The Maddening

by Andrew Neiderman

  Lifting her wrist to check the time, she found it bare—they had even taken her watch. She realized they didn’t want her to know the time of day. The only things she would know would be what they told her. Never had she felt so helpless. The frustration tore at her. She wanted to scream and pound the walls again, but recalling how ineffective that had been, she restrained herself. She needed to reserve her strength for later, when she sought an avenue of escape again.

  Instead, she listened as hard as she could to the sounds coming from other places in the house. She was hoping to hear Tami, so at least she would know her daughter was all right. She heard water running through pipes. She heard some muffled voices and some laughter, but nothing from Tami. There were footsteps just outside the door and then there was the sound of another door closing. After a while the house fell quiet.

  She got off the bed slowly. The moment her feet hit the floor she felt a dizziness sweep over her, forcing her to steady herself by taking hold of the bedpost. The vertigo passed and she continued toward the door. She put her ear against it and listened. Another door was opened again and there were more footsteps. She backed away when the sound stopped at her door.

  The key scraped into the lock and then turned. She had a wild thought to rush out the moment the door swung open, but when it did, the woman was standing there with long scissors pointing in her direction.

  “Good morning, Marlene,” she said. “Did you have a good night’s rest?” She tilted her head to the side like a bird and smiled with maddening gentility.

  Stacey didn’t reply. She simply stared at the woman and the scissors.

  “Where’s my daughter?” she finally asked.

  “Shirley and Donna are taking a bath together, just like they used to. I just finished cutting Donna’s hair,” she added.

  The offhand remark clattered a moment in her mind. Then she screamed, “Noooo!” She started forward, but stopped the moment the man stepped up behind his wife. “What are you doing to my daughter?” she hissed.

  “That’s not a very nice way to act, Marlene,” the woman said softly. She shook her head. “Not after all we’re doing for you and Donna.”

  “You’re crazy. You’re both crazy. You can’t get away with this. There are people looking for me by now. They’ll find me. You’ll see.”

  Her sally was met with stony silence. Then the woman pressed her lips together firmly. “I don’t know why I don’t listen to Gerald. He’s always right. He said you’d be like this. I said, no, she’ll be different in the morning. In the morning things will be like they were. But he said you’d be ungrateful.” She turned to the man. “I’m sorry, Gerald. I should have listened to you. I promise I’ll listen to you from now on.” She turned back to Stacey. “You oughta be ashamed of yourself.”

  “Please, let us go. Please,” she repeated, appealing to the man. His expression was unchanged.

  “Didn’t I ask you to put on that nice dress, the blue and white print?” There was no longer any sweetness in the woman’s voice. She looked and sounded as if she were reprimanding a child.

  “Where’s Tami? I’ve got to see Tami.” Stacey started forward. The woman backed out of the room, and the man took her place, barring Stacey’s path. Stacey hesitated.

  “I’ll bring Donna around afterward,” she said, “but only if you change into the blue and white dress.”

  “It’s not my dress. Please.”

  “But it is your dress, Marlene. I’ve been keeping all your things for you and all of Donna’s things because I knew you’d be back some day. Didn’t I, Gerald?” He nodded. “See? So why don’t you eat your breakfast and change into the dress,” she oozed, returning to her sweet baby voice. “Oh, and put on the blue leather flats. The whole outfit is so cheery.” She started to close the door.

  “Wait. I’ve got to go to the bathroom,” she said. “Will you at least let me go to the bathroom?”

  “Use the chamber pot under the bed, dear,” the woman said. “We’ll be in later to pick everything up.”

  “But my daughter, is she frightened?”

  “Oh, no, Marlene. She’s having a lot of fun. Last night she slept with Shirley in the big brass bed. You should have seen how cute they looked, asleep in each other’s arms. Maybe we’ll take some pictures. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Some pictures? Gerald will go to Green’s and buy some film for the camera, won’t you, Gerald?”

  “Yeah,” he said, still poker-faced. The only animation in his face were the smoldering coals of his eyes.

