Skellyman

by Rie Sheridan Rose

  His hand brushed her cheek.

  “It’s all in the job,” he said softly.

  “Policeman?”

  He shook his head.

  “Friend.”

  Brenda smiled up at him tentatively. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him he was becoming more than that—but just then Penny brought Daisy out of the classroom.

  “Look, Mama!” Daisy cried, holding up a drawing of costumed figures—chief among them a golden-haired princess with a skull for a face. “It’s my Hallyween costume!”

  Then a frown bloomed on her little face. “Why’re you here, Mama?”

  Brenda knelt beside her.

  “I-I thought maybe you and I would go to lunch.”

  Daisy’s lip poked out. “But it’s a school day. We’re reading a story about skellymens this afternoon.”

  The declaration did not make Brenda less determined.

  “Well, maybe Mrs. Castillo will let me borrow the story so I can read it to you later.”

  Daisy’s face brightened.

  “Okay. If you promise. Can we have hot dogs for lunch?”

  Phillip placed a hand on Daisy’s shoulder. “If that’s what you want, little bit. But are you sure you wouldn’t like something different for a change?”

  Daisy screwed up her little face and thought hard.

  “What about roamin’ noodles?” she suggested.

  “What was that, sweetie?” Brenda asked fondly.

  “Roamin’ noodles. Robbie says the skellyman eats a lot of roamin’ noodles. I want to eat what the skellyman eats.”

  Brenda paled. After her dream of Robbie, the casual reference to him as if he were still available to talk to make her skin crawl. No matter what Elise Fairbanks said, this couldn’t be good for Daisy.

  “When did Robbie tell you this?”

  “Last night. Bones woke me up, and I sawed Robbie sitting on my bed. He said he’d tried to talk to you, but you wouldn’t listen to him. Why wouldn’t you listen, Mama? He says he needs to talk to you real bad.”

  Brenda shook her head in negation, frightened by her own child. The intensity of Daisy’s earnest little voice made it all sound so plausible…but if she gave in and accepted it, she’d go mad.

  Phillip squatted beside Daisy.

  “Sweetheart, you remember Robbie’s dead, don’t you?” he asked softly, his glance cutting over to Brenda.

  Daisy nodded emphatically.

  “Uh, huh. Dead and in the boneyard. That’s how come he knows all about the skellyman. He knows everything now, ’cause he’s a ghost.”

  The word had finally been said aloud.

  Chapter 56

  It was definitely time to move. Even though the police had been less than thorough about searching his place, it had made an impression. He was bound to be a person of interest in Candy’s murder. He knew his alibi was ridiculous. He was surprised they hadn’t dragged him down to the station already.

  It isn’t safe here anymore. I won’t be able to complete my grand design if I’m locked up in jail somewhere.

  It was time to go house-hunting.

  The skellyman pulled the wad of bills from under the mattress where he had stashed it. He counted through it again swiftly. $5,324 in total—should be able to do something with that.

  He stuffed the cash deep in the pocket of his pants and pulled on his jacket. He needed a new headquarters before nightfall, so he’d better get a move on.

  On his way past his desk, he picked up the envelope of pictures and stuck it inside his jacket. The first thing he would do in his new apartment would be to re-hang the wall of photos. There wasn’t anything else in the room that he needed. He’d replace the clothing with a trip to a thrift store, and nothing else was worth carting around.

  The day was crisp and cool, with a definite hint of winter in the wind. He raised his head and sniffed at the wind like a hunting dog. Not long now. Soon it will be time.

  He thought for a moment. He knew where the Angel went to school, and where the Castillo Bed and Breakfast was…perhaps something between the two, where he would be able to veer either way as chance dictated.

  The thought appealed to him. He knew the Bitch was staying at that Castillo woman’s house—he was surprised it wasn’t at the Parents’, but only the Angel was staying there. Probably didn’t want to deal with that harridan’s rules…

  He wished her hiding place was a little closer to the school…it would make things easier in the end. But there was time yet.

  Strolling through the mid-morning streets felt odd. He’d been a night owl lately, mostly sleeping by day and causing mischief by dark.

  The skellyman liked the dark—the shadows so handy for hiding in; the quiet of midnight. By daylight, things were so bright and banal. But at least you could see where you were going.

  He thought about doing it the easy way—buying a newspaper and searching the rooms to let ads—but that wouldn’t be any fun. So instead, he wandered through the neighborhoods in his preferred part of town, looking for a sign in a window, a cluster of reasonably-priced apartments, something would catch his eye.

  The skellyman began to whistle tunelessly as he strode along. It was a habit he’d had all his life. He’d never been able to carry a tune—much as he’d always wished to.

  Yeah, at one time he’d dreamed of being a rock star, just like he’d once dreamed of being a pro tennis player, and then a fireman. But my gifts lay elsewhere.

  Sometimes, he wished he’d stuck it out in medical school. It had been fun—especially cutting up the cadavers…though they didn’t scream like the live ones did. Maybe he had more fun now, after all.

  The skellyman turned down another side street. This neighborhood was a bit scruffier than the ones he’d been looking at so far, but—on the other hand, it was a huge step up from Wanda’s Flop Shop. There was a rundown apartment complex at the end of the street, and it had a “Vacancy” sign in the grimy office window.

