They had spent hours cleaning the house and taking care of the baby. When her mother finally came home, Jenny went to her room. Joe was angry, she could still hear them arguing as she drifted off to sleep.
‘Stop, I’m too tired,’ she pulled the duvet up over her mouth, trying to block out the stench.
‘Don’t forget my books,’ Black Jack prodded her shoulder, hurting her.
‘I’m not going to school,’ she mumbled. ‘I have to mind the baby.’ Her mother had crept into her room before going to bed, and informed her of this.
That whore was getting in his way. Black Jack flew through the wall and into the bedroom next door. The nursery had been painted a sunny yellow. Cartoon characters dotted the walls and stuffed toys were lined up beside one another on a seat by the window. Helen had no hand in the decoration of the room, and it showed in its simplicity and brightness.
Black Jack gazed down at the sleeping child. Reaching out, he stroked the soft skin of its cheek with his thumb. A boy child, the whore had done well. The baby moved, irritated by the touch of coarse skin on his face. He mewled softly and tried to move away. Black Jack’s face hardened as he continued to gaze at the child. His child was dead and unlike the whore he would have welcomed a son. He brought his hand down once more and covered the baby’s face with his open palm, blocking its nose and mouth.
‘It would have better if my mother had done the same to me,’ he groaned.
Elizabeth wrenched the hand away. They had tracked him down just in time. She and Timmy tried to hold him, but were repeatedly thrown through the walls. Elizabeth ran to Helen and shook her awake.
‘Your child is in danger.’
Helen, still high on coke, started to scream.
‘Your child needs you,’ Elizabeth, wrung her hands in frustration.
Joe, woken by his wife’s screams, started in terror at the spectre beside the bed. Elizabeth, realising she was getting nowhere with the mother, turned to him.
‘Your child needs you. He’s in terrible danger.’
He shot out of bed and ran towards the nursery. The scene he encountered on opening the door would live in his memory forever. There were two more of these spectres involved in a terrible struggle. They both turned as he entered the room, and for a moment he froze.
‘What’s wrong?’ Jenny stood beside him, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
‘He was trying to kill the baby,’ Timmy answered.
Black Jack threw his head back, laughing. He was having great fun tonight. The unholy sound broke the spell, and Joe rushed past him, snatched up the baby and backed away.
‘I thought you were my friend,’ Jenny looked at Black Jack and started to cry. He didn’t answer her, just turned away and walked through the wall leading outside. He would get the child another night.
Elizabeth turned towards the man holding the baby.
‘Guard your children well. He will return, he is not easily thwarted.’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Joe managed to stutter before the woman and boy disappeared.
He carried the baby and took Jenny by the hand, back to his room. The bed was empty, and he could hear Helen moving around in the bathroom. She had not witnessed what had just happened, and he was thankful for that. Jenny climbed into the bed and he got in beside her, cradling the baby on his lap. He was shaking from the shock, and the possible consequences, if the spectres hadn’t helped him.
‘What are they, Jen, those things that were here?’
‘Aliens, I think; there are lots of them here.’
‘Where?’
‘Out there,’ she pointed towards the window.
‘You know them?’
‘I know Black Jack. He was my friend, but now he’s not. I don’t like him any more. And I know Elizabeth. She helped me when I hurt my leg. I don’t know the names of the other children though.’
‘Children, how many children?’
‘Lots,’ Jenny managed to say, before she fell asleep.
****
Helen carefully lined up the cocaine on a small mirror. Taking the piece of plastic tubing she kept especially for the purpose, she placed one end in her right nostril and the other next to the line of powder and sniffed. Moving the tube to the left nostril she repeated the process. She sat on the toilet and waited for it to take effect. The chemicals were quickly absorbed into her bloodstream, bringing a warm flush of wellbeing.
Wiping the mirror, she placed it, and the tube, back at the bottom of her cosmetic bag. Hastily wiping her nose, with the back of her hand, she went back to her room. She was surprised to find Joe sitting in bed with the children beside him.
