The Devil's Beating His Wife (20 page)

"You should have tried harder," Baxter said.

"Don't listen to him," I told Lily.

"What are you?" asked Lily.

Abby grabbed her mother's hand and squeezed. Beaming with pride she said, "They're ghosts."

"Ghosts?" Lily repeated. Slowly, realization dawned on her face. "You. It's been you—-" She stopped to shake her head. "You two have thrown things."

Baxter nodded our head.

"Oh, my God," Lily said.

"About that," Baxter began. "The whole blessing the house thing didn't work."

"Obviously," said Lily.

Baxter forced us to glance down at Ronnie's body. We kicked him in the side.

"So why didn't you leave?" Baxter asked again.

"He doesn't understand," I answered.

"And you do?" Baxter asked.

"I do. My daddy used to beat my mama."

Baxter went silent. I could feel his spirit shrink inside of us.
Did he ever hurt you?

I didn't say a word. Instead, I nodded.

Lily stood a little taller. "Did your mama leave?"

"No," I said. "He controlled everything. He owned the house. He made the money. Plenty of people knew about it, but they thought it was his right to do whatever he wanted to my mother. She needed to try harder to please him, they used to say. That man was never pleased, though. You can't just leave men like that. They make it so that you can't."

Lily's eyes dropped to the floor and her shoulders drooped. I knew she understood. "Then what happened?" she asked softly.

"My great-aunt, Vessa, that's what. She put a spell on him. She put a little salt on his tracks then brushed them away with a broom. One day he left and never returned." I remembered the day he drove away. Rumor spread that he'd died in a car accident a few counties over. I never learned if it was true. I didn't really care. He had beaten any love for him out of me.

Baxter once again took control of the body. He had grown silent in the last few minutes. Without saying or thinking a word, he knelt down and grabbed Ronnie's arms. I figured Baxter was strong enough to carry him, but instead he dragged his body out of the house.

I don't want to hurt my back.

"Don't do that," I snapped back, knowing he felt my thoughts, just like I felt his.

Sorry, I can't really help it.

"As soon as we get this man out of this house, I'm leaving this body, Baxter. I ain't never doin' this again. Ain't no white boy gonna get inside of me. You hear me," I muttered as we walked across the front porch. Ronnie's head slammed into the wooden steps as we descended the stairs.

Baxter laughed.
If you say so, Spicey. If you say so.

CHAPTER TWELVE

November 7, 1970, Laurens County

"You liked it," Baxter coaxed. "You don't have to deny it." His eyes danced with merriment. His full lips curled into a smirk.

I crossed my arms over my chest, creating a barrier between me and his charm. His words were wearing me down, even though I knew what I risked. "You can stop those sweet words, you hear me. I ain't messin' with you no more."

Baxter stepped towards me and placed his hands on my arms. His thumbs rubbed circles on my skin. "You loved having me deep inside you."

I slapped at his hands and raised my chin. "You lying sack of shit. I felt no such way."

"One more time," he pleaded. "I'll make it good for you, Spicey. I promise. This time it will only be about our pleasure."

I looked deep into his eyes, sensing his excitement. It fed my own. I nibbled my bottom lip as I tried to convince myself that I shouldn't do this. That I shouldn't want to feel this way. "Fine," I said.

The corner of his mouth lifted as he ducked his head in approval. He rubbed his hands, obviously pleased to have won this skirmish.

The house was once again empty with the exception of Baxter and me.

That first night was nothing but a blur to me. I had been so focused on dragging Ronnie's body that I hadn't taken time to enjoy my freedom. I didn't stop and listen to the crickets chirp or enjoy the breeze blowing across my skin. I don't think it even entered my mind how far I had managed to get away from the house. I guess it didn't really register since Baxter and I were crammed into one shell of a body.

While Baxter and I had dragged Ronnie's body out to the main road, Lily and Abby had gone through the house, packing up their belongings. With Ronnie out of commission, and the hulking presence of me and Baxter standing guard, Lily had finally felt safe enough to run. With the unexpected turn of events, she hadn't had time to gather a plan. She only knew that she was going to seek shelter at her parents' home.

