People talked to him, but he couldn’t hear them, a barrage of questions he had no answers to. He was going numb inside, like he was moving around in someone else’s skin. He was watching it all unfold like a silent spectator.
“He wants to strike out Sammy Sosa,” Austin said, to no one in particular.
They were in the Jacobs’ backyard, four blocks from Chestnut Street.
“Huh?” Bimsley said, looking over at him.
“Kidnapped,” Austin said, surprised how easily the word came out.
“We don’t know that.”
“Hope is a damn far stretch when you’re dealing with a missing boy,” Austin said, suddenly furious.
“Kids find the damnedest reasons for going off by themselves,” Bimsley said, trying to remain calm. “They think they’re parents aren’t going to worry. They want to be adults, so they act like them.”
But Austin wasn’t listening.
“Mr. McCall, I appreciate this,” Bimsley told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I really do. But why don’t you let me and the boys take care of it. Go home and be with your wife, ease up a bit. We can handle it.”
Maybe he should go home. Bimsley promised to keep looking. Rudy looked over at him and nodded.
Austin walked back home by himself, trying to come to grips with Sadie’s disappearance. It was like a sudden, rude slap in the face. How could life change so quickly? Things would feel surreal for a while, but he had to accept the fact that his youngest boy was…
No, I won’t say it. I won’t even think it.
People came and went, and the hours trudged by. Some lingered in the living room, offering support, but it was all a blur. He told everyone to go home. He and Mattie needed some time alone. Things were crazy. The phone wouldn’t stop ringing. He shut the ringer off. He knew they were only trying to help, but he needed some peace and quiet.
“Don’t bother with dinner, Mattie,” he said, when she began pulling out pots and pans. “I don’t think anyone’s up for a meal at the moment.” He returned to the living room and sat in the recliner.
The voices of horror have a thousand faces, and you have felt nothing, seen nothing until you see what I can do. You’re boy is just one in a million. He is the first in a long procession of dead things. You should be proud. Others will be taken, you included. The city is endless...
Cold sweat broke out across Austin’s face and neck. Had he really just heard that?
Mattie was lost as well, smiling at a caravan of invisible people, it seemed, as if the neighbors had never left. Austin frowned, watching her. She was talking to herself. At times, Austin thought she was talking to Sadie. He could hear the dialogue in his head:
I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to go running off.
You had everybody worried sick, Sadie.
I’m sorry, Mom.
Just don’t let it happen again.
Okay, Mom.
That’s okay. Now, come give your mother a hug. We’re just glad to have you home.
“Well, who wants some cake?” Mattie said. She walked out of the kitchen, carrying a three-layer chocolate cake on a glass dish.
Austin told her to lie down and get some rest.
Some provider you turned out to be.
The sun had set, the day turning to dusk. Rudy hadn’t come home yet. Austin persuaded Mattie to lie down, leaving the cake on the kitchen counter. He poured himself a drink. He was not usually a man who indulged, but today, he made an exception.
Glad I kept the Chivas Jeremy gave me last year for Christmas, he thought.
Earlier, he’d made calls to some of Sadie’s friends. Seth Auburn had been one of the boys he’d talked to. Seth had come to Sadie’s eighth birthday party last year and given Sadie a model airplane. When Austin talked to him on the phone, he detected something…not that Seth knew where Sadie was, but that the boy knew something…
That’s ridiculous, he thought. You’re paranoid. You’re reaching for anything you can get.
He closed his eyes and took a drink, wincing as heat spread through his chest. Austin poured another. It was his first drink since Christmas the year before.
“Nothing,” he said to the empty room. “Nothing. No one knows anything. No one knows. It’s like he disappeared off the face of the earth, like he’d been sucked into a vacuum.”
Voices taunted from the shadows. Some were Sadie’s. Some, he didn’t recognize at all.
The doors to the Dark World opened, and Austin McCall stepped inside.
iii
Seth looked through the screen door, trying to catch one last glimpse of Ben.
Where did he go, he wondered? Into the mountains? Farther? Funny, he thought, how Ben introduced himself only to vanish in an instant. Odd behavior, Seth thought, even for a tiger.