‘I can’t sleep with them in the bed.’
‘Do you really expect to sleep tonight after what’s happened?’ Joe was amazed at her cavalier attitude.
‘Why, what happened? I had a bad dream that’s all.’
‘Helen,’ his tone was cold, ‘that was not a dream.’
‘It was real? The thing I saw was real? Aaagh!’ She jumped in beside him, pulling the duvet up around her.
‘It’s unbelievable I know, but it’s real all right.’
‘What was it?’
‘I have no idea, but I intend to find out.’
‘Well you can find out alone. I’m leaving here first thing in the morning,’ she shivered.
‘This is our home, Helen. We have to fight to protect it.’
‘You do what you want, I’m leaving.’
‘What about the children?’
‘What about them? I’m sick of the children and I’m sick of you. So, shut up.’
‘Now you’re being ridiculous.’
‘I’m being ridiculous? I’m not the one who wants to fight with monsters, or ghosts, or whatever the hell that thing was. Now shut up and leave me alone.’
‘What’s that on your nose?’ Joe reached over and brushed at the telltale white powder.
‘Talc.’
‘Taken to sniffing talc, have you?’
He’d had his suspicions of late. The huge amounts of money she spent weekly had to be going somewhere, and it wasn’t into furnishing the house or grocery shopping. He’d made himself believe that a woman like Helen was expensive to keep. Not wanting to admit that her looks were a charade, that beneath her polished exterior, lay hardness and a glutinous craving for pleasure.
They sat quietly for the rest of the night, the silence broken only by the baby demanding to be fed, and Jenny’s tossing and turning. The main ceiling light and the lamps at either side of the bed were all switched on, in the hope that their light would protect them from the things outside.
It was almost seven o’clock when the first fingers of dawn crept across the sky. Helen started to pack. Joe watched, sad, but resigned. For the first time since their marriage, he fully realised what a terrible mistake he had made. After another trip to the bathroom to satisfy her craving, Helen left the bedroom. The suitcase banged against her legs as she descended the stairs, causing her to swear. It was heavy, but she could not take the chance of leaving anything of value behind. Luckily, and unknown to Joe, she had kept the rent on her council house up-to-date. As an unmarried mother the rent had been nominal, and the council were still unaware of her change in marital status. Now she would return to her own kind. She had been a fool to imagine that her chosen life would satisfy her and Joe had not come out of it too badly. He now had the children he desired, so to her thinking they were all winners. Dumping the case on the floor in the hall, she stumbled into the dark sitting-room. Her head swam from the effect of the cocaine, so she lay down on the sofa to allow the dizziness to pass. The long night had been too much coming so soon after the birth, so she would rest for a while before trying to drive.
Black Jack lay face down on the nursery floor. His senses were so heightened he could see right through it. So, she was abandoning her children. Deserting the son she had never wanted. Spreading his arms wide, he allowed himself to be absorbed by the floor, blending into the soft c
arpet, the wooden floorboards and the yellow fibreglass insulation.
Helen’s eyes opened wide as the ceiling above her bulged, taking on the shape of a man. She froze as a monster dropped towards her. He landed right on top of her; they were face to face. His red eyes stared into hers and she had not time to scream as a hand was clamped over her mouth. The smell of his skin was poisonous and she could feel the coarseness of his hair brushing against her cheeks. The cold from his body shot through her, chilling her to the very soul. She struggled, but it was useless, as all strength had left her body. She could feel his hand moving rapaciously over her skin, grasping and tearing at the flesh. The buttons on her blouse snapped beneath his fingers and she felt the chill intensify on her bare flesh.
A sudden sound from overhead made Black Jack stop and look towards the ceiling. The momentary lapse in concentration was all that was needed and Helen managed to roll from beneath him. Unaware that it was Joe’s footsteps that had saved her, she ran into the hall and grabbed her suitcase. Sobbing she threw the case into the back seat and climbed into the car.
