The Piper (2 page)

But he yearns most particularly for the special ones, craving the warmth and throb of their light, wrapping himself around it tighter and tighter until he chokes it off for good.

The Piper looks up at the window and smiles. She does not see him, oh no, she will not see him unless –
until
, dare he say it – she chooses that he be seen. The very best games have rules. But she can't keep him from stalking, and she is sensing him, smelling him, he prickles now on the back of her neck. He knows her sweet spot, her little Teddy. The Piper can always taste the salty red meat of their hearts.

He howls with pleasure, has watched her such a long time, licking at her heels, and he is after her now, like a dog digging up an old buried bone, but then he stops. He listens.

A scent, perhaps? Merely instinct?

Something makes him hesitate, stops him mid stride, chokes off the flow of pleasurable pain. He hears it very faintly, the voice that calls his name – not Decan Ludde, not Duncan Lee, the Piper has so many names, and he loves them all, like little treasures. This is the old name that knows him, that puts him in his place, and he feels the nasty anger that burns. He does not like being distracted from his pleasures, but he is a wise old hunter and he knows when to put the pretties aside and concentrate on the smells.

Nothing he can see yet, just the feeling, which is knowledge enough. She will not be easy prey, this one, she is not alone. They never are alone, if only they knew it. And how little they do know, how innocent and simple their delusions. It makes them that much more delicious to hunt.

He looks back up at the window. She is no longer there, but he feels her. Olivia. He knows
her
name and she'll soon learn his.

Next time he will leave her a calling card. A tiny pool of water, no bigger than your average blood stain, maybe by the bed. He likes water, it makes him strong, it travels, and he drowns them like rats in the water.

Let me in, little girlies, let me in.

This is how it begins. Again.

O
livia was barely aware when the movers arrived at nine forty-five a.m. instead of eight, and though she was a veteran mover and knew better, she supervised very loosely while they loaded the furniture and boxes. They were grateful for the Gatorade (electrolytes), the bananas (potassium for muscle support) and cashews (protein) that she always provided. They worked up a serious sweat and took smoke breaks, and, as usual, never stopped for lunch. By six p.m. the house was dirty, empty, echoing.

Olivia did her final walk through, with her phone jammed into the front pocket of her jeans, where it had sat, silent and uncomfortable, all day.

She had kept the phone line open for an hour last night before she hung up. Then she'd checked the record of incoming calls. It had been there, twelve twelve p.m., lodged, inexplicably, as voice mail. No number to trace.

The Mister Man.

Olivia was upstairs in Teddy's empty bedroom when she heard the front door open and Teddy shout for Winston. She headed down the stairs, smiling hard.

Teddy's khaki shorts were crumpled and stained with something orange, little round glasses loose on her nose, fine brown hair limp from the heat. Her toes were dusty in the sandals, and she had a Nancy Drew book tucked under one arm. Right now it was
The Secret of the Old Clock.

‘The truck's gone, Mommy. How come you didn't call? I'm hungry and Dr Amelia's taking us to the Wolf Creek Grill. I ate a bite of Winston's dog chow. It really wasn't bad.'

‘I promise you she got to the dog chow before I could stop her.' The red of Amelia's hair had a harsh glint, like a bad dye job, though Olivia knew Amel paid several hundred dollars a month for that particular shade. Her eyes were brown, slanty and kind, and she wore black cat glasses on a chain around her neck.

Olivia had toyed with the idea of going red herself, maybe a rich auburn instead of her natural color of mud brown, but constant coloring was expensive so she settled for blonde streaks when she was in funds. She kept her hair shoulder length and layered to set off the rounded shape of her face, the Kewpie doll lips. On good days she looked at that face in the mirror and thought Botticelli angel. On bad days she thought fat.

Amelia had changed out of the usual white coat and scrubs into blue jeans and a tee. She was a physician's assistant with her own practice in conjunction with a family services clinic in Valencia, and she had been Teddy's pediatrician since the Los Angeles move.

‘Teddy and I stopped and got your last bit of mail. Don't let me forget to give it to you.' Amelia patted the green crocodile purse slung over one shoulder. ‘It's in the bag. So, are you hungry? Did you even eat today?'