Compared to yesterday, Seth didn’t believe anything could pull him away from his fantasies of Jeanie Masterson, yet Ben had done just that.
“Goodbye,” Seth said, letting the screen door bang shut.
How would he explain his summer vacation now, he wondered? Not only had he kissed the most beautiful girl in town, but he’d befriended a magical beast.
He pictured Mrs. Dunbar, one of the fifth grade teachers, asking him about it:
And then this tiger came to see me, asked a favor—
Tiger?
Yes, ma’am. A tiger.
There are no tigers in Ellishome, Seth Auburn. There are no tigers in the entire state of Colorado, except at the Denver Zoo. There are no tigers in the entire U. S. of A. You might want to check into it. But you’ll see, just as sure as I’m telling you now…
But there is a tiger, Mrs. Dunbar, and he lives in the meadow behind my backyard. He talks to me.
Well, isn’t that interesting. Did you hear that, class? A talking tiger.
Here, the class explodes in gales of laughter.
Yes, ma’am. His name’s, Ben. And he talks to me through here—
He points to his head, indicating where the tiger speaks.
I’m sorry class, but it seems Seth Auburn is a little off his rocker. We might have to send him on a little trip. Not to the principal’s office, of course. Seth seems to be suffering some delusions. Excuse me while I’ll go make some calls.
Maybe he’d tell Mrs. Dunbar he had a very uneventful summer.
The telephone rang.
Seth moved across the kitchen floor and picked it up. “Hello?”
“Hello. Is this Seth?”
“Yes.”
“Seth. This is Austin McCall, Sadie’s dad.”
Seth remembered. Sadie’s eighth birthday party. He didn’t know the boy well, didn’t even consider him a friend, really. Seth’s mother insisted he go because Austin had seen Samantha at work and told her about the party. Reluctantly, Seth had agreed.
Know my horror…
Gooseflesh rippled across his arms.
“Seth?” Austin said, voicing what sounded like a forced laugh. “Seems Sadie is missing. I thought…well…he’s not over there playing with you by any chance, is he?”
“No, sir,” Seth told him, an icy finger running down the length of his spine. “No, he isn’t. Is everything okay?”
“Well, not at the moment,” Austin said. “If you see him or find out anything, will you call us over here, please?”
Seth thought about Ben and coldness gripped his heart.
“Seth?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Of course. I’m…I’m sorry, but yeah…I’ll call if I hear anything.”
Austin thanked Seth and hung up. Seth put the phone down and looked out the screen door, toward the meadow.
Feel my pain…
It couldn’t have been Ben! It didn’t make sense after what had just happened. Ben would’ve devoured Seth when he’d had the chance.
But what had Ben implied?
He’s here now…
Did this have to do with the favor the tiger mentioned?
Clouds gathered, blotting the sun. The cr
ags in the distance loomed closer. Even from the kitchen, he could see them.
The world seemed darker suddenly, colder than usual for August.
I’m not a stranger…
Seth wondered how true that was.
He shut the back door, cutting off the view he had of the mountains and the meadow.
CHAPTER V
Tanisha didn’t want Hailey drinking in the house anymore.
Hypocritical bitch, he thought.
He agreed, though. Drinking wasn’t fun when Tanisha was around. When she was gone, however, it was a different story. He could drink all he wanted, have as much as he wanted, and forget the wicked wench existed. This was his house after all. He wasn’t about to let some woman run his life!
He’d take the tractor into the meadow if he didn’t feel like walking, find a nice shady tree to recline under, and repose with Johnny Walker Red. He’d pull the straw hat over his eyes, chew on a blade of grass, and tip the bottle back.
Drinking wasn’t a bad way to spend a sunny afternoon; that was for sure. Let Tanisha do what she wanted, bed total strangers from the bar, stay out all night. Hailey didn’t care. He had the bottle, and as Daddy once told him: a man needed something to call his own.
On that Wednesday afternoon, Hailey set out to drink as he’d planned. He’d slept most the day, and Tanisha hadn’t come home the night before. A few stiff drinks would cure his headache, the shattered glass feeling behind his eyes. What time was it? Past eleven o’clock, noon already? When he looked to the clock on the wall, he saw, surprisingly, that it was almost two in the afternoon.