Baxter and I had stood in the shadows as she dumped clothing, jewelry, and toys into trash bags. She had walked through every room, searching for things she could sell. One of the first things she'd grabbed was her wedding ring.

As she had moved from room to room, she kept a watchful eye on us, as if expecting us to turn on her or Abby. Silently, without any word, Baxter and I had separated, becoming invisible ghosts once again. We had stood aside, present but hidden, not wanting to ruin this opportunity.

A large part of me had been sad when Lily packed Abby into the truck. The little girl had leaned out the window as they drove away. She waved her pale thin arms as they sped down the dirt road.

"Are you ready?" Baxter asked, cutting into the memory. As usual, he was lurking at my side.

Since the night Abby and Lily left, I gave up on ever being rid of him. It seemed we needed one another too badly.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into doing this," I said.

His golden blond eyebrows shot towards his hairline. That devilish smile appeared as he asked, "Aren't you curious?"

"Yes, of course."

His eyes widened, as if he expected a better response. "Don't you want to get out of this place?" he asked.

"I do, but certainly not like this!"

"Come on, Spicey. I'll let you take control," he offered, knowing which of my buttons to push.

I poked his chest, cursing my need for him. It wasn't love. It would never be love, but there was a deep connection between us. A connection even deeper than love. It probably should have frightened me, but we had been through so much this past year that I had finally come to see the human side of Baxter. Sad that it took him being dead before I found it.

Baxter stood before me, rocking back and forth on his heels. His hands were shoved into his dark trousers. The top few buttons of his wheat-colored shirt were undone. His blue eyes were intense as he stared down at my face. He raised his hand, gently, and traced the back of his fingers along my cheek. "Are you ready?"

For the briefest of moments, I allowed him to touch me. I leaned into his caress and surrendered myself to his charm. "You promise that I lead this time?"

He grinned wickedly. "I promise."

"You'll let me talk, right?"

"Yes. I promise."

I pulled away from his touch and beamed at him. He grinned back.

"Alright then," I said. "It's a deal."

His roguish expression faded. His blue eyes grew stormy as his lips became drawn and tight. He wrapped his arms around me, and I let him in.

Spicey, you have no idea how long I dreamed of this
, he thought.

"What?" I asked him.

Nice and snug. Just like I imagined it would be. I can't believe I'm deep inside of you again.

"Well, you certainly weren't the first."

Hold on now. What do you mean?

Laughter rocked through me as our connection evolved. The only way I could describe it is like a cold brisk wind went through me. The wind gave me strength, and made me feel whole again. My skin regained sensation. My nose filled with the smells of the house and outdoors. Damn if it wasn't an unwelcoming aroma.

Probably a dead animal.

"In the house?" I said. "I never noticed any such thing. Where is that smell coming from?" I raised our hand to place it over our nose. The stench was overpowering. It triggered a reaction in me that I'd much rather never have experienced again. I doubled over and threw up all of the contents in our belly. Which was nothing, of course.

This is absolutely the last time that I let you take control.

Dry heaves racked our body. The force of the reaction left us shuddering.

"I can't deal with this." As soon as I spoke the words, a swift whirlwind spiraled through our body. I felt as if the force was turning me inside out. I fought to maintain control, but I could feel Baxter overpowering me.

In the next instant, I was inside Baxter's body.
There are times I just despise you, Baxter Bennett. I just hate you sometimes.

"Ease up, Spicey. This is just for a moment. It's the smell of death. I recognize it even now. It takes a while for a person to get used to it. It don't bother me no more," Baxter said as he began to lead us throughout the house. We walked from room to room, inhaling deeply. Something in me recognized the smell was unpleasant, but I could no longer actually smell it.

Baxter entered the kitchen and stood in the center of the room. Then we walked briskly towards the sink and stared out the window.

Do you think it's something in the fridge? Or maybe some rotten meat in the sink?
I asked him.

