Should make for a neat intersecting Vagos trilogy. Anyway, yeah, get this book -- George pretty much wrecked his life for it so that’s the least you can do.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br />Terry The Tramp: The Life And Dangerous Times of a One-Percenter</b></span> - K. Randall Ball (Motorbooks, 2011)<br />First of all, this is NOT a biography of John Terrence Tracy, the more-famous Terry The Tramp of the Hells Angels in the 60’s. From everything I’ve heard about that guy, that’d be one hell of a crazy book that I hope someone will write one day. No, this book is about Terry Orendorff, President of the Vagos MC. I was interested to read Terry’s side of things after reading the way he was depicted in George Rowe’s <i>Gods of Mischief,</i> where, according to George, Terry’s basically a clown who lived off of dues paid by the club (including sales of member’s bikes when they got sanctions imposed on them), which he used to support a big gambling habit after closing down his motorcycle repair shop. Well, none of that is addressed here, but it’s still an interesting book, chronicling how Terry got started being a biker, building a Harley out of an old wrecked panhead and teaching himself from a Harley manual. About the only crime Terry was ever involved in, according to the book, was stealing coins out of a fountain as a kid, but he did engage in a good bit of violence, partially learned from beatings he got from a drunken stepfather, and later from a crazy girlfriend who’d try to shoot him. Terry did some film work on <i>The Glory Stompers</i> and taught Dennis Hopper some things about riding. He built a lot of bikes, joined the Vagos, got in a lot of fights, eventually became president and saw the club through a lot of legal battles, federal infiltrators, and less dangerous (but more strange) problems such as what to do about some guys who took it upon themselves to start their own Vagos chapter in Mexico, wearing homemade patches and riding Kawasakis. Terry helped out brothers who served jail time, lost his own brother to cancer, and suffered health (and financial) troubles of his own. Of course, the book depicts the Vagos as just a motorcycle club, not a criminal organization, with a few bad apples who got in some trouble due to a persecuting law enforcement system that had a grudge against them. Where the real truth lies is anyone’s guess, but I’d imagine it’s somewhere between this book and George Rowe’s and Charles Falco’s. But, that’s only my guess, since I only know what I read. In any case, it’s an interesting booik, although it does get a bit dull during the legal struggles (invariably a low point of these type of books). Terry’s life story and all the motorcycle stuff is great, though. The writing is not bad but it does have odd quirks; I guess Ball is trying to create historical context but he sometimes inserts completely unrelated things at random. In the middle of a story about Terry we get a brief history of how James Brown was moving from soul to funk, or what hits Aretha Franklin was having, or what Roger Corman was doing. It’s strange and awkward and I kept waiting to find out what that had to do with Terry (was James Brown his favorite singer? Not that I can tell). Also the design of the book is really obnoxious, with the text having to fit around random sentences that have been picked out and blown up, like “teaser” text to get you to read a magazine article. It’s obtrusive and a pain to ignore them and read around them to keep up with the narrative. It’s the kind of thing people do to pad out a too-short book, but since this clocks in at 266 fairly-small-print pages, that’s really not the case here, so... I don’t know why the book designers made such a dumb choice. The book has a couple dozen pictures, a few of Terry but mostly other Vagos (including an odd one with Sonny Bono with the club!), so that’s cool. Overall it’s mostly a praise-piece (Terry gets compared to John Wayne a lot) but that’s fair enough in a biography, right? Worth a read.<br />
