Authors: J. C. Gatlin
17
End in
Tears
Mallory
drove Kim home late that Friday afternoon. They rode in silence as she pulled
into the complex. Kim rushed to find her keys and headed toward her front door.
Mallory followed right behind her. Flustered, Kim inserted each key into each
lock and slowly unlocked the five deadbolts. Mallory fumed.
“A crazy
mental patient could rape and murder you before you ever got inside,” she said.
Kim
didn't answer as she opened the door,
then
rudely shut
it leaving Mallory on the other side, outside.
Zeus was
waiting for her, but she ignored him too. She was focused on the old recliner
and walked straight over to the black scrapbook and picked it up. She flipped
through the pages of photos and love letters.
All the
handwritten poems.
Her tears splashed onto the pages now mocking her,
smearing the lying words. Screaming, she threw the scrapbook at the wall. It
smashed loudly taking a picture frame with it and split into several pieces on
the floor.
Kim
stared at it. She didn’t move. She didn’t cry. She didn’t breath. She just
stared. A cold hollow overtook her, like clammy hands wrapping around her whole
body, and she walked up the black spiral stairs to her bedroom loft. Zeus
followed her and she embraced him and dropped to the floor. She cradled the
dog, holding his pointed head close to her own, and then broke down and cried.
She cried for a long time before finally
falling into a light and exhausted sleep, right there on the floor.
* * * * *
* *
At dusk,
the rain finally let up and the grounds keeper
strolled
the cemetery in a white golf cart.
Pausing
at the entrance, he shut and locked the gates. Getting back into the cart, he
strolled along the path through the symmetrical rows of headstones. There, he
noticed it: something above the ground that should have been buried beneath it.
Some
fifteen, twenty yards away, two legs lay beside the headstone of a fresh grave.
Had the deceased crawled out? The thought made his skin crawl. He laughed, squinting,
trying to confirm what he saw in the fading light. Then he hopped out of the
cart.
Moving
toward the headstone, he stepped cautiously forward. He approached the legs,
and found the rest of the body lying behind the cement block. It was bloody.
Very bloody.
And the caretaker leaned down and touched the
boy.
Tilting
the boy’s head, he jumped slightly, shocked at the sight. It was a face with a
missing eye. Rain and blood matted the boy’s black hair. And he looked dead.
Composing himself, the caretaker touched the boy's cheek.
Michael
groaned.
Startled,
the Caretaker stood. Stumbling backwards, he ran back toward his golf
cart.
* * * * *
* *
It had
been the longest day of her life, and Kim didn’t care if she ever woke up. But
she did, early the next morning.
The skies
were gray, the wind was howling. She dropped the blinds along the bay window in
the living room and over the smaller windows in the kitchen and in the bedroom
loft. Her townhome became a dark, cold tomb.
She moved
slowly into the bathroom, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She
looked terrible. Her skin was blotchy and swollen. Her pores were large holes
around her nose and below her eyes. Her black hair was a tangle of rats and
frizz. She took an aspirin from the medicine cabinet and swallowed it, then
took another
She
didn’t know what time it was, but she picked up the phone anyway and dialed the
nursing home. Nurse Carla answered cheerfully and sounded excited to hear from
her.
“Why Miss
Bradford, we were beginning to worry,” she said. “We wondered what happened to
you. Your
grandaddy
is missing you something powerful.”
“I’ve got
the flu,” Kim said groggily, her throat hoarse and dry. “I won’t be over to see
my grand-father for a few days.”
Carla
made a long, dramatic
Oooooo-ooooh
. “Feel better,
child,” she said. “You know, my little boy had it last week. There must be
something
goin
’ round.”
Kim gave
a muffled but uninterested, “yeah” then hung up the phone. She went back to
bed.
The next
day, Mrs.
Roundtree
knocked on her door, waking her.
“Rosie
and I were worried about you,” she said through the door. “I made you a
casserole.” Kim told her and the little Pekingese to go away. And when Mallory
called later that night, waking her again, Kim hung up without saying a word.
She only
wanted to do one thing: lay in bed, in the dark, and sleep. She wanted to dream
about Ross and remember everything about him. How he smelled.
The roughness of his hands.
His heartbeat
thudding in her ear when she rested her head on his chest.
Every little
thing they had ever done and everything he had ever said to her. She didn’t
want to ever forget him. She knew she could never really get over him.
At some
point – maybe it was still Saturday, maybe it was now Sunday, she didn’t care –
Kim was woken by Zeus’ barking. He brought his food dish upstairs and laid it
on the floor by the bed.
