The Ferryman

by Christopher Golden

“Is anyone in there?” Ruth asked, her voice a bit raspy from unuse.

  Only the baby’s cries in response.

  She stepped into the barn.

  The crying stopped.

  CHAPTER 11

  By late Tuesday morning, the anxiety caused by the accident—a word that David doubted would ever quite fit in his mind—had receded somewhat. His scratches had begun to heal, the insurance company had agreed that the car was totaled, and he had even allowed himself to begin thinking about what he was going to buy to replace it.

  Thoughts of shopping for a new car and the conversation he had had with Father Charles the previous morning gave way, as almost everything did of late, to thoughts of Janine. David was not blind. He had been aware on Sunday that she seemed almost as remote and contemplative as he did, even more so in some ways. But they both had plenty of reason; the car accident and the mystery of Spencer’s murder, and his activities before the killing, were enough to ruin anybody’s week, month, maybe even year.

  David was not going to let it get that far. When he had spoken to her on Monday morning and found Janine still in that melancholy state, he had talked to Annette about it. With the wild, disturbing things going on in his own head, he thought it would be better if Annette tried to cheer her up. Annette had instantly agreed, as he had known she would.

  Now he stood in the cafeteria just before the first lunch period bell rang and waited for sight of her. Since Ralph Weiss’s death, the lunch monitor schedule had been jumbled around quite a bit. David and Annette did the first lunch period together.

  The bell rang. A low rumble of voices and laughter and a stampede of feet began to rattle the corridors out in the main school. Moments later, the first of the students began to spill into the room. Behind the counter, a trio of women who reminded him of Shakespeare’s witches—the maiden, the matron, and the crone—prepared to serve up heaping helpings of mystery stew or processed stuffed manicotti.

  Annette walked in five minutes after lunch had started. Dozens of students were already seated, digging into their meals as though they were unaware that it was awful, tasteless fare.

  He greeted her with a hesitant smile. “Good morning, Miss Muscari,” he said in his teacher voice.

  “Good morning, Mr. Bairstow,” she replied in hers.

  It was a familiar bit of sarcasm for both of them, but it seemed weak that day.

  “So, how did it go with Janine last night? I talked to her this morning and she seemed ... I don’t know, brighter. Like she was all there. I think you really cheered her up.”

  Annette nodded. She glanced around at the tables, at the line of students still waiting for meals. There was a gravity to her expression that made him uncomfortable, but also somehow reassured him.

  “You should talk to her, David,” she said, her voice low. “I’ll be blunt, because I care about both of you. She wants us all to think that she’s dealing with having lost this baby, but I think she’s really just pretending. Now this thing with Spencer ... I told her I thought she should see somebody, a professional, someone she could talk to without feeling inhibited. All this grief and death, it’s haunting her, giving her nightmares.”

  A trio of freshman girls walked by, and one of them glanced at Annette and whispered something to the others. They giggled behind their hands and Annette pretended not to notice. She had always amazed David that way. There was certainly plenty of gossip about her amongst the students, but she took their childishness in stride.

  Then he noticed one of them staring at him, as well. A sly, knowing smile reached the girl’s lips and David blinked and looked away. High school kids flirted with their teachers. It happened every day. But he would never get used to it.

  Annette glanced around again, taking pains to make sure their conversation was private. With the girls settled at a table, they could speak again.

  “Until she resolves all this, you two don’t have a chance. She’s got to get through the things that are haunting her before she can really dedicate herself mentally to the idea of a real relationship.”

  Haunting her, David thought. The irony of Annette’s choice of words chilled him.

  His mind began to wander, and his gaze to rove across the gathered students. Annette tapped him on the arm. When he turned to look at her again, her expression was intense.

  “You need to talk to her, David.This crash thing is making you just as remote as her grief is making her. All of a sudden you guys are not communicating.Time to start.”

  He nodded slowly.

  “You get it?” she prodded.

  “I get it,” he agreed.