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<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Outlaws: One Man's Rise Through The Savage World of Renegade Bikers, Hell's Angels, and Global Crime </b></span> -- Tony Thompson (Penguin, 2011)<br />Consistently interesting but rather muddled account of a biker named Daniel "Snake Dog" Boone, who joined a British motorcycle club called The Pagans in the early 80's and ended up as part of the European wing of The Outlaws MC, who are at war with The Hells Angels worldwide. Most of the book is centered on European branches of the gangs, which makes it a little less interesting to me since most of the big trouble happens in the U.S. and Canada. And Thompson is determined to pack in as much MC history as he can so Boone isn't really the focus of the book, and, thus, it doesn't really have one; it's a scattershot conglomerate of histories of the Hells Angels, The Outlaws, The Bandidos, The Pagans (U.S. and U.K. versions -- the difference almost gets Boone killed by some U.S. Outlaw buddies who see his Pagans (U.K.) tattoo -- Outlaws are supposed to kill (U.S.) Pagans on sight to keep them out of their territory. The difference between the U.S. and U.K. also gets Boone in trouble when he wants a cigarette and asks some Outlaws, "Are there any fags in this clubhouse?" It's very informative and it's well-written and never gets boring because these clubs are attacking one another pretty constantly (if usually not that effectively -- a lot of fights have low body counts), but it does meander and doesn't maintain one storyline to follow very well. I found it was best read in short chunks, which is why I quit trying to read it all day at home and read it on my lunch breaks at work instead. Since it's so all-encompassing and focuses on Europe instead of North America, you'll probably want to look elsewhere for the definitive story on the Outlaws vs. Hells Angels conflict, but, in general, it's worth the read. <br />
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<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Street Justice</b></span> -- Chuck Zito, with Joe Laydon (St. Martin's Press, 2002)<br />Autobiography of bodyguard/fighter/Hells Angel/actor Chuck Zito, who is perhaps as famous for beating up other actors as he is for things he's starred in (<i>Oz, Sons of Anarchy</i>, etc.) The book is consistently interesting and Chuck seems like an honorable, honest guy, even if he is a bit of an egomaniac. There's no doubt he's a legitimately tough guy, but it's also clear he's thin-skinned and can't let any insult, no matter how mild, go by without giving somebody a pounding; he knocked John Claude Van Damme out just for saying he "had no heart," for christsakes. Most people would know he was wrong, consider the source, and trust everyone else to know he was wrong, and shrug it off. But, what the hell, Jean Claude probably had a clock-cleaning due anyway. Zito talks about being in the Hells Angels, which I imagine is quite a feat considering he doesn't drink or do drugs and that's a notoriously hard-partying organization. Chuck served jail time for a brother's involvement in a drug deal that he had nothing to do with (Chuck blows his own horn a lot -- and why not, it's his autobiography -- but he does seem honest about things, so when he says he's not guilty I tend to believe him). He also talks about his experience as a bodyguard to such people as Sylvester Stallone, Liza Minelli, Cher, Charlie Sheen, and Mickey Roarke (who comes across as a much nicer fella than you'd expect for such a loose cannon). Chuck shows a lot of respect for those who earn it, and he's fair even to those who don't -- even people Chuck didn't like don't get sniped at much in the book, so it's not mean-spirited. Chuck reveals some vulnerabilities he may not have intended to reveal, with all the stories of how easily provoked to fight he was -- more people get hit in this book than they would if it were an autobiography of Popeye -- but he comes across as honorable, likeable, no-bullshit, and never boring. A great book if you're interested in Chuck, the Hells Angels, or just like reading about fistfights.<br />
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<i>Check out the 1971 "photoshopping" on the cover there... pretty sure that's a transplanted head, there.</i><br /><br />
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<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Twelfth of August -- The Story of Buford Pusser</b></span> - W.R. Morris (Aurora Publishers Inc., 1971)<br />Classic biography of the Tennessee sheriff immortalized in the Walking Tall movie, published while Pusser was still alive. It covers his early life, starting out as a bit of a mama’s boy, growing up to be a high school basketball and football star, then a stint in the Marines (he wanted to make it a career but asthma got him discharged). he came home, got married, worked in a funeral home, had a side career as a professional wrestler, then worked for his police-chief dad as a cop. Through all of this he had struggles with a mob who came up from the infamous Phenix City, Alabama crime rackets; they beat him almost to death once when he caught them cheating at dice, and later tried to frame him and his friends