“Kingston? Is that you?” A thready voice called out from across the room.
“Heather?” Kingston called.
“Ohmigod! Thank goodness, it’s you!” Heather jumped from behind the couch. She held out her hands. “Kingston,” she called.
“I’m right here,” he said. “Follow my voice.”
“Okay,” Heather said.
Moriah rolled her eyes…Un-fucking-believable. It figures the only person they had come across was the last person she wanted to see. What were the odds? Apparently, they weren’t in her favor. She gritted her teeth while Heather clomped loudly across the room. She sounded like a cow. Typical, Moriah thought. Heather was a cow, as in mad-cow bitch.
Kingston dropped Moriah’s hand. “We’re over here,” he called. “Now be careful,” he added sweetly.
Moriah fought the urge not to vomit all over herself, and crossed her arms.
“Just a few more steps,” Kingston murmured.
She bit her lip to stop from saying something pathetic…like …What about me? It was really too dark to see but she didn’t need to see to know Kingston was hugging Heather. What the hell?
“Kingston, are you alone too?” Heather cooed out in a baby-soft voice.
The sound set Moriah’s nerves on edge even more. Where was a binky? She wanted to shove that shit in Heather’s mouth to shut up her baby talk. It was sickening. But that didn’t stop Kingston from responding in kind. His own voice normally deep, with just a hint of a raspy edge, took on an excruciatingly whining baby tone as well. Her eyes bugged from her head and she fisted her hands at her sides. She shivered. Not from fear but disgust. Gawd they were making her sick. She wanted to ask if they needed their diapers changed. She cleared her throat loudly, hoping to put an end to the nauseating baby banter.
“Heather, Moriah is here too,” Kingston said.
At least his voice sounded normal, Moriah thought.
“Oh, wonderful,” Heather said. “Hey Moriah, you’re here—great,” she called out, her disappointment clear.
Liar. “Hey, Heather,” she answered as Kingston grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly in his own. Normally she would have taken that as a secret exchange shared only between the two of them. But she felt rather than saw Kingston grab hold of Heather’s hand as well. Who knew what he was doing to her hand. Irritated she pulled her hand from his grasp and wrapped it around her waist instead. He didn’t seem to care, or notice and her chest tightened.
“Where’s everyone else?” Kingston asked Heather.
The whining-baby tone of Heather’s voice cut through the darkness. “I don’t know? When I came in I didn’t see anyone, so I came in here to hide.”
“Good thinking,” Kingston added, his voice came out sounding all babyesque as well.
Moriah felt like tossing her cookies up. Gross.
“Let’s see what we can do about that,” he cooed sweetly.
Moriah stood there as they shuffled forward. She wondered if she should just go back outside and take her chances there. Obviously, she was completely forgettable. He hadn’t even asked where she was yet. Gritting her teeth, she waited. The door opened to another room and still she waited for Kingston to call out to her, thinking he would want her closer, but it was not Kingston that asked about her at all.
“Moriah, come on,” Heather said in her screechy-witch voice. “You don’t want to be left here all alone, do you?”
Moriah made a face. She waited a beat, wanting to hear what Kingston would say to that. When nothing came from him, her heart fell a little bit more. She clenched and unclenched her hands. She was pissed and upset but she still caved. She wasn’t stupid. Being with the baby bops duo was better than being alone. At least that is what she told herself as she made her way towards the open doorway.
“Moriah, come on,” Kingston called out.
Moriah flinched. He sounded pissed. She had to wonder where her coochie coo-goo-gob-gag baby voice from Kingston was? Nooo, all she got was his irritable-dick voice. She knew it well too. “Here I come, don’t leave,” she whined, trying to sound babyish. Maybe he liked the baby talk crap.
When she finally made it out to the foyer, she could see the outline of his and Heather’s bodies shoved closely together. She walked up beside him and grabbed his arm. “What are we going to do?” she whined.
Kingston shook her hand off. “Moriah,” he sighed, sounding irritated.