He just shook our head and continued to stare out the window. Then we walked to the back door and grabbed the handle. We lunged out onto the porch and stormed down the stairs. As we neared the barn, Baxter began to cough. He placed our hands on our hips and turned away from the barn, inhaling deeply. I could feel his hesitation. He didn't want to go to the barn, but oddly, he was also compelled by curiosity.

Are you about to hurl, Baxter?

"Not now, Spicey," he said, gritting his teeth. Taking a moment to steady us, Baxter stared at the barn doors. "Are you ready?"

Ready for what? What are you about to do?

Baxter compelled our body forward. He swung open the barn doors and a whoosh of warm, putrid air swarmed around us. A mass of flies circled in the air.

What are you doing, Baxter?

Baxter pushed the doors further apart so more light and fresh air could enter. I pulled at our body, trying to halt our movements, but Baxter was much stronger. He forced us deeper into the barn. As we neared the center of the barn, our eyes adjusted to the darkness.

I sensed that Baxter already knew what we had found. It took me a few more moments to piece together the image. There, in the center of the barn, was a blue tarp. Under it was the outline of a body.

Please don't, Baxter.

He continued to ignore me. Baxter walked us towards the tarp and knelt down to grab its edges. Tossing it aside, we saw the round shape of a human face. The eyes were bulging. The cheeks were swollen and bloated. Rust-colored hair framed the forehead.

Baxter dropped the tarp and stumbled backward. He began to gag and heave. As his big body shivered with shock and confusion, I tried to recall the events of that night. How did Ronnie get here? We had left him by the road.

"It must have been Lily," Baxter said, responding to my thoughts.

She drove away. You saw it. She and Abby drove away.

Baxter raised our hands and ran them through our hair. He fisted wavy blond strands and tugged until there was pressure on the scalp. "She must have come back."

But we didn't see her. Maybe it was Charles Vincent? Remember, he and his other boy had come out to look for Ronnie. They had searched the place before finally driving away.

"Charlie is an evil bastard, but I don't imagine him the type to kill his own son. And why would he? There has to be another explanation as to how that jackass got out here. We certainly didn't do it." Just as those words left his mouth, something moved in the shadows.

The sound of a low and heavy sigh filled the room. We stood up to Baxter's full height. Our eyes penetrated the shadows, trying to understand what had moved. What had made that sound. We stood there for several moments looking into what appeared to be nothing.

I don't like this
, I thought.
I feel like we're standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting to be pushed over. I don't want to be here any longer.

Then the darkness moved again, detaching itself from the shadows. I quaked with terror as the darkness expanded and loomed over us. I wanted to bolt. I tried to separate myself from Baxter, but he held on tight.

"Wait," he said. He wasn't afraid. I could feel understanding flow through him. He nodded towards the shadow. "Colsen."

The darkness grew and grew and then it burst apart, leaving us alone. I felt like we had been given a reprieve, but then I heard a new voice.

"I don't like strangers." An old man separated from the wall. There were black holes where his eyes should have been. His pointy chin was covered with a white beard. By all appearances, he fit the mold of a harmless man, but power and darkness emanated from him. He frightened me, even though he wasn't threatening us. "I like wife beaters even less." He spoke in a raspy voice, his attention focused on the body at our feet. He surveyed his handiwork for a bit. Then he grinned, revealing yellow teeth.

"Don't you worry none," he said. "We ain't going to be seeing him around these parts anytime soon." He stared deeply into our eyes, and I could feel him searching for me. It was like he had found me, because he nodded with approval and said, "Y'all have a good night now."

We waited until he left. Then Baxter returned to Ronnie's body and tucked the tarp around the rotting corpse. Baxter acted as if we hadn't been visited by another, more powerful ghost. I didn't know what he'd meant about not seeing Ronnie again. Had Ronnie found a way to leave this place?

To avoid scanning the shadows, I glanced down at the decaying body again. I had seen my brother hanging from the tree. I had seen his body fitted inside of a casket. In death, he hadn't looked like this.