for assault. Deciding to do something about them, he ran for sheriff (barely beating a dead man for the job) and then cracked down on the violent gambling joints and moonshine stills, and in the course of the job he got stabbed and shot multiple times, got rammed by a car and got in car wrecks and brawls, and had to shoot two people. What comes through is a guy who was incredibly lucky about being unlucky -- he repeatedly gets into situations that should have been fatal, but he survives. Of the two people he killed in gunfights, one had a gun misfire while it was pointed at his face. The other emptied his gun at Buford and missed every shot before Buford shot back. He also survives by being able to take a lot of punishment, such as when he got his jaw shot off during an ambush that killed his wife. As the Drive-By Truckers (unkindly) put it, “Some folks just can’t take a hint.” The book was published before the car crash that took his life (possibly the result of tampering, but Buford wasn’t the greatest driver and wrecked a few cars on his own), so for the full story I highly recommend also reading Buford’s daughter’s book, <a href="http://mightyblowhole.blogspot.com/2012/01/might-tell-you-some-stories-but-i-wont.html">Walking On.</a> W. R. Morris also fleshes out the story in <i>The State Line Mob</i> (also recommended), which has kind of a Reader’s Digest condensed version of this book in it. The writing is very simple and folksy-clumsy, but this is still a good book which should be brought back into print; used copies usually go for ridiculous prices. When I got lucky to find a like-new copy for $20 I pounced on it; I thought I’d never get a copy of this one. Glad I did, because it was worth the wait.<br />
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<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Beast</b></span> - Paul Di'Anno (John Blake, 2010)<br />Autobiography of Iron Maiden's original frontman, who turns out to be pretty much of a psycho. Sex, drugs, and violence are all done in excess, and Di'Anno brags about all if it in detail; even stuff he should be ashamed of, he seems to take a weird delight in telling you about. According to Di'Anno he's beaten up (and usually tried to murder) everybody who's ever looked at him funny, drank "enough to drown a dwarf" pretty much every night, snorted more cocaine than Scarface on a regular basis, and had sex with just about every woman he's ever met and usually in lots of half-a-dozen at a time. He's pretty obsessed with his own fame (I don't remember Killers or Battlezone being that huge, but maybe I was out of the loop), and Maiden has definitely had a big influence in his life. There's a lot of braggadocio in this, but also some honesty -- Paul doesn't try to hide that he's beaten the crap out of his multiple wives, even though that's not going to make him look good. His assessment of Bruce Dickenson is pretty fair -- he thinks Bruce is the best singer Maiden ever had, but that Paul's voice works best for the older material and Bruce's for the new. I can agree with that. The writing is raw and full of so much British slang it's almost Clockwork Orange, but it's good to read one of these rock-star autobiographies that were actually written by the subject instead of some ghost-writer. Paul doesn't come across as a guy you'd want to hang out with (he likes to break things, shoot up hotel lobbies with BB guns, piss wherever he happens to be standing, throw his shit around the walls like GG Allin, and you never know what will provoke him to try to kill you) but since you don't go into this book expecting the story of a nice guy (it is titled The Beast, after all), it delivers. If you want sex, drugs, violence, rock and roll, and general insane behavior, you've got it. <br />
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<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br />An American Demon</b></span> - Jack Grisham (ECW, 2001)<br />They say a crazy person isn’t really crazy if they know they’re crazy, but maybe that doesn’t work with sociopaths, because the former TSOL frontman doesn’t take it easy on himself in this memoir, which casts him as no less than a demon. He never comes off as completely repentant -- Jack knows the stuff he did was hateful and wrong but even at his worst he still seems to take an impish glee in telling you about it. And even though it all leads to him being pretty much of a sad sack loser, he doesn’t do a whole lot of self-pity-wallowing, either -- just enough to accurately reflect what he was going through. it’s not a strict autobiography because Jack depicts himself as a semi-supernatural being, visited