Nightmare with the Neighbour

by Martha Greenwood

  "Aw, are you going to cry? Are you angry at me?" he taunted.

  "See? I was right!" I exclaimed.

  My enchanting neighbour led me upstairs into the west wing, where the species of Lylius Parkerius is commonly known to roost during the wee hours of the morning.

  "Actually, I had nothing to do with it. Though I badly wish I had."

  If I could assume that Lyle was telling the truth (and let's face it: this was about as likely as our marriage that Daya so liked to joke about), then I had no idea who wasbehind it. There was the remote possibility that I honestly won both prizes, but realistically speaking this was unlikely. I mean, I'm Azalea Dupont: girl who eats too much and watches unhealthy amounts of Sailor Moon.

  We walked along the long corridor that connected the east and west portions of the castle. The soft, velvet carpets felt heavenly under my bare feet. A series of oil portraits were lined along the long stretch of wall. The First Earl of Sparrowick seemed to gaze disapprovingly at me, which completely freaked me out, so I hid behind Lyle's back. It was the only place I could find last minute.

  "Try to control your physical urges, Lea. It's embarrassing me," Lyle said with a serious tone.

  I blushed when I realised I was hugging him tightly from behind. I immediately let go, but electrical pulses wooshed right down into my stomach. It was probably the aftermath of touching Lyle, a known spawn of the Norse god Thor.

  "It's not my fault," I insisted, ignoring the strange desire to touch him again, "your ancestors really scare me. They all have this…judgemental look…"

  "Careful what you say. First you slur my house and then you insult my proud heritage. As a host I have every right to make sure you regret this," Lyle replied with a coldness that could have made a polar bear chilly.

  I kept quiet until we reached the last portrait, one that looked incredibly like Lyle but much older and with a rich moustache.

  "That's your father?" I asked quietly, knowing that this was a delicate topic for Lyle.

  He didn't lose his temper or reply condescendingly. He merely said yes with a sad smile.

  "I think…he might have been the one to make you win those competitions. He always did like to make you smile," Lyle contemplated.

  Like father, totally unlike son. One likes my smile while the other persists on finding my tears. Talk about polar opposites. It was fascinating to think they looked so alike. A geneticist might have had a field day with the Parkers.

  "But…he's still missing, isn't he?" I mentioned kindly, drawing me hand towards his upper arm like one would towards a burning stove.

  He turned to face me, his face lit up. The last time I saw him this happy was when we were eight and he convinced me that stars were nothing but hungry demons' eyes.

  "I…haven't told anyone Lea, and I expect you to keep it secret. But I just have a strange intuition that Dad's back!"

  I was so taken by surprise at this news that we walked to Lyle's room in silence.

  "My pyjamas!" I beamed, as they were the first things I saw.

  "Yeah, we should change into something else. My shirt is starting to stink. Strange when you think about it, the blood stains are only a couple of days old," Lyle agreed, stripping off with his usual disregard for other people in the vicinity. I managed to quickly slip out of the room and into my PJs, loving the fluffiness against my skin.

  I heard Lyle approaching me from behind. We both looked over the railings onto the floor beneath. The effect of the Halloween Fete on the house was apparent (with fake blood dripping everywhere and arbitrary creaking noises), but the place had mostly been cleared up already. I decided to break our usual but uncomfortable silence.

  "How did the haunted house go then?"

  "Pretty good. The children were scared, but parents even more so, which means success in my book. I was debating hanging you off the chandelier by a noose, but you were too busy winning competitions. That would have been a real killer."

  My eyes widened with horror, but I should have got used to this by now. I mean, this was Lyle we were talking about. Nothing could make him stop his inappropriate comments.

  "I'm actually in a really good mood today. Let's do something fun, Lea."

  Aaaaand here it was. The 'fun' bit would probably involve some ropes or sticks or pins or other unpleasant stuff. I held my breath.

  "We'll watch the Fete fireworks from the balcony upstairs," he said, looking at me expectantly.

  I can't say that I expected that.