‘I had a mustard sandwich for lunch. Teddy, did you thank Dr Amelia for letting you hang out at her office all day?'

Teddy was shy around moving men. Packing up the house always upset her.

‘Thank me?' Amelia said. ‘I should be thanking her. She organized my store room, sorted and threw away all the old magazines, then curled up and read her book for the rest of the day. If I'd known how useful she was, I'd have kidnapped her a long time ago.'

Olivia gave Amelia a grateful look. Things had been going badly with Teddy since the divorce. Badly enough to scare both Olivia and Hugh into setting their inevitable hostilities aside, so they could present a united front.

The most infuriating thing was the lies – not big ones, defiant ones. When it came to the big stuff, Teddy seemed to have the strong moral center she'd had since she was a little girl. No, the lies she told were stupid ones. Obvious ones. Like a little girl begging to get caught. Things like eating cookies for breakfast and saying she'd had toast and jelly, when there were Oreo crumbs spilling down her shirt. Or saying that Hugh had given her permission to pour beer into Winston's water bowl.

Hugh and Olivia had instituted the policy of same rules, both households, had sat down together all three of them to explain all boundaries.

Teddy had responded by ignoring her work at school – going so far as to stand on the back of the toilets in the girls' restroom after lunch every day, folding her arms and refusing to come out, much less do her school work. Teddy was doing things that made Olivia want to laugh and punish her at the same time.
My outrageous daughter
was what Hugh called her now. But even when Olivia and Hugh laughed, they knew it wasn't good.

‘Teddy, take Winston out, okay? He needs to pee.' Olivia waited till the sliding doors opened and closed. ‘Amelia, what's wrong? You've smeared all your mascara off. And there are wads of tissues hanging out of your pocket.'

‘Maybe I've known
you
too long,' Amelia said. Olivia was famous for leaving a trail of tissues wherever she went. ‘And couldn't I just be sad because my best friend is moving all the way to Tennessee? Or tired because you called and woke me up in the middle of the night?'

‘Why don't you just set that shit on fire and tell me what's up?'

Amelia tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘Marianne Butler. More fluid in the lungs and Alexis and Jack won't let her go. They want another round of chemo while Marianne gags like a baby fish on a hook. Don't ever let anybody tell you drowning is painless.'

Olivia squeezed Amelia's hand. Little Marianne Butler, in and out of hospitals with leukemia for most of the three short years of her life, haunted Amelia in her dreams.

Amelia and Marianne's mother, Alexis, had been college room-mates, together during all the major milestones, graduation, Alexis marrying Jack, Amelia opening her practice. Four years ago they'd gone to Santa Barbara for a couples weekend, Alexis and Jack, Amelia and Brandon, for a miraculous forty-eight hours that ended with two unplanned events – Amelia and Brandon in a spontaneous wedding resulting in a marriage that lasted eighteen months, and the conception of Marianne.

Olivia had learned to slough off the little geysers of envy when she saw Amelia and Alexis together. A friendship, lasting through the years, stronger than your average marriage, was not an option for a nomad like herself.

‘Look, let's skip dinner. You go ahead to the hospital, Amel.'

‘I can't do it anymore, Livie. I won't. Alexis is a brick wall when I try and talk to her about it, Jack is a zombie, and the oncology team is dead set on prolonging the agony – there's nothing I can do. Let's go have dinner and a drink. Or two.'

‘You're sure?'

‘We absolutely have to talk. I've been googling all afternoon. I'll tell you over dinner, Livie, but there are entire websites devoted to this stuff.'

‘This stuff?'

‘Phone calls from the dead.'

T
he Wolf Creek Grill specialized in hamburgers grilled with melted blue cheese, portabella mushroom sandwiches, wood fired pizzas and house brewed beer. Amelia ordered the Asian Sesame chicken salad, which came with a side of fruit, and Olivia was not surprised that Amelia had been continuously stealing shoestring French fries off Olivia's plate. Olivia had ordered the Swiss mushroom burger, and set the bun aside, eating onions, mushrooms and meat. She was not in favor of salad for dinner, and did not care for any fruit except mangoes. She was happy to share her fries. She would have preferred mashed potatoes, because mashed potatoes, mustard sandwiches, and bread and butter pickles were her particular comfort foods, but the Wolf Creek Grill had none of these. It was hard to find bread and butter pickles anywhere but the south.

