Sweet Dreams (13 page)

“The kids have a theory,” Maryruth said. “They think as people grow older they lose much of what they should retain.” She looked at Heather. “Why don't you explain it, Heather?”

“I'll try,” the girl said. “It's like this. Kids don't care about color – not at first. All that prejudice stuff comes from our parents. And we could deal with bullies and people like that without adults to help – if adults would only let us. We'd probably do it with sticks and rocks. You see,” she said patiently, aware that she was talking to adults, “we aren't born knowing all the rules and regulations. Those are put on us. We may be innocent, but we're also savage.

“Then there's money. It's not so important to kids, but grownups judge people by the
things
they possess. If you live in a big house, drive an expensive car, and have lots of
things,
you are respected. Adults don't care about how people got these things; they are impressed just because someone has them. Big deal. Really look at some of the people who do.

“Up north, Sissy was my best friend, and even after my parents forbid me to see her, I still did. I didn't lie to my parents about it; they just never asked me. Sissy didn't steal or lie or do bad things. Her parents were dead and her grandmother didn't have much money, that's all. That's what bothered my parents.” She looked at Marc. “You want to try?”

Marc shrugged. “Why not?” He looked at Maryruth. “I told you a few minutes ago that I liked sports. Baseball especially. But I don't play on any team 'cause I'm not good enough. I used to play on a team up north. I really had a lot of fun too. Then one night I heard a man say, ‘I wish they'd get that Anderson kid out of there and someone put in who knows how to play the game.' The other men agreed with him.”

“How old were you, Marc?” Heather asked.

“It was last year. I was almost nine.”

Voyles grunted disgustedly. Jerry shook his head in a disbelieving gesture. Janet closed her eyes and Maryruth patted Marc's shoulder.

Heather took Marc's hand.

“Aw,” Marc said. “That wasn't the first time I'd heard it, and not just about me either. My friend, Ray, quit the team when he heard a lady say the same thing about him. It really hurt him. He cried. That's when I started wondering what it is you lose as you get older. I mean, if adults want kids to have fun, why didn't they just give us a ball and bat, and point out an empty field?

“And there's lots of things we believe in that grownups don't. We believe in magic and ghosts and witches and warlocks and all that stuff. I can look at a field full of flowers and trees and see the elves. A grownup looks at the same field and sees a new housing development or a factory or a shopping center. You see what we mean?”

“Yeah,” Voyles said softly. “But once you lose it, how do you get it back?”

“You don't,” Heather said. “Once it's gone, it's gone forever.”

Hidden in the timber, the red eyes of the glowing ball of light blinked. The creature that was Sanjaman seized on the words of the children. I was right about them, he thought. I must have their spirits and minds. The old Indian was right; they will be the ones to fight me. They must join me.

The light intensified for a moment, then blended into the light of day. It reappeared sixty miles away, in Cape Girardeau.

Heather saw the flash of light form and then disappear. She glanced at Marc. Very slightly, he nodded his head. He, too, had seen the light.

“What in the devil was that?” Voyles blurted out. “Over by the timberline. A flash of something. God! It made my skin crawl.”

“You haven't lost it,” Heather told the cop. “Believe me. That was the light.”

Claire woke up in the dark closet. She crawled to the door and tried the doorknob. Locked. Had she image ined the narrow beam of light, the voice, the hideous creature she had seen just outside the door? Surely she had. It had been her mind playing tricks on her, that was it. She put her face in her hands and began to weep. For some reason, the back of her neck hurt.

Darkness closed in around her.

 

The fire swept quickly through the floor housing the Medical Examiner's offices, the records and the labs. It burned with such an intensity no one who witnessed it had ever seen anything like it. It was so hot the flames were blue-white, melting and destroying anything they touched within seconds.

Half the floor was destroyed in five minutes. The flames then softened their force and the firemen were able to put them out. No fireman, including the chief, had ever seen anything quite like this blaze.

Only one fatality had resulted: the assistant medical examiner.

When notified of the fire, Doctor Finley had gone to the hospital and viewed the wreckage firsthand.

“Any idea where the fire started?” He'd asked.

“The cooler room.”

“How?”

“We don't know.”

“Uh-huh,” Doctor Finley replied. “And everything is destroyed?”

“Yes, sir. The heat was so intense it destroyed the bodies in storage. There is nothing left of any of them. I'd guess some type of thermal device was used.”

“But who in the world would do something like that?” The fireman's voice was incredulous.

“You're assuming it was something from this world,” Finley muttered.

The chief and the fireman looked at the doctor strangely. Naw! the fireman thought. The doc couldn't have said that.

 

“Interesting day, Marc?” Harry asked.

Marc looked up and caught the odd glint in his father's eyes. He had never seen that particular look before. He was instantly wary. Why did his father keep rubbing the back of his neck?

