Was he going through puberty?
I hoped not. Just the thought of Jared going through it made me feel very uncomfortable.
Ten minutes later, Mom called for me. She handed me a brown wicker tray with two plates of food and two glasses of blueberry Kool-Aid; she was nice enough to give us a snack cake to go with our PB&J and potato chips.
“Do you remember the rules?”
“Sure do.”
She returned to the couch as I carried the tray upstairs. When I carried the tray into the rec room, intending to put on my best French waiter impression, his chair was empty. Had he gone to the bathroom without telling me?
I didn’t know if I should’ve waited for him to come back or not. I set the tray on the floor between our bean-bag chairs and went out to find him. I strode out into the hallway and saw the bathroom door was standing wide open so he couldn’t have been in there he’d always locked the door whenever he went in there.
I headed back toward the staircase, thinking he’d decided to do something else when I noticed my bedroom door was half open. Mute-gray sunlight framed the doorway and seeped out from the bottom, spreading a thin ghostly veil across the floor.
I skulked toward my bedroom, ignoring the roar of applause blaring across the living room. My heart thumping with fear, I prayed that he would leap out from somewhere and scared me but he didn’t. I eased my bedroom door open with the tip of my right shoe, my skin prickling with excitement and tiptoed across the threshold.
Now it was my chance to scare him and finally get some payback for all of the times he’d done it to me. Instead, I stood inside the doorway, my right hand hanging loosely off the top of the scarred brass doorknob and gazed across my bedroom.
Jared stood on the right side of my bed, gazing out the window at the ominous eyesore sitting off in the distance like a clump of black clay. The front windows facing the driveway were no longer streaked with cobwebs and grime; they looked as if someone polished them to a clear protective sheen that reflected the sun. I wondered what other parts of the house would be in line for an impromptu makeover.
“Our lunch is waiting for us in–”
I tried to call his name but the sight of the house still paralyzed me with fear. I wanted to run over as fast I could and shut the curtains so neither one of us could see it again but I couldn’t bring myself to.
His shoulders were stooped over so that his arms dangled down by his sides. His mouth was drew back into a wide devilish grin that failed to expose the gum line The strong odor of licorice wafted around my bedroom, churned my gut and stung the back of my throat.
His eyes flickered with an insane euphoria that amplified my uneasiness. I followed his gaze, craned my head toward the open window and felt my eyes widen with shock. Fear seized my throat, squeezing a low pneumatic gasp from my lips.
“Father” stood half in and half out from under the front porch awning and waved his palms at us in an eerie, cordial gesture. He was bookended by the dancing redhead and Iris, their shoulder-length hair billowing around their heads like flames of red and black fire. Their thin lipless mouths tugged back into wide baleful grins that etched jagged cracks across their overcast faces and spilled thin plumes of soft gray ash into the breeze.
Jared mumbled under his breath, his gaze still frozen and strangely-bright. I drew my breath back, my palms slick and perked my ear hesitantly toward his face to hear what he was saying. His words traced the contours of my spine with frigid fingertips and sent a carpet of goosebumps trailing across my skin.
“The key to salvation is family.”
They arched their necks, craned their heads toward the sky and glared up with lifeless black eyes. Twin streams of small black cockroaches spewed out from their lips, scuttled across their face and down their chins. A booming laugh rose in the distance, softly at first before finally rising toward a loud hearty bellow that shook the trees and buzzed inside of my ears.
The nest broke formation and shrouded their supernatural forms from head to toe. Their slick black bodies glistening under the sour gray light, they buckled and collapsed onto the porch in a large shimmering black puddle and retreated into the pocket of darkness under the front porch awning. Cold fear tingling down my body from head to toe, I clamped my hand across my mouth to muffle the scream rising toward my lips and backed away from the open window. I struck the doorknob, sending small ripples of pain down my back and calves and made me wince through my teeth.” “Oh God, Mollie.” Jared said, snapping out of his trance. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Why did you come in here?”