Wearily,
Kim forced herself up and stumbled downstairs into the kitchen. She felt even
worse than before. Her face was broken out. Her eyes were swollen and crusted
with sleep. Her stomach felt queasy and empty. Her head ached.
She
opened a can of dog food and poured it into the dish, then set it on the floor.
Zeus wolfed it down, wagging his stubby tail.
Kim
stumbled into the living room. The scrapbook still lay in pieces on the floor
among the broken frame and shattered glass from the picture that once hung on
the wall. For a moment, she wondered what had happened. Walking to it, she
looked down on the pile of painted wood and glass.
The pile
looked different, somehow. She hadn’t noticed it at first. Part of the frame
stuck up like some kind of twisted arm. Large shards of glass littered around
the pieces of the wood. They had cut the photograph in the fall and Ross’ face
was slashed clean through.
Kim
abruptly stood and looked away. Her heart pounded. She could almost hear it
beating wildly with each shallow breath. Was she having a panic attack?
Calming
herself, she inhaled deeply and walked to the large picture window. Gazing out,
she noticed the street lamps glowing over the quiet parking lot. There was no
movement in the dark. All her neighbors' cars stood in silent rows facing the
curbs; their windows dark. Everyone was probably sleeping, tucked safe and
secure in their homes.
Kim's
eyes searched the quivering shadows along the parking lot and she tried to see
beyond the iron entrance gates to the outer road. But it was too dark.
Too early in the wee hours of the morning.
She
wished that she could see a patrol car roll by. She wondered if they were
watching her townhome. The thought comforted her. She felt a little safer.
A little.
Maybe...
* * * * *
* *
Michael
woke in the hospital and the first thing he noticed was his blurry vision.
Equipment with flashing lights beeped constantly beside him. Bright colors were
on his left, cards and flowers from his classmates. The right side of the room
was black, until he slightly moved his head and saw more colors and a window. A
blurry woman was standing in the corner.
“You’re
awake.” It was his mother, and she stepped toward the bed. “Is there anything
you need?”
A ragged
grunt gurgled in his throat. Michael couldn’t speak, he felt so weak. He turned
his head so that he could see his mother better, and realized there was
something over his right eye. He couldn’t see out of it.
A nurse
came into the room and approached his bed on the left side.
“You’re
awake,” she said, adjusting the IV. She checked the monitor.
He
listened to the beep, and it seemed to grow louder, pulsing to the beat of the
throbbing in his head. She said something to his mother, but he couldn’t
understand what the nurse was saying; the beeping was too loud. It was the last
thing he remembered before losing consciousness.
When he
woke again, his hospital room was dark. He wasn’t sure how long he had slept.
Maybe it had been a few hours. Maybe it had been a few days. Regardless, he had
slept. His dreams had been wicked though.
He
struggled to sit up. The tubes hooked to his arms made that next to impossible.
Looking around the room, he felt like his vision had cleared-up a little. The
right side of his face throbbed, and despite the bandage, he could see little
flashes of light that confused his left eye. It made it seem like fireworks
were sparkling around him.
Before
his eye could adjust, the door opened and light from the hallway flooded the
room. Michael shut his eye. When he opened it again, he saw that the nurse had
entered and turned on a small lamp over the sink and lavatory. She approached
the bed.
“Welcome
back,” she said, smiling. Behind her, the door opened again and two men entered
the room. The nurse turned to them. “He just woke. Give him some time.”
“We may
not have time,” the officer said.
“Well,
make it quick,” she said. She left the room and the taller officer approached
the bed.
“How are
you feeling Michael?”
Michael
opened his mouth, struggling to speak. He wanted to say,
Not
good
. It came out more as
Nuttt
Uuggghhh
.
“Don’t
try to speak,” the officer said. “I just have a few questions and I want you to
nod, yes or no. Do you understand?”
Michael
weakly nodded his head.
“Good,”
the officer said. “Do you know where you are?”
Again,
Michael nodded.
“You’re
at Stillwater General,” the Officer continued. “You were attacked. Did you see
who attacked you?”
Michael
shut his eye a moment,
then
nodded his head.
“Good.
Did you know the attacker?”
Michael
opened his left eye again,
then
shook his head. He
barely even remembered what happened.
“Okay,” the officer said slowly. He
pulled a photograph from his trench coat and held it up. “Does this man look
familiar? Is this
who
attacked you?”
Michael focused on the photo, staring
at the bearded face looking back at him. It was the face of Addison Gaynor.
