Bad Things (23 page)

“They were darker than mine, almost black,” Rick explained. “Delia said that when she looked into his eyes, she could see he didn't have a human soul.”

Audrey's green eyes had grown large. “That's a pretty strong statement for a little kid.”

“Well, frankly, I didn't think he had a human soul either.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Rick, really?”

He nodded, his guts tying themselves in knots. How was he going to tell her more without sounding crazy?

“Why?”

“Because Robin told me so, and I believed him.” He shook his head. “I always believed everything he said, and he claimed he was a little jack who'd possessed my brother's body, and that my real brother was outside with the jacks . . .”

“Don't stop now!” She gestured impatiently.

“Well, when we were seven, Robin pulled a Halloween joke on me that backfired. He took a skeleton mask and climbed out our window into the oak in the front yard to scare me. He wanted me to think he was Big Jack.” Rick clutched the coffee cup to keep his hands from shaking. “To make a long story short, he fell out of the tree and hit his head. After that, he started claiming—but only to me—that he was a changeling or whatever you want to call it. He said what he really wanted was my body since I could see—”
Oh, shit,
he thought,
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

For the first time tonight, he heard them. Had they been calling all along or had his guard just gone down? Or maybe he just thought he heard them.
I hear voices,
he thought.
Oh joy That probably means I'm certifiable. Just what Audrey wants.

Audrey shook her head. “Children are incredibly cruel. You must have been terrified.”

He took a deep breath, grateful that she'd said nothing about his slip. “I was incredibly gullible. I believed it all.”

She reached across the table and took his hand. “Do you still?”

“No. Robin's personality changed when he fell on his head, so I assume he sustained some kind of brain damage.”

She nodded. “Probably. But you still see the greenjacks, don't you.” It was a statement, not a question, but her hand stayed firmly on his.

“N-No,” he replied, flustered. “Like I said, I had a deadly imagination.”

“The other night you told me you didn't want to judge yourself by your brother anymore. You're doing it.”

“I don't understand,” he said dully.

“You saw them, your brother didn't. I bet there are more kids who think they see things than ones who don't. I mean”—she grinned at him—“didn't you ever have an invisible friend?”

“Shelly did,” he answered with relief. “And Cody's just acquired one.” He smiled. “His name is Bob. Bob the invisible friend.”

Their laughter broke the tension.

“My invisible friend's name was Miranda,” Audrey said, “because that's what I wanted my name to be. The cutest girl in school was named Miranda.”

“Cody doesn't know any Bobs,” Rick said thoughtfully.

“Maybe he got it off TV. Bob Newhart, maybe?”

“I'll bet you're right.” Rick stroked one of her fingers. “So you think lots of kids see things that aren't there?” he asked, trying to sound very casual.

“I
always
see prowlers if I let myself,” Audrey confessed. “In shadows at night, my robe hanging on a hook by the door becomes a living, breathing intruder. It moves. My eyes see it. God, I hate sleeping alone.”

He didn't say a word, just sat there and watched the color come up from under her collar, flushing her skin redder and redder until she looked sunburned.

“I wasn't coming on,” she sputtered.

He squeezed her hand. “Too bad.” Seeing the look on her face, he quickly added, “Since Laura died, I've been out half a dozen times, blind dates mostly, nothing serious. Not like . . . What I mean is, I haven't done this in a long time, Audrey.”

“Me either.” She squeezed back.

“Okay if I'm blunt?”

“You'd better be.” She smiled softly.

“I'm in no hurry and I'm not going to rush you. In fact, I want to go slow.” The truth was,
want
had nothing to do with it; he
needed
to go slow.

“An-ti-ci-pa-tion,” Audrey sang softly.

“Yes, anticipation's good,” he agreed.

They sat in silence a long moment. “Rick, you see greenjacks—saw greenjacks.” She stared into her coffee cup. “I've seen a ghost. Have you?”

He thought about it. He'd been so hung up on his own brand of critter that he'd never thought about hauntings. “Um, no, I don't think so,” he said finally. “You saw one, huh?”

Silently she got up and brought the coffeepot back to the table. Her hand shook as she poured. “Yes,” she said at last. She overfilled his cup, slopping coffee onto the table. “Oh, sorry. She reached for a napkin, but he beat her to it.

“Relax.” He blotted the spill. “Tell me about the ghost.”

“I've never told anyone before.”

“I won't tease you,” he promised solemnly. “I'll believe you.”

“I know. That's why I'm telling you, but, Rick . . .” She swallowed. “When I'd been married about a year, my mother died. She hated Ron and she'd begged me not to marry him, but I did anyway.” She shook her head. “We fought and fought and ended up not speaking.