“What?” she cooed, wondering if she should gurgle too and push bubbles out between her lips?
“What’s wrong with your voice?”
She cleared her throat loudly. “Sorry, I had something stuck in my throat,” she lied.
“I hope you got it out,” he said. “You sounded different.”
“Different how?” she asked and stepped closer. She was waiting for him to say she sounded cute or that maybe he wanted her to do it more. Maybe he liked it.
“I don’t know, you kind of sounded like Mable.”
“Mable?”
“You know,” he laughed. “Mrs. Jenkins bratty little daughter–the one that farts all the time.” He laughed even harder.
Heather laughed too.
Ohmigod! Seriously? She wanted to smack him right in his face. Instead, she ground her teeth together and balled her hands into fists. She was so mad she could spit and probably should, right in his and Heather’s stupid laughing faces.
44-BITTEN
“Chance!” I tensed. “What are you doing?” The wall shook as the library door slammed shut again.
“I think something is out there,” Chance said eerily.
Even from a distance I could tell how freaked he was. “Chance, if something is out there, then why are you opening the door and slamming it shut?”
Chance gave me a confused look.
“You’re letting whatever is out there—know we’re in here,” I explained.
“I swear,” he said. “There is something out there this time.”
“Come on, Chance, knock it off.” I shivered in spite of my brave front. “It’s probably just the wind.” I wasn’t sure if I believed him or not. He was like the little boy who cried wolf…but then again, the boy was right on one count, wasn’t he?
Chance peeked out the door again and his eyes widened. “Nope, not wind.” He shut the door again.
“Well?” I crossed my arms and gave him what I hoped was a reproving look. “What is it then?”
“I’m not sure.”
A jolt of fear shot through me. His eyes looked crazed, just like the guy in the tighty-whities had been.
Normally, Barnaby never paid too much attention to Chance. He freaked about everything. Usually a random bug or flying bird he somehow never noticed before. But this wasn’t his normal doped-up response. “Come on, Chance,” Barnaby said. “Stop messing around.” He walked across the room toward the door.
“Man,” Chance said. “I think I’m seeing things.” If possible his eyes were even wider than before.
Barnaby froze. He knew that look…fear. Colton had the same look on his face when he pointed out the Cujo-looking dog. His heart dropped and his blood ran cold. “Oh Shit”!
Colton turned and saw Chance’s expression. “Oh, hell no!” He scrambled down from the ladder. He knew that look. In one fluid motion, he was across the room. He took the stairs two at a time and climbed up the spiral staircase to the second level.
I gnashed my teeth together determined to put an end to his foolishness once and for all. “Move, Chance!” I pushed him out of the way and jerked the door open. “Ahhhhhhhhh!” I screamed and slammed the door shut.
Barnaby flew across the room, headed for the spiral staircase.
“I told you something was out there.” Chance pressed his hands on the door, giving me an, I told you so look.
“Sorry,” I gritted, using all my strength to keep the door shut.
The door bumped against us.
“I told you.” Chance gave me another glare for good measu
re, which irked me.
The door bucked against us again.
“Shit! I can’t hold it shut!” Chance pressed his body to the door. “Evie…” He looked over his shoulder.
“I’m here.” I pushed harder. It wasn’t working. Fear constricted my breathing but I still pushed as hard as I could. “Barnaby…” The door thumped against my back. The handle jabbed into my back and I flinched in pain.
Clearly torn, Barnaby stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Evie…”
“Don’t do it man—save yourself,” Colton wailed from above.
“What the hell, Colton?” I shouted.
“Sorry Edie. Barnaby is my friend.”
Anger quickly replaced fear. “My name is Evie—asshole!” I pushed even harder. The door clicked shut this time. “Chance, lock the door.” My breath came out in rushed hitches. “Chance?” I looked over my shoulder but he wasn’t beside me any longer.
“Sorry, Evie.”
Now I was alone. The bottoms of my shoes squeaked against the tiles as I was shoved slowly forward.
It was a losing battle.