The insane flicker in his eyes died; an intense quizzical look etched across his face tugged at the corners of his eyes. I sat on the foot of my bed, my hand pressed against my chest and took a few moments to collect myself.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” I said. “Why did you come in here?”
“My father called me.”
“Your dad is in Columbus.” I sighed.
“No, he’s not.” He snorted. “He’s over there, silly.”
He jerked his right thumb over his shoulder, motioning toward the sinister eyesore. The warm pleasing scent of pine sap floated through my bedroom now, replacing the noxious stench of licorice. I tucked a strand of hair behind my left ear, gazed down at my bedroom floor and felt my labored breathing remind me that what I’d just saw would never go away no matter how hard I tried.
“I don’t even know who that is.”
“You’ll know soon enough.” He smirked.
“I doubt that.”
He stared at me, his face puckered with confusion. He bent down, inching our faces a little too close and patted my knee.
“I don’t know about you,” He said, parading into the hallway. “but I’m starving.”
After he left the room, I took a few more deep breath to finish composing myself, ambled over and slid the window shut, spun the locks into place and drew the curtains shut on my way out.
4
“TIME to get up, kids!”
Dad’s booming voice swelled across the house amongst the sound of hurried footsteps and roused me out of a deep sleep. I sat up, rubbed the cobwebs from my eyes with the back of my hand, threw my covers aside and leaped out of bed. When I opened my door to see what all of the commotion was about, my parents were racing up the stairs with bright cherry smiles on their faces.
He waited for Jared to appear. “Get dressed because I’m taking everybody out for breakfast.”
“Cool.” Jared sighed, pumping his fist at the air.
Dad had set him up inside of the rec room with an air mattress we’d kept in the garage. He tried to talk Dad into letting him sleep on my bedroom floor, but he refused to give in. My father had his reason for not letting us sleep in the same room together but then I realized that Jared had his own reason for sleeping in here as well and it wasn’t anything close to what my parents had thought four days ago.
We hopped into Dad’s red Subaru Forrester, rolled our windows down for a taste of that sweet country air and fastened our seat belts. When he backed out of the garage, Dad took a right and followed the road hugging the right side of the house toward a steep incline flanked by tall pines and heavy-shaded oaks.
The satisfied look on Jared’s face sunk with a mixture of anger and confusion. Mom glanced at me in the reflection of her side mirror and winked, her russet-brown hair glinting in the bright morning sun.
“Isn’t this the long way into town?”
“It’s a good day for a nice drive in the country.” Dad said, perching his arm on the car door. “Don’t you think so, Mollie?”
“It sure is.”
When Mom and I nodded in agreement, Jared slumped back in his seat and laced his arms across his chest. He sighed and squinted at me.
“I just wanted to see my father.”
“You’ll get to see him tomorrow afternoon.”
His face cleaved by a pencil-th
in smirk, his eyes went wide and lit up with realization. He glanced down at the floorboard behind Dad’s seat and then at the back of Dad’s head, his mind grasped in some sort of deep dreadful thinking. I extended my hand in a reasoning manner when he slapped it away and cupped his hands over his ears.
“Why would you say that, Mollie?”
“I didn’t sa–”
“What the hell is going on back there?” Dad asked, glancing at us from the overhead mirror.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged, my cheeks flushing. “I was just telling him th–”
“She told me that my father lived somewhere else.”
“I didn’t say that at all.” My voice pinched my anger.
“I don’t care who said what to whom,” Dad said angrily. “I’m not afraid to turn this car around if you’re not going to behave.”
No matter how many times I tried to explain myself, my words came out garbled and intersected by quick clueless breaths. Mom spun around in her seat, fired a disgusted look at me from over her right shoulder and turned back around. As much as I wanted to tell them, I couldn’t find the right words to begin with.