  “See? Everyone is being so cooperative, Marlene. Why can’t you be? The blue and white dress,” she added, closing the door. The key turned in the lock, and the latch bolted into place.

  For a moment Stacey didn’t move. She gulped in a few breaths to control herself and keep from screaming. Then, like someone under a spell, she marched to the closet and took out the blue and white print dress and the blue leather flats. Slowly, she peeled off her clothes and slid on the dress and the shoes. When she was finished, she studied herself in the mirror.

  Except for where her face was blotchy around the eyes, she was terribly pale. A heavy mothball odor clung to the dress and she did everything she could to keep from retching. Being forced to put on someone else’s clothes made her feel unreal. But she had to if she wanted to see her baby, and make sure she was okay. The image in the mirror looked more like a ghost than like her. The horror of the situation filled her with terrifying thoughts. Perhaps the dress had the power to entrap her, cause her to become possessed by whomever the crazy woman thought she was.

  It fit her so well. She had hoped that a baggy dress could be used as concrete proof that the woman was wrong. She was hoping to convince her of the error, to make her see the madness of her ways, but now she realized she couldn’t talk her way out of this. She would have to find another way to steal Tami and effect an escape. There was no other hope.

  She would have to play along with these mad people, humor them until the right opportunity came. It was all she could hope for. How would David find her? How would anyone trace her to this place? She had ventured off the route David had drawn. Of course, the garage mechanic would remember her and be able to point rescuers in the right direction, but what if they didn’t stop at the farmhouse…what if the man had hidden her car?

  Was she dreaming? Was this all really happening? She had to see Tami; she had to see her daughter soon or she would lose her mind. That knowledge was all that kept her together. She knew she had to remain as strong as she could for Tami’s sake.

  She looked at the breakfast food. Her throat was dry, and her stomach rumbled, but she had to wonder if it was safe to drink and eat their fare. She didn’t believe they wanted to kill her; they could have done that if they wanted to, by now. Instead, they wanted her to play a role in some mad scenario. She could do it for a while, but only a while.

  The juice tasted all right. She gulped it down, but decided to leave the rest. The coffee was already cold, and the food had bled together. After a while she went to the door and started to call.

  “I’m ready,” she said. She waited for a response. “I’m all ready,” she repeated. She heard footsteps again and backed away from the door. The key was slipped into the lock and the door was opened. The woman stood there looking in at her.

  “Why, Marlene, you look so pretty this morning,” she said as though this was the first time she had seen her this morning. “I knew that dress was the one you would wear today.”

  “Thank you,” she said, bracing herself for the coming scenario. “Is Ta—Donna dressed, too?”

  “Yes, she is.” The woman turned and looked to her right. “Donna. Donna dear, come here. Your mother wants to see you. Hurry, darling.”

  After a moment Tami appeared, lost in an emerald green cotton dress that hung on her loosely, obviously sizes too big. Her beautiful long dark brown hair had been clipped awkwardly to the nape of her neck. She looked stunned, like a small bird stolen from its nes
t. She peered in at Stacey and Stacey bit her lower lip to keep herself from crying. Then, her whole body shaking, she lifted her arms and Tami ran to her. The moment their bodies met, Stacey embraced her with all her might.

  She started to cry, but held back, afraid her tears would frighten Tami, who was, in her opinion, close to a state of shock. Instead, she stroked her gently and kissed her softly on the forehead.

  “It’s going to be all right,” she whispered. “It’s going to be all right. Don’t cry. Mommy’s here.”

  “Donna?” the woman said. “Donna?” she repeated. Tami turned slowly and looked at her, but Stacey didn’t release her grip. “Come here, sweetheart.”

  “No,” Stacey said.

  “Donna,” the woman said, ignoring her. “I told you to come here and I told you what happens to you if you don’t obey me,” she added, her voice rising threateningly.

  “Please,” Stacey said. “She’s afraid.”