occasionally by God or the Devil, and with magical powers that let him see other people’s fates or help him escape trouble through un-divine intervention. Those expecting just a scene-report will be disappointed -- there’s not a lot of name-dropping or details about the making of TSOL albums; it’s not about punk rock, it’s about Jack, and it’s admittedly self-indulgent because that’s what Jack’s life was all about -- self-indulgence. There’s not really a lot to explain how he got that way; you gather that his childhood wasn’t the best, but he also depicts himself as such an asshole that you can hardly expect it to be; he got spanked a lot, but he also tried to burn his dog alive, so it could be more cause-and-effect than plain abuse. Through it all, Jack doesn’t blame anything -- he is, simply, a demon. He goes on to desecrate churches and graveyards, burn schools and businesses, burglarize houses (mostly just to make the owners feel violated), beat the hell out of people for very little reason, treat girls like sex dolls, abuse substances, you name it -- he does everything short of murder and really avoids that only by chance, since he did jump up and down on a guy’s head and throw another off a bridge onto the rocks. It’s a pretty disturbing narrative because Jack doesn’t feel bad about any of it (although you get a sense that he trusts the reader to do that for him) and he doesn’t really condemn his behavior -- as a “demon” he kind of glamorizes it, but knows the reader will judge him harshly for it. But you may cut him a little slack just for being redemptively honest. Hopefully he’s better now (he’s become a hypnotherapist, but I don’t think I’d let the dude hypnotize me). Whatever else this book is (or isn’t), it’s extremely well-written and hard to put down; you may be disturbed (god, I hope so), but you aren’t going to be bored. And I’m not even a huge TSOL fan (they really only had one good album and an EP), so you can easily get into Jack’s writing without being a fan-boy.<br />
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<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b>My Dark Places</b></span> - James Ellroy (Vintage, 1996)<br />Crime novelist James Ellroy may be a neurotic creep, but he's an honest one... maybe more honest than some readers will be able to handle. His mother was murdered by a person unknown in 1958, apparently the victim of a date rape that went worse. At the time Ellroy -- already a bit warped at 10 years old -- saw this as kind of a lucky thing because he'd followed his divorced dad's lead in hating his mother and considering her a drunken whore. As he lived with his father he realized the man was a weak, vindictive liar, and became more curious about who his mother really was. He developed an obsession with the Black Dahlia murder case, as kind of an obsession with his mom’s strangled-and-dumped body by proxy. And the whole thing messed him up pretty good; in an autobiographical section he details what a crime-obsessed creep he was. He shoplifted almost everything he owned, ate, or got stoned on. He masturbated constantly (both himself and one of his friends), peeked in windows, and broke into houses to steal panties. His house was so full of dog shit from an un-trainable pet that it ended up condemned. He drank and took drugs (especially eating cotton out of stolen decongestant inhalers that worked as a cheap form of meth) and was a hard-line right-wing racist who idealized Nazis (or at least pretended to because he got attention when he acted crazy). He had sex fantasies about his mom and apparently knew the penis-size of all his male relatives. He read crime novels obsessively and eventually wrote them. That part of the book is train-wreck fascinating and Ellroy’s brutal on himself. Then, thirty-five years or so down the line, he decided he wanted to re-open his mother’s murder case, mostly because he’d been unfair to her and wanted to know who she really was. So he contacted a Detective Stoner (the section on Stoner is a digression on other cases he handled, and it’s interesting but distracts from the real story and breaks the obsessive focus of the book -- there isn’t much of a flaw in this book but what little there is is that) and they doggedly searched for anybody who could know anything about this very cold case. They don’t get many answers but Ellroy does get some of what he needs out of it. Well-written (of course) and fascinating true-crime/autobiography/biography that may be a bit rough for some, dwelling as it does on such warped and unhappy things, but it’s unflinching and, though Ellroy had it rough and got handed a raw deal, he never whines about it or uses it as an excuse... just explanation. Recommended.