“The night she died, Ron had come home drunk.” She looked down. “He beat me up. It was ten past midnight—I kept looking at the clock. Ron was snoring on the couch. I was in bed, and I hurt so much, I couldn't sleep. He'd punched me in the ribs several times,” she added, her mortification obvious, “and I realize now I had some broken ribs. It even hurt to breathe.

“I hadn't spoken to Mother in nearly a year, and I was thinking about her, about how right she'd been about Ron. I was only nineteen, still so young and stubborn that I couldn't make myself call her and tell her so, but I sure thought about it. I wanted to go home, but my pride wouldn't let me.

“Suddenly I smelled her perfume—she always wore White Shoulders—and I opened my eyes. She was standing by the bed, plain as day. Just standing there looking down at me.” Sudden tears welled and ran down her cheeks.

“God, I'm sorry,” she said, picking up a napkin and dabbing at her eyes.

“It's okay.”

She nodded. “She was dressed in a powder blue suit I'd never seen before, and she was a little plumper than I remembered. I remember what I said. I asked her a question. I asked, ‘Are you going to take me home now?' She didn't say anything, she just smiled and held out her hands.

“I took them.” Her own hands trembled as she spoke, and he took them in his, held them still. “Rick, her hands were as warm and solid as yours are now.

“I sat up in bed and put my arms out, and she sat next to me and pushed my hair out of my eyes like she always used to do. We stared at each other and I said, ‘I love you, Mother,' and she said it back, but, Rick, I was looking right at her. I heard her, but her lips didn't move.”

The hairs on the back of his neck rose.

“She held me,” Audrey said softly, wonderingly, “and told me she loved me over and over.

“The next thing I knew, I woke up. The phone was ringing. It was my father, calling from the hospital. His voice was shaking. It was almost two in the morning. He said Mother had a stroke and she'd died at ten after twelve. There was nothing the doctors could do.”

Silent tears ran down her cheeks, but now she smiled through them. “My mother came to tell me good-bye. I know it.”

“That's beautiful,” Rick said softly.

“Yes.”

Close to tears, he wanted to confess, once and for all, that he still saw them. But he couldn't

Jolted by the scream and the sudden pain Rick's fingers caused as they dug into her arms, Audrey pulled out of the good-night embrace.

“Rick?” He stood there, eyes glassy, chestnut hair mussed from her fingers, the color draining from his uncomprehending face. He didn't seem to see her. “Rick!”

Slowly his head turned toward the staircase, and then the lost look left his features and everything clicked into place. “It's Shelly!” He turned and ran up the stairs, Audrey close behind.

The cry was loud as they rounded the upstairs corner.

“Shelly!” Rick slammed against her door, then grabbed the knob and turned it, practically falling into the room as the door swung open. “Shelly!”

“My God!” Audrey whispered as she entered behind him. Shelly sat in the middle of her bed, clutching her covers protectively around her neck. Her nightstand light cast a yellow glow over the room and the things it held.

On the bed, on the dresser and chest and desk, were toy dogs. All of them were pointed at Shelly as if watching her, and they were all in different positions, everything from begging to lifting a leg to urinate. For a moment Audrey couldn't comprehend what she was seeing, then she remembered Aunt Jade and realized these were the deceased poodles Rick had mentioned. At the time, it was funny; they'd laughed over the story. Now it was horrifying.

“Daddy,” Shelly whimpered. Her eyes were huge, her dark blond hair tangled around her face so that she looked like a little girl.

Rick swept a poodle off the bed with the back of his hand, then he had his arms around his daughter, rocking and consoling her, whispering, “It's all right, it's okay,” over and over again. Shelly's shoulders shook with quiet sobs.

In a few minutes, the girl regained control, She looked up, directly into Audrey's eyes, and suddenly she felt like an intruder. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't be here. I'll go.”

Shelly didn't react for a moment, then she mumbled, “No, it's okay.” Then she made a face. “Man, what a feeb I am,” she added shakily.

“No, you're not, Shel.”

“You won't tell anybody that I screamed and stuff, will you, Daddy?”

“Of course not.”

Audrey jumped as something grabbed her legs from behind.

“Cool!” Cody pushed around her and into the room. “Lookit the doggy rats! One, two, three,” he counted, “four, five, six dead doggy rats. Cool!” He looked at his sister. “Did you steal 'em from Aunt Jade?” he asked, wonder and awe in his voice.

“Of course not, butthead,” Shelly sneered. “And who told you, you can come in my room?”

“You screamed, huh?”

“Up yours!”

“Shelly's a screamer,” Cody sang. “Shelly's a screamer!”

“Cody, be quiet,” Rick ordered sternly. “Do you know anything about these?” He gestured around the room at the dogs.