My cheeks flushed with shame. All I wanted to do was shrink back in my seat until it swallowed me up in a stitched leather embrace and remind me that all of it was just a really bad dream. I knew there was no other way to avoid my parents’ scornful gaze so I swallowed my pride and did what was right.
“I’m sorry, Jared.”
He accepted my apology and sat back, arms folded, looking all cocky and smug. He knew I wouldn’t say anything to them about what happened two nights ago without risking my own neck, which was why he was acting like this.
We rode the rest of the way in silence. Although I’ve never considered myself to be much of a city girl to begin with, I felt better once we got into the city. Mom and I spat baby talk at a white chihuahua with black spots and a thin red collar sitting in the back of a maroon Buick; we tried to talk Dad into letting us have a dog a few years ago but we couldn’t because he was allergic.
Mattie’s Country Barn was one of many local establishments in town that sat on a gently-rising slope overlooking the highway running east-to-west in and out of Columbus. It was housed inside of a one-level red-brick building ringed by large flowerbeds with a slanted gray roof and a cheap white picket fence rooted along the front of the building. We’d come here every other Sunday (and not just because Dad liked the free coffee they offered on that particular day from nine a.m. to two p.m.) to have breakfast and spend some quality time.
Dad eased his car into the first available slot and killed the engine. He peered up at me from the rearview mirror, mouthed an “I love you” and followed it with a smile. I returned both the greeting and the smile, smoothed out the wrinkles in my shorts, and closed my door behind me.
Once we were inside, a heavyset brunette woman in a white shirt and brown khakis escorted us into a large dining area with knotty-pine tables and soft blue carpet; gilded picture frames were speckled across the scratchy white wallpaper, displaying colorful photos of nature in all of his splendor. Shafts of early-morning sunlight filtered through the light-blue curtains framing the big picture windows. We took the four sided table in the far right corner beside of the second window in the middle of the room and sat on opposite ends: Mom and I sat on the inside against the wall; Dad and Jared sat along the aisle.
The mingled aromas of coffee, syrup and breakfast food was a much pleasant smell compared to the lingering odor of licorice I’d been smelling for the past seventy-two hours. After the waitress brought our drinks, I stared out of the big picture window overlooking the tar-streaked stretch of highway below. The shopping mall sat across the street, its glass and stucco façade glinting under the mid-morning sun; there were only a few cars in the parking lot that I could see.
“Earth to Mollie.”
Something jerked at my right sleeve, snapping me out of my trance. Mom slipped her right hand away from my sleeve and folded both hands together and rested them gently on the tabletop, her horn-rimmed specs glinting in the sunlight. Jared and Dad were huddled together, scanning and pointing at their menus to decide what they were getting; if Jared got something Dad wanted then he’d offer him a bite of it so he would know what it tastes like.
“Are you okay?” She asked, ignoring the display of manliness on her right.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded, still shaking off some of the uneasiness from a little while ago. She slid her chair closer, leaned over the edge of the table and took my hand, her face pleated with concern. I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye slowly brush across the middle of the table but I wasn’t for sure what it could’ve been.
After the waitress, a middle-aged brunette with doe-brown eyes took our order, Jared asked, “Can I be excused?”
“Sure.” Dad nodded.
I cocked my head away from the table, peered over my left shoulder and watched him stride away from the table. He buried his left fist into the left front pocket of his shorts, drew the right corner of his lip into a half smile and hurried off. I thought about following him so that I could corner him about what he’d on the way here but I didn’t want to risk it.
“Is everything okay?” Dad asked, then took a sip of coffee and set the mug down. “You’ve been acting weird lately.”
“I’m fine.”
I took a drink of my chocolate milk to coat the anxiety roiling in my gut. I knew I couldn’t say anything to convince them otherwise.
“I just didn’t get much sleep last night.” I lied. “I kept tossing and turning. I’ll be good until my regular bedtime.”
“Yeah.” I nodded.