‘Mama?' Teddy said. ‘Ashley just texted me. She and Amber are going to the Marble Slab. Can I go over there too? Like a goodbye thing? I've had all I want to eat, I promise, I'm full, and it's right next door, so I'll be safe.'

Olivia glanced at Teddy's cheeseburger. Three bites, maybe four, but little ones. She'd made inroads on the fries. ‘Okay, but you stay there, in the ice cream shop, till I come over and get you. Don't go
anywhere
else. Here.' Olivia dug her wallet out of her purse. ‘Here's five bucks.'

Amelia shuddered. ‘Five dollars for ice cream. The world has gone mad. And while we're digging in purses, let me give you your mail.'

‘Amelia, I'll be right back. I just need to walk Teddy—'

‘
Mother
. I can walk next door by myself.' Teddy stuck the money in her pocket, and headed out, then turned back. ‘Thank you, Mama.'

Olivia watched Teddy walk out of the restaurant, craning her neck a little when her daughter went out the door.

‘Southern children are so polite.'

‘Only if you beat them.'

‘Seriously. How is she doing?'

‘Up and down. More down than up. Nothing I can't handle.' Olivia did not mention that she was unable to sleep anymore, and lay awake at night, doubting every decision she'd made. Should she and Hugh have stayed married no matter what? Would moving yet again make things better or worse? There was no question that what Teddy needed was stability. To live in one place, to go to one school, to end the constant moving that was an integral part of life with Hugh. Neither she nor Teddy could get any traction in their lives living this way.

‘She's struggling, Amelia, and it breaks my heart. She wants to be good, but something inside her wants to be bad too. I hate that term,
acting out
, but it's exactly what she's doing. So. She needs stability and she needs limits, and that's what she's going to get.'

‘Stability?' Amelia said. ‘You're moving again.'

‘One last move. So we can go home and stay put.'

Amelia set a small stack of envelopes on the table by Olivia's plate and took a sip of her Grey Wolf Ale. ‘Just keep in mind that things may get worse before they get better. And by the way, when did you cave and let her acquire the cell phone? I mean, come on, Livie, she's
eight
.'

‘Lose the pursed lips. It was a gift from Hugh.'

‘You're familiar with the
no
word?'

‘Yes, Amel, and he asked me first, we talked about it. Teddy's had a lot of separation anxiety since the divorce. You know how connected she is to her dad. It's supposed to be a special phone just to talk to Hugh.' Olivia shrugged. ‘But yes, you're right, it's starting to get out of hand. Suddenly her friends are texting from their mothers' or siblings' phones, and it's going off all the time. I'm going to let it be until we get settled in Knoxville, then slowly phase it out.'

‘That's what they all say, but Pandora couldn't put it back in the box.' Amelia looked over Olivia's shoulder and tilted her head, pointing toward the television mounted in the corner of the bar. ‘Will you look at that. Talk about karma. That couldn't be a coincidence.'

Olivia twisted to see the screen – football players in white and orange against blue and white. The first game of the season, a grudge match between the University of Tennessee and Western Kentucky State.

‘Don't go all woo woo on me, Amel, I'm pretty shook up. I
recognized
his voice. That was definitely my brother last night on the phone. My brother, deceased.'

‘Supposedly this is an actual known phenomena.'

‘You got this off the Internet, remember.'

‘You're the one who got the call. You look pale, Olivia.'

‘Pale or sunburned. There's no in between for me.' Olivia leaned back in the booth and stuck her feet out. She was short so they didn't go very far. Her feet were very small.

Amelia leaned across the table. ‘Evidently, it's happened to a lot of other people. There are some very distinctive patterns on how this . . .
manifestation
works.'

‘I love how you make it sound like science.'