Cody shook his head. “Uh-uh, no way. I bet Bob put 'em here.”

Cody did it,
Audrey thought.

“Cody,” Rick said, “come clean.” Obviously he, too, subscribed to the theory that a kid blaming an invisible friend was guilty without trial.

But the boy didn't giggle or look away from his father's eyes. “No, Daddy, I didn't do it.”

“Shelly? What happened? Do you remember anything?”

“I woke up. I heard a noise and I woke up. I felt like somebody was watching me, and I wasn't sure if it was from a dream or not, so I turned on the light.” She glared at Cody. “I'm gonna get you, you little turd.”

“Shelly, no.” Rick stood up. “I don't think your brother did it. I think your aunt did it.” He glanced at Audrey as he added, “She's a few bricks short of a load.”

Audrey nodded. Right before Shelly screamed, while they were in the front foyer indulging in a little lightweight necking, weird sounds had come from the old lady's room, moaning and whispering. Rick looked embarrassed and explained that she did that almost every night.

“Come on, Cody,” Audrey said. “I'll see you to your room.'

Rick was gathering poodles and dropping them in an empty packing box still in the room, his face distorted by an expression of utter disgust. He looked up. “Thanks. I'll be there in a minute.”

Cody took her hand and practically dragged her out of the room and around the corner to his room. “Come on! You gotta see my wallpaper! My dad had it too. It's the same paper, I'm keeping it.”

He talked a mile a minute as he took her around his room, showing her his treasures, which seemed to involve Legos and plastic dinosaurs more than anything else. “And you know what? There's secret tunnels in the house.”

“There are?” Rick had mentioned that he'd kept that information from his son. “Who told you?”

“Bob. He's my friend. He talks to me at night. Someday he's gonna show me the tunnels.”

“Come on, you get in bed now.”

“Okay.” He dimpled up at her and jumped into his red race-car bed by the window.

A tree limb just outside scratched the screen lightly.
That's the tree Rick hated.

“Kiss me g'night.”

She smiled and did as he ordered. “Good night, Cody.”

“Is your brother a boy or a girl?” he asked abruptly.

“A boy,” she said immediately.

“How come he has boobies?”

Boobies?
“Well, um, why don't you ask Duane about it when he visits? Or ask your father.”

“Who's Duane?”

“Dakota. His real name's Duane. Dakota's his stage name.”

Cody lay down. “Okay, g'night,” he said.

As she left the room, Rick approached, carrying the box of dogs. He looked upset. “I told Shelly to make sure she locks her door from now on.” He paused, grimacing. “I'm sorry. I'm really sorry about this.”

“Don't be silly,” she told him as they started down the stairs. “It's not your fault. By the way, Cody knows there are passages in the house.”

Rick stopped in his tracks. “He does?”

“He says Bob told him.”

Understanding dawned on his face. “Jade probably told him.” He adjusted the box in his arms, his upper lip curling with distaste. “I'll just have to make sure everything's sealed up.” He put the box of poodles on the floor at his feet. “I can't keep her in control. She must have gone up the front stairs while we were in the kitchen and put these things in there to scare Shelly.” His face clouded.

“But Shelly said a noise woke her up, so it must have happened just before we got there.”

He smiled grimly. “I have an answer for that, too. She went up the back stairs while we were out here.”

“But we heard her making noises.”

“Only for a few minutes when we first came out. We were out here for”—he consulted his watch—“almost half an hour.”

“Time flies when you're having fun,” she said, smiling a little.

“Yes, it does.” He reached for her, and she started to snake her arms around his waist. Then, from Jade's room came a moan, followed closely by Jade's clear, loud voice crying, “Fuck me!”

Shocked, Audrey looked at Rick. He looked back.

“Fuck me.” Louder, more demanding. The words were followed by a series of obscene grunts and groans.

Rick turned beet red, and she was pretty sure she'd done the same.

“Fuck me!”

“Rick? Maybe she has, uh, marital aids? She's not all that old, is she?”

“Early sixties. Carmen told me she takes hormones.”

“Fuck me!”

Audrey snickered. “Better tell the doctor to cut her dosage!”

Rick started laughing, pulling her close and burying his head on her shoulder to muffle the sound. She felt hilarity rising from a tickle in her abdomen, up, up, into her throat, and it exploded from her mouth, gales of it. She clung to Rick, trying to keep quiet, but he was shaking with stifled laughter also.

“What a night,” Rick whispered, his words hiccuping over the laughter. “Fine Italian cuisine, slapstick movies, coffee and ghost stories, and”—he swept one arm grandly toward Jade's room—“and, the
pièce de résistance,
stuffed dogs and sex-crazed old ladies.”