18
Impending
Darkness
Tuesday,
January 25, 2000
10:43 AM
Morning
brought more rain and a loud pounding at the door woke Kim from her stupor.
Zeus barked madly as she made her way downstairs to the living room.
“Who
is it?” she asked pressing her ear to the door.
“Kimberly,”
came
the voice from outside. “It’s me, Mallory. Let me
in!”
“Go away,
Mal! I don’t feel well.”
Mallory
pounded on the door, sending Zeus into another spasm of barks and yelps. “You
open this door right now Kimberly Bradford! You've been locked in there for
days,” she yelled from outside.
“This is
your last chance!”
Kim
didn’t answer, walking away from the door and back to the staircase.
“I’m
warning you, Kim! I’ve got the landlord with me out here.” Mallory's voice
carried inside. Zeus barked and growled, leaping at the doorknob. Kim sulked
back upstairs and climbed into bed. A moment later, a key clicked as it
inserted into the lock and the landlord forced the door open.
Zeus
barked and lunged at him as he stood in the doorway. Mallory leaned forward and
wrapped her arms around the dog. He barked wildly and she held the Doberman
tight. The landlord stepped back onto the porch, shutting the door, allowing
Mallory to enter the townhome alone.
“Kim,”
she yelled, glancing up the staircase. “I know you’re here!” Mallory stormed up
the stairs and entered the bedroom loft. Kim lay face down on the bed,
her
back turned.
Mallory
marched over to the bed, grabbed hold of Kim by the shoulders and swung her
around.
“Listen
to me, Kimberly. Enough is enough. You’ve got to snap out of this right now.”
She shook Kim and raised her up so that they were both sitting on the bed.
Mallory placed a hand on the back of Kim’s head and looked her eye to eye.
“What do you always tell me? Life doesn’t get easier…”
Kim
didn’t respond. Mallory tightened her grip around the back of Kim’s head and
repeated, “Life doesn’t get easier…”
“We just
get tougher,” Kim said faintly, her voice hoarse. Then clarity filled her eyes
and she leaned toward Mallory. She swallowed hard and bit back tears. “I can’t
believe he’s gone. He’s just gone.”
Mallory
wrapped her arms around her, caressing her hair. “I know,” she said softly.
“I’m not
strong. Not strong enough for this,” Kim struggled to talk. She choked,
then
continued. “I just don’t know how to take all
of this. I feel like
every thing
is out of
control.”
“But it’s
not. You will get through this.” Mallory took Kim’s face in her hands and
looked deep into her eyes. “I promise.”
Kim
looked away. “You don’t understand.” She gulped a deep breath, hot tears now
slipping down her cheeks. Something flickered far back in her eyes and she
found her voice again. “
He's
calling me.”
“Who's
calling you?” Mallory asked. “You’re not making any sense.”
“I don’t
know who he is or what he wants. At first I thought it was Ross but now I just
don’t know.” She yielded to the compulsive sobs that shook her.
Mallory
embraced her tightly, holding her. “Whoever it is, we’ll make him stop,” she
whispered, gently rocking her. “I promise we'll make him stop.”
That
afternoon, Mallory got Kim out of the house. They parked downtown, had eggs and
coffee at the Fork & Spoon, then went to the salon. Kim sulked while the
woman cut her hair. Mallory pressed on, and they got manicures and ate lunch.
By the time they pulled up to the mall, Kim was feeling human again.
Though she wouldn’t admit it.
Still,
that nagging pulse running across her temples, behind her eyes, wouldn’t go
away. And Alec Whitman’s words rang through her head.
“I’ve been thinking about Alec Whitman and the
police. They all said that Addison has a history of stalking past girlfriends,”
Kim said as they wandered through Macy’s Department Store. Kim held up a tan
dress to her body and glanced at her reflection in the wall mirror. “I’m just
saying
,
how well do you know him?”
“I have
Addison Gaynor wrapped around my little finger,” Mallory said, taking the tan
dress from Kim’s hands and placing it back on the rack. She then handed Kim a
velvety plum backless number. “I can assure you, we have nothing to worry about
when it comes to
Pudd'n
’ Toes. He’s madly in love
with me.”
“But what
do you know of his past?” She held the skimpy dress at arm’s length and then
glanced at the price tag. She handed it back to Mallory. “He’s divorced, right?
What happened to his wife? Did he have kids? If so, where are they?”
Mallory
paid no attention, directing the sales clerk to bring out some matching shoes. “I
don’t know where all this is even coming from.”
“I’m just
worried about what we don’t know.
There’s
a lot of
crazy things going on around us right now and I think we need to ask some
questions.”