“Yes, it was, Dad. Very interesting. How was your day?”

“None of your damned business!” His father's voice was harsh.

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir? What do you mean by that?” There was confusion on the man's face.

“I responded to what you said, Dad.”

Father stared at son. Abruptly the odd light in his eyes changed. Marc felt he was witnessing a total transformation.

“. . . and I are going out for the evening. Taking Beth and Carla with us. You'll be all right in the house. But you'd better stay inside, young man. Understood?”

He doesn't remember saying those other things, Marc thought. He doesn't remember staring at me. He thought he was talking about going out all the time. Oh, Dad, has this thing got you and Mom, too?

“Yes, sir. I'll stay home.”

“Fine.”

No play-punching with his son; no tousling his hair. Harry Anderson just turned around and walked out of the room without looking back or saying another word. He was rubbing the back of his neck as he left.

 

“We're going to the Cape with Harry and Rosanna,” Jack told Heather. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Taking the boys. Going in two cars.”

“Yes, sir,” Heather said. “Am I going?”

“No, you're not. You're staying home.”

“I see,” Heather said. She didn't see at all. “Am I being punished?”

Her father grinned, and to Heather, it was not a pretty sight. “That's one way of putting it.”

“May I ask why?”

Her father grinned lewdly. “I just wonder what you and Marc do all day?”

Heather felt her face grow hot. His implication was plain. “That's not a very nice thing to say, Dad.”

“Shit!” Her father laughed. Then he turned around and left her sitting on her bed. She noticed he kept rubbing the back of his neck.

Heather looked at the rows of dolls and teddy bears.

A stuffed bear winked at her.

 

“You're not imbibing this evening, Leo?” Bud asked his long-time drinking buddy.

“I'm off the booze,” Leo said. “I think. I don't know for how long. But for a while, I'm gonna try to stay clean.”

“Very well. I shall join you in your abstinence. Yes. I think that is a very good idea. A wise choice for the both of us. For I believe many events of great magnitude will soon be developing before our eyes. And I feel we shall both be playing some part in them.”

“What events?” Leo asked cautiously. But he knew what Bud was referring to.

“Sanjaman, of course.”

“Fuck him. He leaves me alone, I leave him alone,” Leo stated flatly. “I tried to help, and the sheriff wouldn't listen to me. Hell with it. That's the way I feel about it.”

“I told you how that course of action would be.” Bud smiled, the grin creasing his leathery face. “But neither of us can sit back and take no part in what is no longer upcoming, but is here.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Manitou has been without women for many years. He is insatiable; his need is very strong. There will be more raping and killing.”

“It ain't no concern of ours, Bud.”

“Au contraire,
my old friend. It is.”

“Bud – ”

“Silence. I am about to impart centuries of wisdom to you if you will cease your prattling and pay attention for a moment.”

Something in the old Indian's voice caught and held Leo's attention. He nodded his head in the waning light of day. “All right, Bud. What is it we have to do?”

 

Claire heard the lock click. She lifted her head as the closet door slowly swung open. Beyond the confines of the small closet, the locker room loomed, black as midnight velvet. Something was out there, but she could not see it, only sense it.

Claire's mind was already strained by the hours she'd spent locked in the dark closet, surrounded by what she feared most. She was very close to a mental breakdown.

“I will not allow that to happen.” The hollow-sounding voice reached her ears. “For I have a need for you.”

Claire's voice was reduced to a slight whisper. “Who are you and what are you going to do to me?”

“Let us say, for the moment, that I have returned after too long a time.”

“Returned from where?”

“I have been resting, gathering strength for my final reincarnation.”

“I don't understand.”

“Yes, you understand. It is only the mortal part of you that refuses to comprehend.”

“Why are you standing in the dark?”

“Because you fainted the first time you saw me in the light, remember?”

Claire remembered. She said nothing.

“You may come out of the enclosure. You are free.”

Claire scooted out on hands and knees. She was so grateful to be free of the closet, she paid no attention to her nakedness. She tried to stand up, but her legs just would not support her. They were cramped from the hours she'd spent in such a small space. She looked up. She could see red eyes piercing the darkness, staring at her.

“Come closer,” the hollow voice ordered. “I want to see you.”

Claire crawled closer to the source of the voice. She could dimly make out the shape of the huge man, with long muscular arms; deformed limbs. He was naked – and she could see what dangled between his massive legs.

He was a freak.

“I am not a freak,” the voice said. “I assure you, I am very real, as you will soon discover.”

“What do you mean?”

“You will see.”

A faint light began glowing around the giant of a man. Although the light was not bright enough for Claire to fully make out his features, what she did see distressed her.

Sanjaman laughed, the laughter rolling like thunder through his wide cruel lips. “Do you find me offensive to your sight?”