  He opened the front door of the office, and a bell jingled overhead.

  “Yeah?” called a voice from the back room.

  “I’d like to talk to you about an apartment,” the skellyman answered.

  “Be right there.”

  He spent his time waiting by looking around the office. It was cluttered, but neat. There was a bulletin board on one wall with note cards offering furniture and appliances for sale or asking for rides for the upcoming holidays. This could prove very interesting…

  “So, you thinking about joining us?” Head cocked to one side, the manager stood in the doorway to the back room, leaning on the jamb, arms folded across chest.

  The person before him had skin the color of mahogany, and tight black curls cropped close to the skull. Androgynous in appearance, the skellyman couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. He found this extremely intriguing. Here is someone it might be worth dissecting…

  But he put the thought aside, holding out his hand.

  “Tom Brown.” It wasn’t until after the name had left his mouth that he realized he should have come up with a new alias for his new home. Ah well, too late.

  “Terry Bishop,” replied the manager, taking his hand in a firm grip. The name and handclasp still shed no light on Terry’s sex. “I’ve got two units currently—one front first, and one rear second. What’s your preference?”

  “What’s your price?” he asked smoothly, the ghost of a grin crossing his face. He liked Terry. He might let it live for a while.

  “Sorry. Still getting used to this gig. Never expected to be running no apartment complex. This wasn’t what I trained for. Munitions is more my style.” Terry grinned back, teeth white in the brown face.

  “You were in the service?”

  “Just got back.” Terry stepped behind the desk. “The units run the same per month, so whichever you want is cool with me. Rent’s $600 a month. One bedroom, but a nice size living area. Kitchen, full bath. Cable and gas included, but you’ll need your own electric and pho
ne. Other tenants say electric runs about fifty or so a month, and phone…well, you don’t have to have one of those if you don’t wanna.”

  The skellyman hesitated. The thought of dealing with the electric company might be a deal breaker. He wanted as little contact with authority as possible…

  Terry glanced both ways, as if expecting someone to pop out of the woodwork. “Listen,” the manager said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Them apartments are currently still on the complex’s electric bill. You want to pay me an extra fifty a month—I’ll keep it that way. I like the look of you. Dunno why.”

  Ah, a kindred spirit. The skellyman grinned.

  Terry leaned back in the chair, arms crossed again. “We got a deal?”

  The skellyman chuckled.

  “Sure, why not?” He laid $750 on the desk. “One month’s rent, one month’s electric—and a little something for you if that’s all I need to lay down.”

  Terry winked.

  “You got it, boss. Now, you decide which unit you want?”

  The skellyman weighed the options. The first floor was preferable for ease of access, but a unit in the rear of the building had its own charms.

  “I’ll take the rear.”

  “All yours.” Terry reached into the drawer of the desk and tossed him a key. “It’s #215. Need help moving stuff in?”

  “Not right now. I was just looking at the moment. But this deal’s too good to pass up. I’ll bring things along later.”

  “Well, if you want to go up and give it a look, feel free. It’s all yours now. There’re still a few pieces of furniture and some house-wares left from the previous tenant. I didn’t have anything else to do with them, so consider them yours.”

  The skellyman nodded.

  “Thanks. I’ll check it out.”

  “I’m in #106 if you need any help later.” Terry pocketed the extra hundred and began to make notes in a ledger.

  The skellyman felt a surge of anger at being dismissed, but forced his temper down. Sure, it was better than Wanda’s incessant chatter and condescension, but it still rankled.

  It wouldn’t do to destroy this newfound relationship so soon. However, if Terry continued to be disrespectful toward him, he might have to change his mind.

  He left the office and followed the cracked sidewalk to the rear of the building. The rickety staircase was painted in rust, not pigment. It ended directly outside unit #215. That might come in handy.

  He tried the key in the door. It was difficult to turn, but he managed it with a little jiggling in the lock.

  The apartment was filled with stale air and dust motes. A puke-green sofa sat askew in the large living room. There was a lopsided coffee table in front of it. It wasn’t much, but it was better than the shit furniture in his current room. And there’s a bedroom besides? Heaven!

  The kitchen was on the other side of a half wall fronted by a bar. There was a refrigerator, a full stove and a small pantry. The cabinets contained two or three place settings of chipped dishes. In the drawer beside the sink he found several sharp knives. A plus indeed.

  He opened the three doors leading off the living area. One led to a closet with a moth-eaten jacket hanging on a dry-cleaning hanger. One led to a bathroom tiled in baby blue with rose pink trim. He made a face—not the color scheme he would have chosen, but it would do.

  The third door opened on a bedroom with a single bed and an empty particle board dresser. There was a large window overlooking the rear of the complex, and a tree grew close enough to touch from the casement. Its branches were thick and sturdy.

  It looked like it could hold his weight if necessary. He nodded to himself. That might also come in very handy.

  Yes, this place would do quite nicely. It was a palace compared to his room at Wanda’s place. He’d told Terry he’d be bringing in more stuff, but looking around the place just cemented his decision not to return for his remaining things.