  It was a perfectly innocent and pleasant activity. I wondered if there was some ulterior motive, but nothing came to mind. Perhaps Lyle really did want to be close to me. And if he really was my friend it would have been unacceptable to suspect him. I knew he had his issues, but then again, I wasn't exactly issue-less either. Our troubled pasts were separate. Lyle frightened me, but surely it wouldn't remain that way all our lives, or even in death. Running away from him during our afterlives was nothing more than pathetic. The misunderstandings with Lillian were all just a passing phase. I knew where my true place was, and I would remain strong.

  From that moment onwards, I decided to trust Lyle.

  Trust him. Laugh with him. Share with him. Love him.

  "The view from the balcony must be out of this world. Let's go!" I said excitedly, anticipating what would happen next.

  "I never knew Sparrowick could look like this. It's like Las Vegas or something," I said with amazement when I saw the coloured lights that illuminated the pavements.

  "It's a little chilly, isn't it?"

  "Whose idea was it to change into our pyjamas?" I retorted.

  "Yours, actually. Wait here, I'll get us a blanket, and maybe some cocoa too," Lyle winked at me. All I could think was why is he being so nice to me? As if I'm one of those brunettes he was talking to earlier. I'm blonde dammit! Call it weird, call it disturbing, but to me, Lyle's kindness meant that I was the same as all the others. He tortured me because I was unique, because I actually meant something to him. I know it's messed up, but then again, this whole story is.

  Lyle closed the door behind him, leaving me with an odd feeling. His gentleness was not unwelcome, but it felt lacking. I wanted him to put me within an inch of my life, and make me feel real.

  The icy wind sliced through me like a sharpened razor. I was feeling the effects of wearing my night dress on an English October's evening. I couldn't wait for the hot cocoa and the warm blankets. I hoped Lyle would bring the thick, silky, velvety one. We'd have to share it, but I didn't mind the idea so much any more. They say fright turns to hate, which then turns into indifference. I'm not so sure if that's true anymore.

  The clock tower struck nine times, indicating that about half an hour had passed since Lyle left. The firework display was about to begin. It was unusual that it would take this long to find a blanket, and I frowned inwardly. The cold was getting unbearable, so I opened the French windows to get back into the warmth of the castle.

  At least, I tried to open it. It was locked from the inside.

  Chapter XX: Blacked Out

  * * *

  The balcony door was locked from the inside, as my incessant but futile handle-turning indicated.

  Lyle Parker had abandoned me in the great outdoors while I wore nothing but my Sailor Moon pyjamas. I might have kept warmer had it been Sailor Mars (guardian of fire) on my shirt, but nooooo it had to be the blonde dumpling hair girl.

  I had to stop myself before I went on yet another tangential rant. It didn't matter which of the Sailor Moon girls were on my night dress. What did matter was the fact that half an hour had passed by and there was no sign of Lyle. A peek into the connecting room revealed the emptiness of the castle. When I looked more closely, I found the room to be dedicated to weapons, mostly rifles and manual bear traps. There were a couple of axes lying about in a careless yet menacing way. Stuffed deer and bears were hanging off the walls. I sincerely hoped that this was all part of the Halloween decorations, but all-in-all the room
really resembled a hunting den. The creepiness of the room coupled with the general Halloween atmosphere had my bones shivering against my skin.

  A terrifying thought struck me.

  Lyle had left me out here to die.

  And then, he'd cut me up and taxidermy the guts out of me, literally. He'd probably place my stuffed body in the corner between the still-life fox and the lamp. It all made perfect sense now. I could almost see the expression on my lifeless figure imploring the inmates of the castle to free me from my prison of doom.

  No…the cold was addling my brain. I knew that Lyle was a little different from the rest of us, but wantonly cruel he was not. Two weeks ago I would have readily agreed that Lyle Parker was the kind of neighbour to gut his neighbours alive. Now I knew he had a human side, and his violent quirks merely made him more special.

  I could faintly hear the Sparrowick bell tower ticking away my life. Time was progressing very slowly, and my sense of neglect was starting to increase exponentially. As much as I wanted to trust Lyle to be back soon, I had to assess the cold hard facts.