  “She doesn’t have to be afraid if she listens to Irene, right, Donna? Now come here, Sweetheart.”

  Stacey didn’t loosen her grip on Tami.

  “You’re making things worse for Donna, Marlene.”

  “No,” Stacey said. “You’ve got to let us go.”

  “Gerald,” Irene said. He appeared so quickly it was obvious he had been standing just out of view. He unsheathed a hunting knife holstered at his belt. The long blade glittered in the morning sunlight that came through a hall window.

  “Oh God, no,” Stacey said.

  “Donna?” Irene said.

  Slowly, Stacey released her grip, but Tami didn’t let go of her dress. There was fear in her haggard eyes, and she whimpered.

  “You’re going to be punished for this,” Irene said. “Now get over here.”

  “Don’t hurt her. Please, don’t hurt her.”

  “Tell her to come here,” Irene said. “Shirley wants to play now.”

  “Go ahead, sweetheart. You have to. Go ahead.”

  “No,” Tami said.

  “Gerald,” Irene said. The word sounded like a command to an attack dog. He moved into the room.

  “Don’t hurt her,” Stacey pleaded, weak now with fear. “Please.”

  He took hold of Tami’s little arm and pulled her roughly away. Stacey started forward to pull her daughter back, but his other hand shot out and caught her on the forehead. His fingers clamped together in a vise and pushed her away as though she were as light as the ghost she had imagined in the mirror. Then he lifted Tami and handed the screaming child to Irene.

  “This was very bad,” Irene said. “Very bad. I don’t know if we can let it happen again. It gets Shirley very upset and it takes hours to calm her down.”

  She started away with Tami. Stacey stumbled toward the door, but Gerald straightened up and faced her threateningly.

  Stacey’s terror for her child galvanized her. “What is this? Who are you?”

  “It’s what’s meant to be,” he said. “Just let it be,” he added and stepped out of the room before shutting and locking the door behind him.

  Tami’s screams died away as they drifted down the hallway and carpeted steps. In the silent aftermath, Stacey lost consciousness and folded to the floor, the blue and white dress enveloping her as though it had been waiting for just this opportunity.

  Although there was probably some rationale for the thoughts his mind framed as he drove, David could only fix on the accusing voices that blamed him for this mishap. Was he wrong for wanting his wife and child to join him while he worked in the Catskills? Should he have gone home to pick them up? Why? Stacey was quite independent and capable when it came to most things. What was so difficult about following some clear, easy directions and taking a two-hour ride?

  Nevertheless, he continued to remind himself of all the times he had been selfish when it came to his wife and daughter. He recalled the opportunities he had missed to let Stacey know he cared. Relatively speaking, his indiscretions were minor, like not calling ahead to let her know he would be an hour or so late.

  Some of the things he remembered were silly little deceits, such as deliberately taking the long route back from Philly on a recent Sunday so they wouldn’t have to join Ira and Fran Brodie for their wedding anniversary dinner. Fran was a close friend of Stacey’s, but he couldn’t tolerate Ira Brodie’s obnoxious self-involvement. He was tired of hearing how good Ira was at golf, or how remarkably in shape he was for a man his age.

  Suddenly he realized guilt wasn’t the reason he remembered these insignificant things. He was thinking like a man who had just lost his wife. A fatalism was settling itself inside him. All night and all morning he had fought back the tide of terrible thoughts that threatened to engulf him. But any disaster would have been discovered by now, surely. The mere fact that several law enforcement agencies had been notified and hadn’t reported any calamity must count for something. They would discover in the end that whatever it was was simple. After a while they’d laugh about it.

  Sure, he thought, years from now, he and Stace would talk about it lightly over dinner in some sumptuous restaurant, sipping their split of wine, exchanging tales from each other’s viewpoints.

  “Remember that time…and I went looking for you…and we practically had a statewide alert…” He could hear Stacey’s laughter chime out; he could see her lovely face crease into a smile. Soon she would be beside him again. But this time, he promised, he’d show softer emotions, be less a man of steel.