They shared an optimistic glance, then gazed back at me.
“You can’t go telling your cousin the truth about his mother.” Dad said, his voice firm and solemn. “If he was to find out that your Aunt Ruth had an affair while she was married to your uncle, he would lose his mind.”
“I didn’t say anyth–”
Mom swiped her hand across the air and said, “Even if you didn’t, you shouldn’t say anything like that at all, honey. At least for Jared’s sake.”
It wasn’t too long after that when the waitress brought our food. We waited until Jared came back before we started eating. We talked in between bites and watched the place fill up with more customers; waitresses hovered from to one table to the other, taking orders and offering refills.
Dad finished before the rest of us and nursed his coffee and signaled the waitress for the check. Once we were finished, I groaned in protest and rubbed my belly. We gathered our dishes together and waited for the waitress to collect them.
After she left, he turned to us and asked, “Did you get enough to eat?”
“Yeah.” I groaned, rubbing my belly. “I feel like a big ol’ stuffed pig.”
A chorus of laughter burst from our table, catching the attention of a few nearby customers when something caught the corner of my left eye. I glanced over at a tall bald man in a pin-striped blue shirt and red tie carrying a dark green bucket dotted with globs of white paint across the other side of the front counter. He gave the bucket to a young skinny man with dark hair wearing a dark-blue apron under street clothes; tattoos snaked up his arms and disappeared beneath his shirt sleeves while a tiny diamond earring glinted from his left earlobe.
Something snapped beside of my head, drawing my attention away from him.
“Do you want to go to the mall?” Mom asked.
“Yeah.”
“What were you looking at?” Dad asked.
“She was looking at that boy.” Jared motioned toward the busser by jabbing his left thumb over his left shoulder.
“Were you checking him out?” Mom groaned, grinning from ear to ear.
“No, I wasn’t.”
It was a good kind of embarrassment, this time.
“Yes, you were.” His voice had a slight inflection. “You want
to kiss him and hug him and make little bab–”
“No, I don’t.”
I gave his shoulder a playful slap and, grinning behind flushed cheeks, shook my head. Dad gathered the check, led us away from the table and up to the front of the restaurant where a pair of cash registers sat on top of a horseshoe shaped countertop. Mom took my hand and leaned in close enough to drown me in a cloud of her favorite perfume.
“We’ll look around the inside of a few places and get you some new tops.”
I nodded.
“We’ll go the arcade barn on the other side of the mall.” Dad said, nudging Jared’s left shoulder with his elbow.
“Yeah.” Jared exalted, pumping his fist in celebration.
A young bubbly-blonde cashier in a button-down white blouse and black slacks (the name LORI was stamped across her nametag in perfect black script) stood behind an L-shaped wooden counter stocked with baked goods and pre-packed sugary sweets. Dad gave a frustrated sigh, his shoulders hunched, and reached into his front pocket. He slapped a thin stack of dollar bills into my hand, pursed his lips in humiliation and nodded toward the table we’d been sitting at an hour and a half ago.
“I forgot to leave a tip.” Dad said. “Could you go back and set that on the table?”
Mom took Jared’s hand and guided him through the crowd of people waiting to be seated and went outside to wait for us.
I slipped a ten dollar bill onto the table when I noticed a crumpled packet of blueberry jelly sitting on the corner of Jared’s plate. He hadn’t ordered anything that would warrant him having to use blueberry jelly since all he had were three hotcakes, two pieces of sausage and a pile of hash browns. If he didn’t need it, what had he used it for?
I met up with Dad, glanced at something out of the corner of my left eye and saw the manager and the busser standing inside of the MEN’S bathroom. The manager was leaning against the door to hold it open as the busser knelt onto the floor, scrubbing at the wall between the two porcelain urinals. I craned my head past the front counter and, staring beyond the crowd of other customers paying their checks at the other side of the counter, squinted for a closer look.
Dark Avenues Page 4