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> Legion of the Damned </b></span>- Sven Hassel (Cassell, 1957)<br />Autobiographical anti-war novel written by a German soldier from WWII. Sven is not sympathetic to the Nazi cause and hates Hitler, but he’s pressed into the worst kind of service when he deserts and is then sentenced to a penal battalion. His life becomes a hellish nightmare as he and the other prisoners are trained past the point of exhaustion, abused by sadistic maniacs, fed slop and kept in a constant state of fear, all so they’ll be at home in the worst battlefield conditions. Then they’re sent to the Russian front to man a tank. Hassel’s more concerned with finding food or warmth and avoiding mean officers than he is with fighting, and his friends Porta, Old Un, Bier, and Titch are similarly unmotivated, not giving a damn about the Third Reich, just survival and finding a way out of the war. They do get in hellish battles nevertheless, and Hassel ends up captured by the Russians and forced to work in a factory, which the prisoners mostly sabotage. He finally manages to escape that, only to find that his wife’s been murdered by the Nazis. Feeling dead inside, Hassel endures more starvation and misery and terrifying tank duels, but they also have parties with the enemy, and each side fires into empty spaces in no man’s land to keep up the pretense of fighting and appease the officers, who are the only ones who care about having a war. Then Hassel almost gets killed in a brutal armored train attack that leaves him with shrapnel in his gut and soaked in a friend’s blood and brains. The hospital does surgery on him with barely any anesthesia, but he survives and is sent back to his unit, which is soon down to seven men out of an original six thousand. If you’re looking for a war-is-hell book, congratulations, buddy, you damn sure found it. The writing is good but the narrative gets a bit disjointed because he’s got a lot of time to cover and is just picking representative bits, sometimes without much background info. Also, he’s concerned with army life in general, not just battles, so you should be as interested in stealing chickens or gambling for booze as you are gunfights and shelling. In any case, it’s pretty brutal stuff, and war is anything but glorified. And don’t worry that you’re reading something from the enemy’s point of view; even though they can’t resist typing his name with lightning bolt SS’s on the cover, Sven’s no Nazi type.<br />
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<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br />Killer Clown: The John Wayne Gacy Murders</b></span> - Terry Sullivan & Peter T. Maiken (Pinnacle, 1983)<br />Intensive account of the investigation and prosecution of one of the most notorious serial killers in American history, John Wayne Gacy, who strangled over thirty young men and buried them in his crawlspace or threw them off a bridge. Gacy comes across as an extreme sociopath, palling around with the cops who are keeping him under surveillance, certain to the very end that nothing will happen to him and he’ll get away with it. Even when the bodies are found under his house he tries to shrug it off by saying a lot of people had keys to his place. It’s all told for the viewpoint of the cops and prosecutors, so you get more police procedural than lurid details about the murders, but it’s still unavoidably nasty given the subject matter (such as pumps trying to clear water out of Gacy’s crawlspace getting clogged repeatedly by lard-like rotting flesh). And Gacy’s attitude toward the killings is horrific. As in most true-crime books, the last section -- dealing with the trial -- gets a bit boring, but the first two-thirds give you a lot of insight on how cops conduct long-term investigations. Well written.<br />
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<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Last Victim </b></span>- Jason Moss (Warner Books, 1999)<br />Ambitious high school kid Jason Moss decides he's going to get inside the minds of serial killers by writing them letters, posing as their type of victim. He gets mail back from Charles Manson, Richard Ramirez, Henry Lee Lucas, and even Jeffrey Dahmer... but his biggest response comes from John Wayne Gacy, who even starts calling Jason on the telephone. Jason thought he was smart enough to manipulate these killers, but with Gacy he bit off more than he could chew, and Gacy out-gamed him and subjected him to letters and calls filled with all kinds of twisted perversions (even trying to get