He could drink in the house, but if she came back unexpectedly, she’d ruin his buzz. Better stick to the original plan. If he found a shady tree to recline under, she’d never find him. The meadow smelled better anyway, looked better, more relaxing and eye-catching than the house. The place was a pigsty.
Sitting up on the couch, Hailey rubbed his eyes. His mouth was sour and stale. A glass of water, gargling with some powerful mouthwash would do the trick.
He turned and looked out the living room window. The grass was wet, the junk in the yard glistening with rain from the night before. He’d been in such a drunken coma, he hadn’t even noticed. He was lucky to remember it was Wednesday.
As long as he put distance between he and the steam shovel that was his wife, he could find some peace today. Godzilla didn’t tread with such thunder. He wondered how the plaster stayed in the walls and ceiling sometimes.
Surprised there isn’t a hole in the floor already, he thought. Must be some pretty strong floorboards.
He wondered when she’d start breathing fire. If Tanisha were to face Godzilla in a wrestling match, Godzilla wouldn’t stand a chance.
Hailey chuckled at the thought.
He never knew with whom she was sleeping, and the idea made him shudder. He was married to her, for God’s sake! The thought of lying next to his own wife made him cold inside. Not all the drink in the world could entice him to the bedroom. She was nothing more than an overweight, two-ton steam shovel with wrecking balls dangling from her arms.
“I think I’d rather go to bed with Godzilla.” Hailey chuckled. It was important to find humor in the situation because he hadn’t much to laugh at these days.
He’d passed out again with his boots on, his jeans and shirt.
Hailey got up off the couch, grabbing the straw hat from the cluttered floor, and almost swooned. He put a hand to his head. Christ! Was he still drunk? Damn, his head hurt!
He put his hat on and walked out the back door into the early afternoon sunshine. He took J.W. with him. He had more than half the bottle still. Misty clouds revealed patches of blue sky. The rain had cooled things noticeably. The afternoon might be enjoyable after all, not as muggy and hot as it had been over the last few weeks.
Hailey stepped down the wooden porch, his boots clopping on the warped, weathered boards. The entire house needed a makeover: cracked windows, peeling paint. The lawn was a junkyard of dead cars, broken washing machines, irreparable refrigerators, and a single, rusted, claw-footed bathtub.
Hailey, in a sudden fit of anger—thinking about his promiscuous wife—kicked at empty air and almost stumbled over. “Careful, Hailey, don’t spill Johnny,” he said.
How dare she leave him here and take advantage of every willing drunk in Ellishome!
Hailey muttered under his breath, pulled out a Marlboro, and lit up. He blew smoke above his head.
He was a cowboy at heart. That’s what he loved about Ellishome, trying to make a life for himself and his wife. He used to love her, he had to admit. At times, he tried to love her still, but anymore, the giant rolling pin made it impossible. Tanisha had turned into a venomous reptile ten seconds after the “I do’s.” She’d been thinner then, as well. She never backed down, never gave him a moment’s peace. The vows they’d taken had been for her alone. They gave her dominion over his life. How many men could say the same, he wondered?
She’d probably go out again tonight, or stay gone for the rest of the day. That was fine by him. Maybe she’d catch—what did they call it—herpa-ghonna-syphal-aids?
Hailey lifted the bottle and gulped three full swallows. He winced, kept his eyes closed, and put a nicotine-stained hand to his forehead. He stepped onto the damp, patchy ground, weaving through the litter in the yard, then into the meadow.
He’d find a nice place to sit. A canal meandered somewhere up ahead through the willow trees. He could find a shady spot, lean back, and drink-drink-drink. The perfect way to spend a sunny afternoon.
“Damn woman,” he muttered, unable to keep Tanisha from his mind. “Out there hoppin’ and boppin’ the entire neighborhood while I sit here by myself!”
He kicked a Coke bottle, barely nudging it. Instead of sending it far into the grass, the bottle moved only a couple of inches, spun a single time, then came to a halt. Cursing, Hailey kicked the bottle again, and this time his right boot slipped out from under him. He hit the wet ground hard on his rear. “Ooommph!” he said. Johnny Walker splashed his already soiled shirt. He dropped his cigarette. “Goddamn, black-eyed Mary!” he cried. “Stupid boots!” Hailey pulled off his straw hat and threw it on the ground as well, ripping the brim in the process. He rubbed his backside, which stung from the fall.