He laughed again, too abruptly to be able to muffle the noise. Audrey would have doubled up if she didn't have him to cling to.

The noises from Jade's room stopped abruptly.

“Oops,” Audrey managed. “She heard us.”

“Yeah.”

“Or she shorted out her vibrator,” she couldn't help adding.

Rick snickered again, and they silenced as they caught each other's gaze. Another good-night kiss was coming up quick.

Before their lips met, Audrey heard a key click in a nearby lock. She and Rick pulled apart, and as she watched the handle on the louvered door start to descend, her legs turned to jelly.

Rick simply picked up the box of dogs. Four stiff pink legs poked out of the top. She couldn't help herself; another hysterical giggle escaped.

The door opened and she beheld Jade Ewebean for the first time. She gasped, then clamped her hand over her mouth to trap the laughter that wanted to escape.

Jade's black hair floated in a tangled mess around a face coated with red lipstick, thick eyeliner, red circles of rouge, and sparkly white powder that had creased into her wrinkles so that they looked like scars. Mascara had smeared beneath her eyes. She looked like Bette Davis in
Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?
The face made Audrey want to scream. It belonged in a house of horrors.

But the tall, bony body made her want to laugh. The woman wore a peignoir set of red polyester and black lace.
Thank God she put on the robe,
Audrey thought, barely controlling herself. It was as sheer as the gown, but the double layer faded her body from what would have been horrific pornography to moderately disgusting translucence.

Rick had moved toward his aunt, and Audrey remained in the shadow of the staircase. The old bat didn't see her, but her reaction to Ricky was amazing.

“Richard,” she crooned. “My sweet little Ricky. You've come to see your auntie, haven't you?”

“Jade—” he began. Immediately she cut him off.

“You're so like your brother, Richard, but you still look like a little boy.” She unbuttoned her robe and let it fall open.

I'm in a Felini film.
Audrey moved slightly so she could see around Rick.
Oh, my God!
she thought, shocked.

Jade's robe dropped to the floor, leaving her saggy body backlit by the lamplight from her room. The gown was short, and even in the dim light, Audrey could see the blue veins knotting her legs. Her gaze traveled upward and stopped. Jade had huge breasts, trussed into the gown's flimsy black lace bra. She squinted, not believing her eyes. A Fredrick's gown, she thought, seeing that the nipples thrust bare from the lace. They, too, were big and damp and lumpy, like two wads of red bubble gum. They looked rouged.

Jade kneaded one in her gnarled hand. “Come to your aunt Jade, Richard. Let's give you a kiss.”

Rick's back had stiffened the moment she'd entered the room, and he hadn't moved since. Now he spoke, so low Audrey could barely hear.

“Don't do that.”

“Why? Are you a bad boy? Got a stiffie for your dear old aunt?”

“You make me sick.” The words dripped cold fury. “There are children in this house, Jade.”

“I don't see any children now, Richard. Come here.” She stepped nearer.

“What you do in the privacy of your room is your business, but don't bring it out here,” he said icily. “If you do this again, I won't even send you to a rest home. I'll have you committed. Stay away.”

She made an obscenely childish face. “You're no fun. You never were. You'd be so nice if you were like your brother.”

“My brother is dead!” He nearly yelled the words, then was silent a moment, regaining control, Audrey realized. “Get out of my way, Jade.”

“What?”

He stepped toward her. “Get out of my way. These belong to you. They belong in your room. I'm going to put them there, and they're going to stay there. If they don't, I don't care about the cost, you're out of here. You scared Shelly half to death.” As he spoke he pushed past her, shoving her out of the way with the box. He disappeared into the room, and Audrey heard thumping as he dumped the dogs on the floor. “Don't upset Shelly or Cody again,” he warned, reappearing in the doorway.

At that moment she spotted Audrey. Jade's painted face was almost comic as it raced through a series of reactions. Then she laughed. It was a horrible sound, like fingernails raking a blackboard. “I see why you don't want your auntie, Richard. You fucked that flat-chested little whore instead.” She sniffed. “You have shitty taste, nephew. Shitty.” She spat in Audrey's direction. “Whore.”

Rick's face had hardened into a stony scowl. He took a step toward Jade, his hands coming up. She couldn't see his face. If she could, Audrey thought she'd run. The open boyishness that so attracted Audrey to Rick had disappeared entirely, replaced by anger so potent that it seemed to come off him in waves. “Rick,” she said tentatively. “Rick, it's okay.”

He ignored her, hands level with Jade's neck, eyes glittering and furiously intent. Another step and he'd be on her.

“Rick!” Audrey cried. “Stop it!”