  He slowed down when he spotted a state policeman parked on the right shoulder of the highway. The officer looked asleep as he sat there blankly staring ahead. Impulsively, David slowed his car to a stop behind the police vehicle. The policeman looked back and then stepped out.

  “Problem?”

  “I’m David Oberman,” he said.

  “Sir?”

  “My wife…my wife and daughter, they’re the ones who are missing. You’re aware of it, aren’t you?”

  The policeman just stared down at him for a moment. Then he pushed his hat back on his head. David was impatient with his slow reactions.

  “My wife, Stacey Oberman, don’t you have a description? She would have been out on this highway.”

  “A blue Cutlass, eighty-six?”

  “Right, right.” David exhaled in relief. “Have you seen anything?”

  “No, sir, not yet. You’re out looking for her?”

  “Yes.” The policeman looked as though David had said something ridiculous. “Why? Shouldn’t I be?”

  “Of course you should, especially if you have some ideas.”

  David nodded.

  “Okay,” he said. “I just wanted to check with you. I suppose if someone had discovered something within the last hour or so, you’d have heard it on the radio.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Thanks again,” David said and started away. It wasn’t like him to be so abrupt with people, but the sight of the policeman resting so calmly on the side of the road infuriated him. “I’m losing it,” he told himself. “I’m losing it.”

  He drove on, stopping whenever he saw people by houses, stores, or automobiles who might have seen Stacey drive by. At one point he came to a small general store that kindled a hopeful hunch. The elderly couple who ran the place were friendly and eager to be of help once he explained his purpose, but they unveiled no concrete information. Both of them felt his frustration.

  “From what direction would she have come?” the old man asked. David explained the map and the route he had given Stacey. The man grew pensive for a moment and then offered a theory.

  “There are some back roads here that she might have taken, as a detour,” he said. “Of course, a resident would have had to describe them to her. A newcomer wouldn’t know enough to locate them—unless he was a good map reader.”

  “That’s not my wife.”

  “Well, then, you can do one of two things—take a left at the four corners and follow Willow all the way to Route Six or go ten miles fart
her and take Tunnel Hill. Either one would save someone a half hour or so, if they knew enough to take ’em.”

  “She wouldn’t have known enough. I gave her specific directions to follow.”

  “Someone mighta given her other ideas,” he said.

  “She’s not the kind to go off the beaten path,” David said. “But thanks.”

  The old man shrugged. “Good luck,” he said, and waved.

  When David came to the four corners described by the old man, he stopped and studied Willow Road. Something Detective Ross had said came back to him: the whole situation was unexpected, so they had to look for the unexpected. He knew Stacey wouldn’t normally take a shortcut, but…

  Impulsively, he made the turn. After he did it, he realized his impulse wasn’t such a bad move. The police were covering the main roads well; they couldn’t be expected to patrol every side road. They had other responsibilities as well. What he would do, he thought, was go all the way down Willow and then come back over Tunnel Hill, scouring both shortcuts. At least he’d be doing something worthwhile rather than sitting around a hotel room waiting for a phone call. After he’d made the circuit over the two side roads, he’d ring Chicky Ross and see if the older detective had uncovered any promising leads.

  He drove slowly, studying the long tracts of undeveloped forests and fields that unfolded around him. There had been some good rain during the early and middle portions of summer. Vegetation was heavy, and the forests were overgrown with walls of leaves. Leaving the busier highway laced with houses, stores, and garages and entering this more rural world made him feel as if he had somehow slipped back through time. He had an eerie feeling. Something was unconnected, distant, about this land, and he was an unwelcome stranger. But he felt whatever was wrong was beyond either his or the police’s ken.

  He slowed down when he spotted a small two-story house just off the road. It looked like it had recently been painted. The light blue shutters sparkled with a boldness in the noonday sun. No fencing bordered the land, but whoever had cut the lawn had done so with such geometric precision as to clearly delineate what part of the property was to be used and what parts were left to nature.