TWENTY-SEVEN
After the front door slammed, its noise echoed through the house and Joe felt truly lost. He looked towards the baby, who was already starting to move and fuss, and at the still-sleeping Jenny. First things first, the baby needed feeding. He had passed the night reading the numerous baby books Helen had amassed in her pretension of motherhood. Luckily, with Jenny’s help, he’d prepared two extra bottles of formula, and these were stored in the fridge, needing only to be heated.
He would have to go downstairs to fetch one and that meant leaving the children alone. The fussing of the baby grew more urgent, and he sprinted from the room, down the stairs, almost skidding on the wooden floor in the hallway, and into the kitchen. Grabbing one of the bottles, he ran back upstairs and was overcome with relief to find the children still safe. Placing the bottle in the warmer, he opened the curtains, and allowed the milky, white light of early morning into the room.
Taking the baby from the crib, he laid him on the bed and reached for the bag that contained the diapers, creams and powders. He struggled with lotion and diapers, but eventually succeeded in changing the nappy. Then he took the baby in his arms and gave him the warm bottle. The infant stared up at him as he fed. Joe smiled at him, amazed at how dark his pupils were. Helen said babies could not see properly, but this little chap’s gaze was mesmerising. Big silent tears coursed down Joe’s cheeks.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. Balancing the bottle under his chin, he wiped the wetness from his face. He felt lost, and had no idea what to do next, whom to ask for help.
‘What are we going to do, eh, son?’ he whispered.
The baby turned and looked towards the voice. Joe thought he understood what was being said, and leaning him back a little, looked into his eyes. ‘We’ll get by, won’t we, son?’
The infant moved in his arms, smiled, and Joe felt his heart almost burst with love. This helpless little baby was his flesh and blood, and totally depending on him. He felt ashamed at his momentary lapse of weakness. Placing the baby back in his crib, he tucked him up. Jenny slept on.
Going into the en-suite bathroom, he shaved and washed at the sink. With the door left open, he could see both the children. He felt better after the wash, invigorated and ready to phone a few agencies to find a nanny. When he had finished dressing, he decided to wake Jenny. It would be easier if they were all downstairs, and he had the phonebook and pens at hand. Leaning over her, he smiled at her flushed cheeks and chubby face. She looked so angelic in her white cotton nightdress, so still and peaceful it seemed a shame to wake her. Too still, Joe suddenly realised, he could hardly hear her breathing.
‘Jen,’ he shook her arm, fear building as she failed to move. ‘Jenny, wake up!’
He placed his hand on her forehead. She was burning up. He had to get help. Picking up the phone, his hand shook as he punched in a number.
‘Ambulance,’ he answered the query of the disembodied voice. ‘My little girl won’t wake up.’ He wanted to scream, but he would have to remain calm for Jenny’s sake. He gave his address automatically and was grateful for the soothing voice that assured him they would be there as soon as possible. He ran downstairs, no longer afraid of the monster from the night before, and took the last bottle of formula from the fridge. Pulling on his coat, he stuffed keys and wallet into his pocket. Within minutes he was back upstairs. After putting the bottle in the baby’s bag, he wrapped him in a blanket.
Helen should have been there. He could understand her leaving him. It was obvious now that she had only married him for his money. But, to desert her children was unthinkable. He knew his anger was unreasonable in the present situation, but it was keeping him from going mad. The wailing of a siren sounded in the distance.
‘It’ll be all right now, Jenny,’ he promised. ‘We’ll soon have you well again.’
The siren came closer, its noise shattering the stillness of the morning. He heard the ambulance draw up outside and the sudden silence, as the siren was switched off.
‘We’re up here,’ he called through the window.
The paramedics thudded up the stairs and came into the room laden with a stretcher and equipment. They brushed by Joe, sensing immediately that their patient was very ill. Picking up the baby, he watched from the opposite side of the room as they worked on the small, still form. They threw question after question at him.