Jason to have sex with is own brother). Despite the wear and tear on his mental health, Jason keeps up the correspondence, thinking he's on the verge of some insight. He even agrees to fly to the prison and visit Gacy on death row, believing it will be under safe conditions. It isn't. The writing's pretty simple and Jason comes across as a bit arrogant and unaware of his own naivety, even after the fact, but it’s still a dark, scary book and hard to put down. And Gacy comes across as a real monster, determined to keep following his predator drives right up to the day of his execution. There’s insight into the other killers as well; Manson’s letters were incoherent and rambling, Dahmer’s polite and shy but intrigued (he almost never wrote back to anyone), and Ramirez was a Satanic show-off who thought he’d found a disciple. But Gacy thought he’d found another victim, and in a way, perhaps he did; it’s not covered in the book because it happened seven years after it was published, but Jason Moss eventually (driven by what, no one knows) shot himself in the head on 6-6-06 (you have to wonder if it had something to do with Ramirez because of the date). Dark but compelling stuff, and later made into an equally-dark movie, <i>Dear Mr. Gacy</i>, which is also recommended.<br />
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<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Stranger Beside Me</b></span> -- Ann Rule (Pocket Books, 2009 (first published 1980))<br />Ann Rule’s blockbuster about Ted Bundy is the Winchester Mystery House of true crime novels -- it’s not likely to out of print and so she’ll probably have to keep adding on chapters with new editions for the rest of her life. It’s very well-written and has a unique perspective, since Rule was a friend, co-worker, and correspondent of Bundy’s for years, even while working on this book before Ted was even a suspect. Even though Rule is a bit of a ghoul, making a living writing about murder, she balks at gory details here, so some of the more lurid aspects of Bundy’s crimes (his necrophilia, for instance -- Bundy liked to revisit bodies, put makeup on them, and keep having sex with them) barely get a mention, so if you’re looking for that stuff (and let‘s be honest - those of us who read these books totally are), you may be a little let down. But as to what Bundy was like (as much as anybody can know since he was a sociopath who created a fake persona for the world) or the trials, that’s handled in sharp focus. Rule worked at a suicide hotline with Ted, who seemed like a nice, compassionate, gentle guy. She also wrote articles for detective magazines and became aware of missing-girl cases, writing about them (and discussing them with Ted) before ever even dreaming he was the one responsible. During the trials they kept up heavy correspondence, much of which is reprinted here, and Rule also recounts some of the mail she’s gotten since Bundy’s execution, from women who were picked up by him in the ‘70’s but managed to escape. one thing that strikes you in this book is how easily Ted Bundy got away with things. Girls disappeared one after the other and he made little effort to be inconspicuous, using fake arm and leg casts to get their sympathy (and attract everyone’s attention) so they’d help him and be lured into his trap. He did his crimes with a gold VW Beetle -- a very noticeable car that even people with no knowledge of cars would recognize and remember even if they weren’t paying much attention. And yet he racked up body after body -- exactly how many is still not known; they confirmed 36 but it’s likely in the hundreds, since Ted drove around from state to state, indulging his compulsions, bludgeoning and strangling. The girls tended to be the same type -- long dark hair parted in the middle -- and this seems an attempt to deal with the humiliation of being dumped by a girl named Stephanie. Ted remade himself to get her back, and when he succeeded he promptly dumped her just to get even. But that didn’t seem enough for his sociopathic ego, so he killed dozens of girls who looked like her. Bundy is revealed as a master manipulator, holding off his own execution for years, tricking Ann and hundreds of “groupies” who thought they were in love with him, even jerking around Focus on the Family’s James Dobson by telling him what he wanted to hear (which is fair enough since Dobson’s another (albeit non-homicidal) sociopath who does the same thing to millions). it’s a thick, intimidating-looking book of 625 pages of relatively-small print, but I never had any trouble staying with it. Definitely worth your time.<br />