  “Good,” she said, nodding with satisfaction. “So what time tonight?”

  He blinked. “I’m sorry?”

  The cafeteria was filled with the almost ear-shattering chatter of over a hundred students. At one table, a group of boys threw rolls and bits of stew meat at each other. In a moment he’d have to go over and break it up. David noticed that his tie was skewed, and as he gazed at Annette, trying to make sense of what she was saying, he straightened it.

  “Tonight?” she said. “You talked to Janine this morning, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “But she didn’t mention tonight?”

  He offered his most baffled look.

  Annette sighed. “I made plans with her last night for Jill and me to take you two out to dinner at the Harlequin tonight.”

  A chill went through David; his face went a bit slack. “Oh.”

  “Oh? What’s that all about?”

  Annette was clearly hurt, and David tried his best to smile. A picture of Jill—really an image of long-dead Maggie Russell—appeared in his mind, and he knew that his smile must look forced. He was a rational man. No matter how creepy it was, no matter how sure he sounded when he talked to Father Charles about it, in the back of his mind he knew that Jill’s resemblance to Maggie had to be nothing more than coincidence. But it was an uncanny resemblance, more like twins than even mother and daughter, and it spooked him.

  “Nothing,” he said quickly. “No, I’m just ... we had talked about a quiet night at home tonight. But, y’know, with what you were just saying it would probably be really good for us to get out.”

  “How can you not like her, David?” Annette said. “She’s sweet, and cute, and smart, and all she wants is for my friends to like her. It’s all I want, too.”

  Her voice was as close to pleading as he had ever heard it. He felt guilty for having hurt her.

  “Hey, Elf, it isn’t like that,” he began. A temptation rose in him to just tell her, to explain why being near Jill unnerved him so. But then he realized that no matter how he phrased it, “Your girlfriend gives me the creeps” was the last thing Annette needed to hear.

  “I’m a little freaked out by how young she is,” he lied. “She seems really sweet. It’ll take some getting used to, but once we get to know her, I’m sure we’ll love her, okay? What time tonight?”

  With a flicker of a smile, the familiar sparkle returned to Annette’s eyes. She tucked an errant lock of hair, the same one that always seemed to get loose, behind her ear.

  “You swear?”

  “I swear.”

  “Good, ’cause, y’know, if you guys didn’t like her, I could never be happy with her,” Annette said.

  David’s stomach dropped. He hated to lie, hated to pretend in any way. Annette was not always so open, so vulnerable, but he knew that she spoke the truth. If he and Janine said, “Stay away from this girl,” Annette would. They were her best friends, and she trusted their opinions and instincts.

  “It’ll be great. What time?” he asked.

  Though, inside, even the thought of seeing her again filled him with trepidation and a creeping sort of dread that would linger for the rest of the day.

  The Harlequin was a European restaurant that offered a nicely varied menu of dishes culled from across Europe, with a dash of individuality from the chef who had created the menu in the first pla
ce. Apparently the owner had chosen the name and décor as testament to her love of clowns and jesters, so that the walls were festooned with photographs, paintings, carnival masks, and circus posters from various nations.

  Janine was terrified of clowns, but by some perverse logic, she loved the place. It was almost impossible not to be cheered by their surroundings. She wondered if that had been Annette’s intention in suggesting it.

  If so, she doubted it would work.

  From the moment David had picked her up in the rental Ford the insurance company had provided to him, the atmosphere between them had been heavy and ominous, as though some invisible force were driving them apart. He smiled at her, said all the right things, kissed her on the sidewalk before they went into the restaurant, but there was a sort of forced quality about it that tainted everything.

  Yet David was not the only guilty party. Janine also felt a certain reserve. She was troubled, and it seemed that Annette had been correct. In attempting to keep her anxieties to herself, she might have been cluttering up her relationship with David rather than keeping it clear of debris, as had been her intention.