‘How long has she been like this? How old is she? Is she allergic to any medication?’
He answered as best he could, but he had no idea of her medical history. A tube was inserted into her airway and an oxygen mask covered most of her face. One of the men picked her up and placed her on the stretcher, covering her and strapping her in.
‘Will you be coming with us?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Joe picked up the baby’s bag and followed them.
There were no spectators to watch their departure. Joe climbed inside the ambulance, once the stretcher had been loaded. He heard the driver radioing a description of Jenny’s condition to the waiting hospital staff. Cradling the baby, he watched as the paramedic worked on Jenny; seemingly oblivious to the bumping and swaying of the ambulance, he took her blood pressure and checked her heart.
‘Have you any idea what it is?’ Joe asked.
‘I’m afraid not. They’re still trying to work this out.’
‘Then there are other cases like this?’
‘There have been twenty-four other cases in the last three days, all with the same symptoms.’
‘These symptoms, what are they?’
‘See,’ the man pointed towards Jenny’s face. ‘The unusual swelling to the face, accompanied by a sore throat and fever.’
If only he had taken her to the doctor when she first started to complain; if he hadn’t been so taken up with Helen and the baby, he might have noticed something was wrong.
‘You couldn’t have known,’ said the paramedic, noticing the pain in Joe’s face. ‘It starts out like a chill and catches hold quickly. But children are very resilient.’
Joe forced a smile. She had to pull through. The children were all he had in the world. He did not know that out of the twenty-four cases he had just been told about, that two of them had already died, and both had been children.
****
The hospital bustled with life as Joe zigzagged his way along the corridor behind the stretcher, trying to avoid nurses, doctors and wheelchairs. After filling in the necessary forms, a nursing assistant ushered him towards the relative’s waiting room.
‘Someone will be with you shortly,’ she promised. ‘Your daughter is in safe hands.’
She hurried away and Joe was left to find a seat in a room that was already quite full. It was mostly couples sitting huddled together, all with the same anxious expression. They held tightly to one another, drawing strength from their closeness, praying and suffering, as only the parents of a sick
child know how. Some of them looked at Joe and nodded. They all watched the door and moved to the edge of their seats every time it opened. The baby slept on, and he was thankful for this.
‘Mr Mahoney?’ a nurse asked.
‘Yes, that’s me,’ Joe raised his hand.
‘Come with me, please.’
He struggled to his feet, baby nestled in the crook of one arm and the bag in the other. Following her unquestioningly along the corridor, he walked by her, as she pointed to an office.
‘Take a seat. Dr Peters will be with you in a moment.’
He sat and slid the bag onto the floor beside him. He felt the baby’s hands to ensure he was warm enough, and didn’t hear the doctor come in.
‘Joe. How are you? It’s been a long time.’
‘Ted, my God. It’s good to see you,’ Joe held out his hand. ‘Forgive me for not standing.’
‘No bother, old boy. I can see you have your hands full; a grandchild, eh?’
‘A son.’
Ted Peters had been his friend through most of his senior college years. He had moved to England to study medicine and they had lost contact, but Ted had hardly changed. He was a few pounds heavier and his dark hair tinged with grey, but his eyes and good-natured smile were the same.
‘Sorry, me and my big mouth.’
‘No problem. God knows I’m old enough.’
‘And the little girl, her surname is different than yours, so I assumed.’
‘My stepdaughter.’
‘Ah, I see,’ Ted sat down behind his desk. ‘And her mother?’
‘Left us, I’m afraid.’
‘You can contact her? You know where she is?’
‘I’m not sure,’ he said, pausing at the urgency of the question. ‘Is it that bad?’
‘Look, Joe, I don’t want to beat around the bush with you. Your daughter is stable at the moment. We’re pumping as much fluid and antibiotics as we can into her, but the fact is, we really don’t know what we’re dealing with.’
‘What are her chances?’
Paupers Graveyard Page 24