45-DESERTION
Wasn’t desertion a crime?
The room was stoically silent after the door debacle. Silently fuming, I glared over at each of the offenders. Crossing my arms, I leaned against the desk. The burled pattern of the wood was barely visible under the stacks of books that littered the top. Thank God, the ‘IT’ Chance had been talking about had turned out to be human—Kingston, Moriah, and Heather to be exact. But still…what if it had been something else—something terrible. I glared over at the offenders again. Of course, I expected that type of behavior from Colton, and even Chance would get a pass—he tried to help…but Barnaby? That one hurt a little more than I thought it would. I didn’t figure him for a deserter. Apparently, I had figured wrong.
Staccato footsteps cascaded down the stairs and into the foyer.
This time I didn’t even bother trying to get to the door. Scrambling around the desk, I headed straight for the window.
Barnaby was in front of the window, blocking me.
“Move!” I pushed against him.
“No.” He pushed back.
I gaped at Barnaby.
“I can’t get the window open,” Barnaby explained.
Narrowing my eyes, I shoved up beside him. Pressing my hands on the glass, I tried to slide it upward. “Come on!”
Of course…the window was stuck.
Releasing the window, I looked for something to hurl through the glass. A few feet away I spotted a bust of some historical figure on a pedestal. I could swear it was mocking me. “Oh, screw you,” I muttered and grabbed it up. Tucking the bust under my arm like a football, I ran back to the window. Just as I was about to hurl it through the glass, Brianna and Addison came screeching into the room, their bright eyes bulging like they had seen a ghost.
“Ladies, ladies, calm down,” Colton said with an authoritative tone and strutted over to them like a glorified peacock.
My body tensed. Oh, so now he was Mister Calm, Cool and Collected, acting like a CSI agent. What happened to that guy earlier when I could have used some help?
No, he ran as fast as he could. Jerk. I was tempted to throw the statue at Colton but instead placed it back on the pedestal.
“Well thanks…ah…” I glanced down at the name on the bottom of the bust… “Ponce de León….why do you sound so familiar?” I looked around the room, trying to jar my memory and noticed the stack of books on the desk.
Now, I remembered where I had seen his name. It was in one of the books. I patted his smooth head and then walked back over to the desk. There were several books actually, on explorers. Christopher Columbus, Ferdinand Magellan, Hernan Cortes, Lewis & Clark, John Smith, Vasco da Gama, Jacques Cartier, Sacagawea, and Henry Hudson, to name a few. Sorting through the books, I found the one I was looking for about Juan Ponce de Leon and opened it up.
“So Ponce, what were you famous for?” Flipping a few of the yellowed pages, I skimmed over the text. “The Spanish conquistador and explorer Juan Ponce de León and the legendary fountain of youth have been linked to one another to this day.”
A memory of my old gym teacher from high school, Coach Gibbs and his abnormally gorgeous face and sublime physique, popped into my mind. He looked like a student. Actually, for most of the year I thought he was a college student, maybe earning some extra credits or something. Then one day, near the end of school, I entered through the side door of the office to return one of the overhead projectors to the supply room, and walked right in on the Principle serenading Coach Gibbs with a “Happy Birthday” song. Except this was obviously a rehearsed version because she was really taking it to another level. It was like when Marilyn Monroe sang Happy Birthday to JFK. The way she sang the song was full of unsaid innuendos, like she was going to jump his bones or something, and he didn’t seem adverse to it, either.
I hung out in the background, not able drop off the projector until the song was finished. When I saw the big Five O on his cake, I almost fell over!
“Margie, err, Principle Levinson, is that a joke?” I asked and pointed at the smoking candles on top of a triple-layered chocolate cake.
“Nathan’s age?” Margie asked absently, never taking her eyes off the man in question.
“Nathan?” I stared. “Oh right, Coach Gibbs. Is that his real age?” It had to be a joke.
“Oh yes,” Margie breathed, and gave his body a long, lingering stroke with her eyes.