  I’ll talk to him, she vowed as they walked into the Harlequin. And I’ll find a shrink, too, if that’s what it takes.

  Life had battered her, of late, but somehow she managed to keep getting back up again after being knocked down. Even that, though, had been mere survival. Now it was time to fight back, to seize control.

  Which was all well and good for her, but even if she succeeded, it would solve only half the problem. That faraway look that had been in David’s eyes the past few days would have to be dealt with as well.

  The hostess informed them that the rest of their party had already been seated. The warm atmosphere of the restaurant, its bright colors and calliope music, the wonderful old posters, all combined to lift Janine’s spirits just a little.

  “There they are!” she said happily.

  The hostess, menus in hand, led them toward the table. Jill wore a light cotton dress with a lavender floral pattern. With her hair curled and her makeup just so, she looked far more mature than Janine remembered her from the party. Jill had a hip, edgy style that she seemed, at least for tonight, to have abandoned completely. Annette, on the other hand, wore a black suit whose jacket hung halfway to her knees, a modern cut that might have seemed severe on another woman, but which was cute and sexy on her. They looked good together, not only in the sense that they seemed to fit in some way, but in that they appeared happy and content.

  Annette saw them first, and waved.

  Janine reached out to take David’s hand, to lead him to the table, but he hesitated a moment, hung back.

  With a frown she turned to look at him. His face was so pale she worried that he might be sick.

  “What’s wrong? Don’t you feel well?”

  “I’ll be all right,” he promised.“Just a little oogy all of a sudden. I’m going to hit the men’s room, okay? I’ll be right back.”

  For a moment, she watched him as he weaved through tables toward the back of the restaurant. David glanced at Annette and Jill, then quickly looked away.

  “Is he all right?” Annette asked when Janine sat down at the table.

  “He’s not feeling well suddenly,” she replied with a small shrug.

  Jill smiled warmly.“I hope he feels well enough to eat. Annette tells me the food here is great.”

  Their waitress appeared then, as if on cue, to see if Janine wanted a drink. Janine glanced at the table and saw that neither of the other women was drinking alcohol. She hesitated, then laughed softly.

  “Y’know what, I could really use a drink. Rum and Coke, please.”

  The other two laughed easily with her, but Janine noticed that Jill reached for Annette’s hand on the table and held it almost protectively. Though she had never been overly concerned about public reaction to displays of affection between herself and a girlfriend, Annette’s gaze flicked self-consciously toward Jill, then back to Janine.

  “So,” Annette ventured, “are you feeling better today?”

  “Much. In fact, I think I’m going to take your advice.”

  Satisfied, Annette relaxed back into her chair a bit. She still held Jill’s hand, but now their grasp was hidden from direct view by the table.

  “See? I don’t know why my friends can’t make things simpler, and just follow my wise counsel.”

  “You mean obey your commands, Queenie?” Janine teased.

  Jill slid a bit closer to her lover. “I think I like the sound of that.”

  Annette blushed a bit. Her ears turned red. Janine was amazed, for she did not remember ever having seen her friend blush before.

  “So you slept all right, then?” Annette asked, in an obvious gambit to change the subject.

  “No dreams, good or bad, that I can remember,” Janine confirmed. It was true. She had slept soundly the previous night and woke feeling more refreshed than she had in a very long time, perhaps since before she had become pregnant in the first place.

  David arrived at the table a moment later.Though he greeted Annette warmly enough, and was polite to Jill, he was still a bit pale. After they had ordered their meals, he was uncharacteristically quiet and spoke only when spoken to. Janine did her best to keep the conversation going, but Annette and Jill clearly noticed his reticence, and she imagined they were as uncomfortable as she was.

  When the food arrived, David barely picked at his shrimp Creole. He ate a little bit, then prodded at what remained as if testing to see if it were still alive.

  In the midst of a story Annette was telling about a gay freshman girl she was counseling, David cleared his throat and interrupted.