  This was a much better base of operations than the hotel had ever been. The roach motel had been sub-divided into rooms with sheets of half inch plywood. These walls had to be better than that.

  Maybe he’d splurge for a television. That would help mask the noise of his playtime.

  Screams can be so annoying. But the screams are half the fun. Without them, the game wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying.

  Chapter 57

  It was so frustrating. He had figured out what he needed to tell Mom now…but she just wouldn’t listen to him. It was important she know who the skellyman was.

  It would really freak her out. He didn’t like thinking about it himself. It was a terrible burden to carry. And trying to tell Daisy hadn’t worked at all. Why had Grammy come in just then?

  Robbie felt so old—and yet he would be forever twelve. It was crazy. There was so much he knew now that he was dead. Stuff he would never have learned till years from now if he was alive.

  He knew where babies come from…yuck. He knew what happened when you died…boring. He knew love was the one force that never died—and it had brought him back here to try and warn Mom and Daisy.

  He drifted through the streets, quite used to it now. He wished he could still play ball, but other than that, being bodiless wasn’t too bad. And if he concentrated, he could become visible for a few minutes. If he concentrated really hard, he could touch things.

  So, he was saving up his energy right now. Because tonight, he was going to talk to Mom…if it killed her.

  No. Not really. No matter what happened, he wouldn’t hurt Mom. Or Daisy. But the skellyman would.

  The skellyman was crazy. Maybe he had always been nuts. He hadn’t seemed like it…but he could be really good at pretending.

  Robbie remembered that day as if it were yesterday—of course, to him, all days were yesterday, and today, and tomorrow. But that day…it had been like any other, when it started.

  He had to run to catch the bus. He was always oversleeping. That day was no exception. He’d been in such a rush, he’d left behind his hat and gloves. It was the last day of school before Christmas break.

  He’d been excited. Dad was picking him up after school so he could go Christmas shopping. It was the first time he was getting to pick out his own gifts for Mom and Daisy, and he had saved fifty whole dollars all by himself.

  He remembered seeing the convertible drive up. It was so cool! He didn’t get to ride in the convertible very often. It made him feel really grown up. It would be cold, but it would be worth it! Top-down tripping…

  He got into the car, throwing his book bag in the back seat.

  “Hi, Dad!”

  “So, sport, where do you want to go?”

  He’d been thinking about it for days. Fifty bucks had taken him six months to save, but it wasn’t a lot in the real world. He figured if they went to the mall, he could look for something at the toy store there for Daisy, and whatever was left he could spend on Mom.

  “The mall.”

  “If that’s what you want.” Ethan pulled the car out of the school parking lot and they were off.

  Halfway to the mall, it started to snow. The roads got slicker and slicker. Dad stopped chatting, turned off the radio, got all serious…but for some reason, he still didn’t put up the top. Robbie found himself shivering uncontrollably, really wishing for his hat and gloves.

  The mood inside the car got tense. Then…something happened.

  He needed to remember what. It was important. It would help him convince his mom of the truth, if he could only remember…

  Chapter 58

  “I don’t know what to do, Elise,” Brenda said into the phone, pacing the room with agitated steps. “She came right out and said she’s seen her brother’s ghost. Is that still normal? Does this still fall into the category of ‘invisible playmate’? This has me really worried.”

  The therapist’s voice was calm and placating.

  “It’s perfectly natural for you to feel this fear and confusion, Brenda. After all, Robbie’s dea
d, and having Daisy obsessing about him like this can’t be easy to handle. On the other hand, yes—it’s still perfectly normal for her to pretend his ghost is visiting her. It’s a way for her to transition into the reality of completely letting go.”

  “What if it’s starting to rub off on me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Brenda ran a hand back through her hair—it was beginning to look like a hayfield after a windstorm.

  “I-I had a dream last night. I could’ve sworn I felt Robbie tugging on my sleeve. He was trying to tell me something. It was as if he was really standing there beside my bed.”

  “But you recognize it was a dream. That’s the difference between you and Daisy. You’re an adult, and you can process the truth on a higher level than she can.”

  Once, the words would have calmed Brenda down, made her feel rational and adult. Now, they irritated her.

  “You don’t understand, Elise! Daisy said her brother told her he was trying to tell me something. I certainly hadn’t told her about my dream. How could she have known that?”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that, Brenda. Maybe she wanted to connect you to her fantasy, like…playing house together.”

  Maybe Elise isn’t the right person to consult this time. I need help all right, but I don’t think she’s grasping the situation.

  “Okay. Okay, you’re probably right. Sorry to bother you. See you next week.”

  As she hit the disconnect button, she could hear Elise’s, “Brenda, wai—” but ignored it. She dialed Phillip’s cell phone number—glad she had remembered to program it into the phone after not having it last time she needed it.

  “Sanchez.”

  Even the sound of his name made her feel safer. If anyone can help me figure out what is happening in my crazy, mixed-up world, it’s Phillip.

  “Hi, it’s Brenda. I need to talk to you,” she blurted into the phone.

  “Sure, hun. What’s the matter?”

  “It’s just…everything. I want to talk some more about what Daisy said at the school. Are you on duty?”