  He had abandoned me at the top of the highest tower in Sparrowick Castle. Even if I shouted for help nobody would hear me unless they were on the balcony too…and that would sort of defeat the point a bit. I sorely began to wish I had long hair like a certain Rapunzel. That girl had better hair-styling sense than Garnier and L'Oreale put together.

  Nearly an hour had passed, and the night was getting icier. I scrunched my body up into a ball and rubbed my forearms. Maybe if I rubbed hard enough I'd start a fire, and that was bound to get some attention from the city. Thoughts of Lyle's mocking smile began invading my brain, and I felt a strong urge to punch it.

  Then, iridescent lights began colouring the sky, followed by loud 'bangs'. The fireworks display had started. I badly wanted to be down there with Daya and Mum, enjoying the display. Instead, I was stuck here with nobody but a scurrying cockroach for company. And believe me, he was pretty boring. I wished Lyle would come back so I could push him off the edge of this terrace. But though I was raging at him, I found that the more I thought about him the more I felt like pulling him into a rib-crushing squeezy hug. I wanted to fill my olfactory senses with his smell, a mix of masculine shampoo, old furniture and the blood of some small animal he had just killed. I wasn't stupid enough to think that he reciprocated, or even felt any human emotion towards me. In his eyes I was similar to a new toy – fun to abuse for a while, but hard to develop any attachment towards. My clarity of thought disturbed me in that I didn't actually care, I just wanted Lyle next to me. Where he belonged. Maybe Daya was right after all. Being together with Lyle would be the end of a particularly twisted fairy tale, but a fairy tale none-the-less.

  I'm being crazier than usual...it must just be the cold talkingI reflected as the wind decided to rattle my bones once more just for the heck of it. Looking at the animated world below me made me feel so far away I might as well have been on the moon. People laughing, ooo-ing at the fireworks, eating...chatting to Lyle...

  Wait...Lyle was down there? Part of the revelry? While I was stuck in my pyjamas three hundred feet above the ground?

  He hadforgotten me after all. What a surprise. Oh, wait, was he trying to make his way back, getting rid of a pushy brunette in the process? It certainly looked that way.

  Of course, I didn't want to get my hopes up high only to have them pummelled down by Lyle the incredible hulk. So I decided to think about why peas grow in pods, whereas potatoes don't. I was so absorbed in thought I didn't notice the sound of a key grating against a lock.

  "Quite chilly outside, don't you think? Why didn't you come in?" Lyle asked in a mock innocent tone.

  "You...you locked the door on purpose!" I replied. I fought the simultaneous urge to both kiss and punch him in the gut.

  "Did I? Oh, how clumsy of me..." Lyle was many, many things but seventeen years of experience told me that 'clumsy' was not one of them. I tried to shove Lyle out of the doorway so I could embrace the warmth of the hunting den, but he insisted on acting as a blockade to my comfort.

  "Move!" I said firmly, teeth chattering all the while.

  "Did you miss me?" he asked, ignoring my order as he was accustomed to doing.

  It had been the longest half-an-hour of my life. And during it I found myself consistently meditating upon Lyle. It was almost as unwanted as dirty socks, but the sad truth was that I had slowly fallen in love with each of his quirks. The initial repulsion I held for him was slowly evaporating away...

  "No."

  "Wrong answer. Try again."

  I remained silent, furiously trying to hide my blushes in the dark. Unfortunately Lyle has the eyes of a nocturnal bird of prey. He laughed at my squirming.

  "Come on, Lea! You can either answer my question correctly, or live on my balcony for the rest of your life. I'm fine either way," Lyle said threateningly. I could feel his deep, velvet voice penetrate straight into my belly. The way it always used to – but now I knew the reason why.

  "I'm waiting-" he started. I immediately interrupted.

  "I did miss you Lyle. I was waiting for you this whole time. I thought we'd watch the fireworks together like real friends, but you left me here to die!" I said with the emotion of a jilted woman on a daytime soap opera.

  And then something happened that was as unlikely as candy falling from the sky – Lyle was taken aback. I used this to my advantage.

  "I felt like a princess trapped in a tower!" Except princesses have access to central heating thanks to guardian dragons. I had no such luck, but after a peek into the hunting den who knew what creatures hid in there?