“Such as?”
Mallory
asked. A flash of annoyance crossed her face. Kim's response held a note of
impatience.
“Such as,
who was this girl who filed a restraining order against your jealous, stalking
boyfriend?”
“Lighten
up. That was a million years ago.”
Kim
continued. “Why is he lying about being out of town? Why is he spying on us?”
“Because he's obsessed.”
Mallory flashed
her a
wicked grin.
“Like I said, he's madly in love with me.”
“The
police are watching our townhomes, Mal. They're going to catch Addison lurking
outside in his BMW.”
“Oh,
Sweetie... my
Pudd'n
Toes is harmless.” Mallory
laughed as a clerk brought out the shoes.
She tried them on. Nodding her approval, she motioned for Kim to try on
a pair. “And pick out a dress too. Anything you want. It’s my treat.”
“Why? You
got The
Gunz’s
platinum card or something?”
“Don't ever
bring up that name again.” Mallory stiffened as if Kim's question had just
struck her. “Apparently he's dating Madonna now.”
“The rock star?
I
thought she was seeing some British movie director.”
“Either
way, I can't compete.” Mallory shrugged it off. “That's why we don't have
anything to worry about with Addison.”
“Mal, I
disagree.”
“There's
nothing to worry about.” Mallory said a little more forcefully than she
probably intended. Smiling, she blatantly changed the subject. “Why don't you
pick out something
nice.
I was the one hundred and
seventh
caller
in KYGL 107’s
Phrase That Pays
and I won one thousand seven dollars!”
Kim
congratulated her then found a stunning white form-fitting dress, something
that reminded her of Princess Di. She held it up, admiring the fabric. “This is
beautiful. But Mal, I can’t let you spend the money you won on me.”
“Oh,
go
try it on. You’d look stunning in that. Besides, you’re
not wearing any of my clothes again.” Mallory adjusted her blouse as if it’d
been stretched out. “We’re obviously not the same size.”
Leaving
the mall, Mallory took Kim to the nursing home to see her grandfather. He was
having dinner in the cafeteria when they arrived. They sat down at his table
and he looked up from his peas and carrots.
“Do you know
my daughter?” he asked Kim.
“I do,”
Kim said, smiling patiently. “I’m your granddaughter.”
He looked
back down at his peas. “I’ll have to introduce you sometime,” he said, holding
his spoon. It trembled in his unsteady hand, but he paid no attention. He
seemed wholly enthralled with Kim, as if it was the first time he'd ever seen
her. “She’s about your age.”
Kim
looked at Mallory then back at her grandfather. She held out her hand and
squeezed his arm. “I love you,
Grampa
,” she said.
Late
that evening, the
girls returned to their townhome complex and entered Mallory's dark living
room, their arms filled with packages.
“I can't
wait to try these on,” Mallory said, dropping two sacks and four boxes onto the
couch. She slipped off her high heels, ran her hands through her thick red hair
and shook her head.
“Okay,
but I've got to check on Zeus first,” Kim said. She was definitely feeling
better, and chuckled. “I can't believe we were gone all day. He's probably
waiting for me with his legs crossed.”
The
street lamps over the parking lot shined into the living room, deepening the
shadows around them and Kim reached for the light switch. Nothing
happened.
“That's
strange,” Kim said, noticing the black, boxy video cassette recorder sitting on
top the television. Its light was out too. “Did you pay your light bill?”
“I've got
candles in my bedroom.” Mallory pointed upstairs as she stood in the
doorway. “You light some candles and then go walk Zeus. I'll wake up the
landlord. Maybe it's just a fuse or something.”
Mallory
left, shutting the door behind her.
Alone,
Kim fumbled through the dark to the spiral staircase and made her way upstairs
to the bedroom loft. The moon shone brightly through the skylight, but she
still had to maneuver carefully to allow her eyes to adjust.
Finding
the night stand, her hands brushed a waxy candle stick.
Now where were the
matches?
She opened the drawer, happening to glance out the window. She
could see Mallory walking along the parking lot curb toward the landlord’s
residence.
She
looked back. Flipping through the items in the drawer, Kim found a match book
and held it up.
She
struck a match. Shadows shrunk in the room with the yellow flame and she lit
the candle. She shook out the match. That's when she noticed it from the corner
of her eye.
Movement.
Coming from the closet.
She
wasn't alone.
Kim swung
around, and screamed. A man was standing there. His eyes reflected the flickering
candle light, and he stepped forward. Moonlight hit his face.
“Oh, my
God,” she cried. “Addison...”