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<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b> Green River Killer: A True Detective Story</b></span> - Jeff Jensen & Jonathan Case (Dark Horse Books, 2015)<br />Well-done true-crime graphic novel written by the son of Tom Jensen, one of the detectives who worked the Green River Killer case. With exhaustive effort, Tom Jensen keeps trying to get information out of a frustrating, misleading Gary Leon Ridgeway until they can find missing bodies and confirm that Ridgeway actually was the killer. Told in simple, stark, but effective black and white, this reads very fast but packs a lot of emotional impact, blending years of investigation with well-handled time shifts, and focuses more on the emotional hardship of the detectives and the victims’ families instead of Ridgeway, who doesn’t seem to know why he killed, either; he just felt a need to. Well done. <br />
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<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Born Evil </b></span>- Adrian Havill (St. Martins, 2001)<br />Hadden Clark was a weirdo from birth. His mom blamed a bad forceps delivery for his strangeness, and his dad called him “the retard.” That might explain why he’d get confused by patterns in rugs and fall down, but not why his parents -- who’d wanted a girl -- put him in dresses and called him “Kristen.” When kids picked on him their pets would go missing and then be returned to their doorstep, butchered. Hadden had a whole zoo of animals he ended up dissecting. And his brother (who presumably wasn’t a forceps case) wasn’t much better -- he ended up biting a girl’s nipple off during sex and then deciding he’d better kill her, so he did, then cooked and ate one of her breasts before dismembering her in bathtub. He failed to fit all eleven pieces of her in his small car so he kept some in the closet, then tried killing himself but kept passing out during the stabbing. Anyway, turns out he was the good kid in this family. Hadden became a chef but got fired from a restaurant for drinking beef blood. He also used to surround his bed with rotten turtle carcasses that stank up the neighborhood. He got kicked out of the Navy for wearing women’s panties. Eventually his weirdnesses turned homicidal and he murdered and partially ate a five-year-old girl. Then he decided he wanted to be a woman in whose house he was boarding, so he dressed up as her, suffocated her by winding her head in duct tape, and lay in her bed for a while. Eventually the cops caught him, living homeless in the woods, and tried to get him to confess, which he wouldn’t do. After he got convicted he started claiming to have a dozen or so more, but that may be a Henry Lee Lucas syndrome of wanting attention; on trips to find the bodies he has to be dressed as a woman, claiming “Kristen” is another personality. Very weird and fairly graphic true crime.<br />
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<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Burn Farm </b></span>- Michael Benson (Pinnacle, 2009)<br />Sheila LaBarre was incoherently crazy and was known as a local crank for yelling at everybody who came near her New Hampshire farm. She kept using near-retarded hired hands for sex partners, then would beat them until they "admitted" to being pedophiles... and then she'd kill them because she believed she was an angel sent down to cleanse the Earth of pedophiles. She'd record the "confessions" - I guess thinking that'd justify what she did - and then burn the bodies. This book rambles along about the case without building much impetus, and really gives no insight on how Sheila was able to attract any victims at all; she seemed so completely crazy you can't imagine anyone wanting to get within a country mile of this nutcase. The cover copy tries to paint her as some sort of "dominatrix" but it sounds more like flat-out beatings and murder than anything that was supposed to be "erotic." It's a very strange book in that it goes into lots of graphic details about sex (and is preoccupied with telling us, at great length, that Sheila had an abnormally tight vagina, like it didn't grow since she was a child and made sex painful... and then she goes on to have tons of sex?), but despite all of that, the book is prudish about language: I can't remember ever seeing another modern book where the word "fuck" was starred out. Yep, the book is full of "f***"s. Seems like Sheila's not the only sexual weirdo working the room.... Not terrible if you're interested in the case, but not engrossing otherwise.<br />Zwolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02364540771153476179noreply@blogger.com1