He’d be in Ellishome for the rest of his life! He knew that. He hated his wife, hated the farm, and everything surrounding it! The only thing he could rely on was Johnny Walker Red, Kentucky whiskey, good to the last punch. At least the good Lord had made something for him. Without it, he didn’t know what he’d do.
“Stupid farm life! Should’ve gone to the city! Made a name for myself!”
Hailey switched from one extreme to the other. One minute he loved the farm. The next, he wanted to burn it down. That was the way with life.
He got up and brushed mud off his pants. He put the hat back on, the brim falling into his eyes because of the tear. Mad he’d ruined it, and irritated it was hanging in his eyes because of the tear, he threw it on the ground, grinding it into the mud with the heel of his boot. Hailey swore. He retrieved his cigarette (still smoking), stuck it into his mouth, and continued into the meadow, muttering about how stupid life was, how stupid and ugly his wife was, and generally everything else in the vast, limitless, stupid universe.
“Huge cement truck,” he said, referring to Tanisha. “Beepin’ every time she backs up, lights going crazy-like round-and-round—” Hailey imitated the sound of a truck in reverse, circling his hand above his head, making siren noises—“Wheeew—wheeew! Watch out fellas, gonna dump a big load! Crazy like! Wheeew—wheew! Save the children! Save the children!” He took a drag of the cigarette, blew out smoke, took a drink from the bottle, and kept on walking. “Stupid cow!” he muttered.
They’d met at the bar and danced to a few slow songs. He should’ve known—the way she flirted with every other guy in the bar that night. He thought she was just being friendly. Now, he knew better, but i
t was too late.
Hailey shuddered. He didn’t want to think about his wife or the people she took to bed. Instead, he took another pull off the Kentucky whiskey, and his head swam. “Poisonous snake,” he said, wiping whiskey from his lips, unable to stop thinking about her. “Nine-hundred pounds of poison, dumping cement.”
Maybe it was the drink. She only looked nine-hundred pounds.
“Take the farm. Sell my bones. You would! I know it. I don’t care!”
J.W. helped deal with her at least; otherwise, he might kill her.
“Take an elephant gun and fourteen gallons of gasoline to do it,” he said, chuckling.
The clouds parted, the sun warming the meadow. Hailey was a ways from the house now, feeling the whiskey, his brain spiraling. His eyes played tricks on him. He staggered, weaving through the meadow, even though he thought he was walking in a straight line. If he weren’t careful, he’d lose consciousness, pass out right here in the meadow, and the afternoon sun would cook his brain. It would end his domestic troubles at least.
Hailey Patterson didn’t care. He welcomed the idea of blacking out in the meadow under the relentless, summer sun.
Dying and frying and having a good time doing it.
Anything was better than staying home with the overbearing walrus, the caterwauling steam engine spending his money on other men!
He had to get rid of this hostility, he told himself. His heart beat rapidly with an onslaught of anger and high blood pressure. He’d give himself a coronary right here in the meadow, if he wasn’t careful.
He was trying not to think about it, forcing himself not to think about, yet all he could do was think about it!
“Where’s the elephant gun?” he said, chuckling again. “Need an elephant gun for a woman that size. Bayonet, two rifles, and a mortar shell!” He took another pull off the bottle, blackness creeping in.
For some reason, his thoughts turned to Austin McCall. He didn’t know why, maybe because Hailey saw the man driving through town in his fancy Audi all the time, snubbing his nose at the lower life forms around Ellishome, people like Hailey Patterson, too good to stop at Suds and have a round with the locals. Austin worked at that famous outfitters company in Boulder, flashing off his nice home, fancy clothes, gold Rolex, as if everyone were just waiting to tell him how envious they were, wanting to rub his head for luck, perhaps. Maybe Hailey was thinking about Austin McCall because Hailey was on a passionate roll of hatred, and Austin was the next in line after Tanisha, the mighty tank commander.
Snapdragon Book I: My Enemy Page 7