  "That's disappointing," replied Lyle, still blocking the entrance, "I was going for 'animal-in-captivity' sort of thing."

  So he had purposefully left me up here. Wouldn't have expected any less. Perhaps this had been his unique way of proclaiming his feelings towards me? Yeah, right. Ordinary guys don't lock their loved ones out in the cold while they go off to enjoy life. But this was no regular bloke – this was Lyle we were talking about. His communication with me was as alien as a toddler attempting to speak ancient Greek. And yet, I felt like I could instinctively grasp his gestures. Maybe because we had been together since our early childhood days.

  "Still, it worked out better than expected. You were thinking of me the whole time weren't you? For half an hour, I had completely taken over your mind..."

  Well, not quite. I didspend about two percent of the time thinking of Sailor Moon. Somehow I didn't think Lyle Parker would be interested in knowing that.

  I side-stepped his comment by asking a question.

  "Did you manage to talk to your father?"

  Lyle took a step backwards, allowing me to finally enter into the room behind us, a refuge from the ice winds blowing outside. I stood close to him for extra warmth, and was relieved to see that he did not push me back. His chest felt like a blanket to my freezing hands.

  "Your hands are cold," Lyle remarked.

  "Your fault," I retaliated, "So, did you meet Mr Parker?" I should have addressed him as 'The XVIII th earl of Sparrowick', but the title sounded so formal.

  "I did. It was a touching reunion between father and son. Almost cliché," he replied revolted, "He said nothing about why he left five years ago or what he had been doing all that time. It was utterly dissatisfying. It just reinforced the idea that it was all my fault...that something I did disgusted him so much he escaped from us. A father is meant to instil confidence in his sons...so why do I feel so...broken...so...lost...?"

  He hugged me closer. Physically we were only millimetres apart, but I couldn't endure the closeness of the raw sentiment that Lyle was pouring into me. It was too much – one minute he's playing the role of the dominant man and the next I see into the depths of his very soul. And his soul was aching.

  "He asked about you, Lea. He asked if you remembered when you used to sit on his head," Lyle gave half a laugh.

  I finally arrived at ano
ther conclusion. One I should have come to years ago.

  Lyle was human. All this time I believed him to be a monster disguised as a human, when in reality he just needed someone close. Although to be fair I did have other clues. He bled when cut, he ate when hungry, he laughed when entertained (usually at my expense), and he shared when he was troubled.

  I pulled myself closer to his neck and tried to articulate a few words of reassurance. Instead, a frog insisted on inhabiting my throat, and the dam that usually held my tears back gently broke. I had not cried once since my father's funeral until today. Two tears plopped lightly onto Lyle's pale neck.

  "Are you crying?" Lyle asked in an unfathomable tone. When I didn't reply he held me at shoulders length. My tears were mature and silent, but Lyle could not tear himself away from my face. The stares continued for a full minute. He then held out a masculine hand as though to wipe my cheeks, but stopped midway.

  "Stop it," he said, but it wasn't his usual imperious order. It was more of a plea, and that broke my heart even more.

  "Why?" I asked as my tears slowly abated, "I thought you always wanted to see me vulnerable and crying." Who else would make statements like 'I'll trap your tears in a bottle and drink it with breakfast'?

  His fingernails dug into my shoulders.

  "You should not cry for me. Stop," he resumed his normal voice and tone.

  "What?" I was momentarily surprised.

  "I do not want you to cry for me. I'd rather you cry because of me."

  I used the sleeve of my pyjamas to wipe my face and smiled at Lyle. He did not return it, but looked desperately at me, holding my face in his hands. He held me with the delicacy of a wrestler trying to cross-stitch, but none-the-less, it was an intimate gesture.

  "Lea, all this time, for all these years I've truly come to-"

  Unfortunately he was interrupted by the clack of high heeled shoes as someone kicked open the door to the hunting den we were in. A tribal princess viciously biting at an apple.

  Lillian.

  "Hey you lovebirds. Stop whatever X-rated activity it is that you're doing up here in the creepy room and listen to me. You two won't be so cuddly once you hear thisjuicy piece of news," Lillian said, flicking her tresses.