  “So, Jill, I don’t remember if Annette told me where you went to school,” he said, his voice a bit jittery.

  His face had grown even paler.

  A sweet smile fluttered across Jill’s face. She seemed pleased that he had become a bit more animated, that he had addressed her at all.

  “I went to Suffolk,” she said. “I’m thinking about going on to law school, but I haven’t quite decided yet.”

  “What are you doing for work in the meantime?” David asked.

  Janine flinched. It was less a question than it was a demand for information. She glanced at Annette and saw a flicker of anger in her friend’s eyes. David was interrogating her girlfriend. Janine did not blame Annette for being mad. Then again, Annette had no idea that her girlfriend bore a disturbing resemblance to another girl, long dead.

  Though she had been aware that the resemblance spooked David, Janine had thought he was over it. It was odd, sure, but certainly did not warrant the way he had been behaving tonight. If his preoccupation this evening was that and nothing more, Janine was going to be pretty pissed at him later.

  Jill, for her part, did not seem bothered by David’s manner at all.

  “I’m working as a receptionist for a software company in Harvard Square,” she said. “Not something I’ll put on the résumé, but it’s an income while I’m trying to figure out what’s next.”

  Janine forced a smile.“Take your time, Jill. Figure out what you really want to do. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”

  The legs of his chair squeaked on the floor as David slid back from the table and stood up. He looked worse than ever.

  “Excuse me. I ... I’m really not feeling well.”

  He rushed off toward the rest rooms again. Janine glanced at Annette, afraid that she might still be angry. Instead of anger, however, she saw only confusion and concern.

  A few minutes later David returned. He did not even glance at Jill.

  “You know what, I’m really feeling nauseous,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I think I should really get home and lie down. I’ve been poor company, I know. Another night I’ll make it up to all of you, I promise.”

  Janine was not convinced it was only his stomach bothering him, but she was not about to question him there in the restaurant. “
All right. Let’s just settle the bill and we’ll go.”

  “No way,” Annette said. “I said this was our treat and it is. Next time, you two can pay. And hopefully David won’t be so overwhelmed by the presence of three gorgeous women.”

  “Thanks,” Janine said. “Both of you.”

  “You know what? Why don’t you stay, Janine? You shouldn’t have your night ruined because I’ve got some kind of stomach bug. I’m sure Annette wouldn’t mind dropping you at home after.”

  He looked expectantly at Annette, who nodded her agreement.

  “No problem.”

  Janine was about to argue, but found to her surprise that she did not want to. She loved David, and cared about him, but it was clear he intended to keep to himself about whatever was freaking him out. In truth, she thought he was acting like a jerk.

  Whatever his problem was, there was nothing she could do for him until he decided to talk to her. She had planned to speak to him later that night about her own concerns, but it would keep until another day. Then she would find out what was really on his mind. More and more, since speaking to Annette the night before, Janine realized that her relationship with David might actually depend upon their opening up to each other.This was only more proof of that.

  “I hope you feel better,” she said.

  His expression of relief that he could depart alone stung her. She hoped he would regret it.

  That dress.

  From the moment he walked out of the Harlequin, David had tried desperately to think of something other than the dress Jill had been wearing at dinner.

  Jill? he thought now as he got into his car. Stop kidding yourself, Dave.

  During the meal, he had the bright idea that in the morning he might check out her story about attending Suffolk University in Boston. An old college friend worked in admissions there. David also had friends at the Registry of Motor Vehicles and the state police. It would be a relatively simple thing to find out more about her, to find out if she was what she claimed to be.

  Then, as he went through his mini-interrogation, she had glanced up at him with an almost petulant expression on her face.Though he had known the moment he walked through the door and saw her in that dress—the dress so similar to the one she had been wearing the first time they made love, his junior year at St. Matt’s—it was that look that shook him of his illusions. Up to that point, he had tried to deny the truth to himself. The dress had shocked him, chilled him, but it could have been coincidence, could even have been him remembering wrong.