Now Claire could see a broad harsh face; red savage eyes; a wide fanged mouth; the bulk of him. Her eyes kept returning to the genital area of this huge man. “Yes,” she said. “I find you hideous. Grotesque.”

Sanjaman chuckled. “You give honest answers to questions. That is good. For I require total honesty as well as total devotion. How badly do you want to live?”

Claire laughed, but her laughter contained a note of madness; a touch of panic; a bit of fear and confusion. “I don't know what you are or whether I'm dreaming all this. I think I have probably lost my mind. Yes. I cannot envision myself, in my right mind, squatting naked on the floor of a darkened room, conversing with something as terrible looking as you. But yes, I want to live as much as anyone. Does that answer your question, whatever you are and if you are real?”

“I am real. And you have not lost your mind. I told you; I would not permit that. There will soon be many changes in this town and the area immediately surrounding it. Those who have disturbed me have done a great favor for Sanjaman. Already many changes have taken place, but those who now serve and those who will serve do not realize this.”

“Serve? Serve whom?”

“Yes, how correct you are. That is good. A spokesperson for me. Serve? Serve
me
!”

“Those boys who . . . who raped me. Did you send them?”

“No. They disobeyed my orders. They will be punished. And the girl is mentally deficient. I cannot have that. All will learn the power of Sanjaman. No one disobeys me.”

“Sanjaman. That's Indian, isn't it?”

“You're very astute, Claire. Yes. From a tribe that died out centuries ago. You also have the blood of the Nations coursing in your veins. Did you know that?”

“No, I didn't.”

“It's true. From many, many years ago. Your great-great-grandmother was raped by a white man. She was Cherokee. That is part of the reason I have chosen you.”

“You have
chosen
... me!” Claire began laughing. She laughed until tears rolled from her eyes and no more laughter could escape her raw and swollen throat. She lowered her head to the concrete floor of the locker room. “Oh, God!” she wailed. “Let me die. I just want this nightmare to end. Please!”

Sanjaman stood patiently and let the woman sob. When she could cry no more, he said, “Rise and come to me, Claire.”

“I can't,” she whispered. “I don't have the strength.”

Sanjaman laughed.

Claire felt herself being lifted off the floor. She looked around her. The huge man had not moved from his original spot. She was hanging suspended in the middle of the room. Claire's mind reeled under the impact of what was taking place. The impossible was occurring. She wanted to scream, but her throat hurt so badly.

Then she was standing in front of the creature. She could feel his maleness pressing against her naked flesh. She felt it begin to grow as blood gathered and thickened his organ. Her now-erect nipples – when, she wondered, did I become sexually excited at the prospect of sex with this creature – pushed against Sanjaman's nakedness.

“No.” She whispered the weak protest.

“Yes,” Sanjaman said.

He picked her up effortlessly, both hands under her buttocks. She opened her legs. “Guide me,” he ordered.

Her hand found him and positioned him. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she groaned as he pushed against her, spreading her, entering her.

“I can't!” she said. “It hurts!”

“You will,” Sanjaman said.

A light sprang from the huge man, enveloping both man and woman in its eerie glow. Claire hissed as Sanjaman moved his hips, driving deeper. A screaming groan escaped her lips as she was impaled on his huge penis.

The light became more intense. Now she could truly view the hideousness of this man-creature.

But now she no longer cared.

She kissed his cruel mouth as he filled her, working in and out. She felt his body begin to tremble, felt a sudden gush of hot liquid.

Then ...

Did it really happen? she asked herself.

When she came to her senses, she was fully dressed and sitting in her car, in the school parking lot.

She looked around her, found her purse. She opened it and looked in, turning on the dome light. Everything was there. She looked at the outline of the school complex, looming dark in the night. She smelled a foul odor and realized she was smelling herself. Hours of nervous and fear-induced sweat . . . and sex.

But was the smell from the rapes or from that creature? Was that
thing
real? She couldn't believe it. She had to have imagined it all.

Her mind replayed the scenes: her legs spread wide, taking the . . .

Yes. Sanjaman existed. He was real. He ...

Her mind went blank. The last thing she could remember was sitting at her desk, cleanirig out nine months of accumulation.

“God! What happened to me?”

The back of her neck felt . . . odd. She put a hand to her head and felt a lump on her forehead.

“I must have fallen,” she said, her voice raspy in the closed car. Her throat hurt her. “My God! No telling how long I've been out, and what has been done to me.”

She could not understand why she ached so in her groin. Could someone have come along while I was out and raped me? She became very angry as she nurtured that thought in her mind.

Yes, she concluded, that's probably what happened.

“The bastard!” she said. “Only a dirty bastard would do something like that to an unconscious woman.”

“I must go to the police,” she said.