“He looks really young for his age,” I told her.
“Oh yes!” Margie gasped, like she was about to have an orgasm. “It’s his youthful vigor.”
I took a step back and looked at buttoned-up Levinson with new eyes. Apparently, she was a freak under her bookish outward demeanor with her sensible, short brown haircut, thick tortoise-shell glasses, putrid colored sweater and skirt choices, along with her sole-squeaking, orthopedic, earth-mama shoes. She had us all fooled.
“I will be helping him release his youthful vigor tonight…anywhere he wants it,” she confided and ran her unusually large man-looking hand over her perky bottom.
Eww. Eww. Eww. I felt sick.
Turning suddenly, Margie gave me an odd look. “You waiting for some cake?” she asked, sounding too sweet and narrowed her eyes.
“No,” I croaked. “Gotta get back to class.” I broke into a fast-paced walk toward the door.
“Ms. Harrington,” Margie called out once more. This time she sounded more like a chirping bird, a very singsongish tone to her voice. I didn’t know why but it scared the hell out of me.
“Yeah, Principle Levinson?” I slowly turned around, on the verge of having a crap fit.
“Aren’t you going to put that projector away?”
Shoot! “Right,” I said. “On it.” I grabbed the cart and whizzed past Margie and the rest of the office gals, who all looked a bit too glassy-eyed, swarming around Coach Gibbs like they were stalking prey and he was just that…their prey.
“Evie?” Barnaby snapped his fingers.
I blinked as my mind came back to the present. “Yeah?” I feigned disinterest, remembering a bit too clearly his desertion earlier.
“You looked like you were a million miles away.”
“Yeah, just thinking,” I said. Nervously, I flipped the pages of the World Almanac of Explorers back and forth.
“Ahem,” he cleared his throat. “I ah, wanted to come over and say sorry for leaving you high and dry and all. I don’t know why I did that.”
“Oh…whatever.” I waved my hand dismissively. “It’s over and done with now so…” I dropped my eyes back to the page but the words blurred.
Barnaby rubbed his face and sighed. “Evie…” he began.
“Hmm?” It was all I could manage. I felt like I was going to cry. Stupid dumb tears, they always pulled that shit when I least expected them to show up, which sucked cuz somehow I never managed to cry when I actually should be crying. Ap
parently my tear ducks were broken…like the rest of me.
“I want you to know…” He took a breath. “I won’t do that again…okay?”
“Sure, sure—whatever.” I swiped my eyes with my sleeve.
“Are you crying?”
I laughed. It sounded fake. “What?” I shook my head vehemently. “Puh-lease, how stupid would I be…right. It’s these stinky books.” I made a face. “They really mess with my allergies.”
“I’m serious though,” he said. “I promise I won’t leave you again.”
I gave him a doubtful look. “Well let’s hope we won’t have to find out.” I tried to smile but it was forced.
“Hey, Barnaby,” Colton called.
Barnaby tensed. “What?”
“C’mere, I got to show you something.”
Barnaby rolled his eyes. “We good?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure,” I said, lying.
“Barnnaaaaaahby,” Colton singsonged.
He leaned down and looked at me pointedly. “You sure we’re okay?”
“Yep. Positive.” No, we’re not.
“I better go see what he wants.”
“Yeah, okay.”
He gave me a small smile and walked away.
My chest tightened a little.
46-ODDITIES & ABSURDITIES
The back of the room smelled like wet dog. Barnaby wrinkled his nose and walked behind the wrought-iron staircase to the alcove underneath. It was pretty dark since the balcony to the second level protruded out about ten feet or so above.
“See this?” Colton stood with his arms crossed.
Barnaby walked closer and the smell of wet dog and turd became even more prevalent. “Gross dude, what is that smell?”
Colton turned and shrugged. “I don’t smell anything.”
“Did you step in something?”
Colton lifted his shoes and checked the soles. “Nah, they’re clean. See.” He lifted his leg up and showed him the bottom of his shoe.
Briarcliff Page 18
