Magic Street
Page 22
"Old man McCallister died a long time ago," said Ceese.
"I just know how these dreams come true," said Mack. "I can think of a lot of ways she could have her husband in her arms again but none of them is very nice."
"Any other dreams?"
"Sherita Banks," said Mack. "She just wants boys to think she's cute. She isn't. She's got a really big butt like her mother. Beyond what most guys would find attractive. Family curse, kind of. But she doesn't dream that the butt gets small, she dreams that boys come up and put their hands on her butt and tell her she's beautiful."
"Sounds kind of sweet," said Yo Yo.
"No," said Mack. "That dream could come true, all right, but it wouldn't be sweet. It could be a gang getting up a train on her."
Ceese nodded. "Anybody else?"
"I was just starting Professor Williams's dream. Not the one where he kills Bag Man. The one where he's listening while people recite his poems. Only this time of course I didn't hear the poems, I just heard the wings beating only that's when they stopped. That's when I woke up."
"So you think those wishes came true?" asked Ceese.
"They didn't always come true back when I didn't know how to stop them," said Mack. "But this time, when I didn't have any control, when I was flying on the back of that thing from dream to dream—I thought, They're coming true. I knew it. Like Yo Yo said. He wants the wishes to come true. He was going from dream to dream."
"And then he stopped when he got to Professor Williams."
Mack nodded. "Yes, but I don't care where he stopped, I care what he did. We got to get on the phone. We got to call people. Like when Tamika was inside the waterbed. If I'd known what was happening, I could have called Mr. Brown and woke him up and told him to look for Yolanda in the water."
"Right," said Ceese, "but then he might have run outside and headed for a pool and he would never have found her at all. I mean, what do we warn people of?"
"We got to try," said Mack. "We got to phone people. We got to go places and try to stop things."
"You got a phone here that works?" Ceese asked Yo Yo.
"No," said Ceese. "But my mom does. Look, I'll go home and we'll start calling. Find out about Sherita. Where she is. I can get a patrol car to go there and stop it if it's really happening like you think. A gang rape."
"What about Sabrina and her nose?" asked Mack.
"I'll call her family. Maybe she's cut herself. Maybe they can still get her to a hospital—reattach it."
"Then why you sitting here, boy?" asked Yo Yo.
"Mrs. McCallister won't answer the phone," said Mack. "She turns it off at night."
"Then you two go there while I go home. We had... who was it?... Sabrina, Mrs. McCallister, Sherita Banks, Professor Williams, and then you woke up. I'm calling everybody and you're going over to McCallisters' house."
By the time Mack got up from the couch and outside the house, he could see Ceese already going around the bend in the road on his way down the hill to home.
Then Yo Yo brought the motorcycle out of the garage and revved it up while Mack got on behind her.
Across the street, the back of the Joneses' house looked out over the street at the bottom of the hairpin—and Yo Yo's house. Now Moses Jones was out on the back deck stark naked yelling down at them. Mack couldn't hear what he was saying because the motorcycle was so loud. But he could see how he nearly had a fit, jumping up and down and screaming after Yo Yo raised one finger. It wasn't even the bad finger. But maybe in the dark old Moses Jones couldn't tell. He was still jumping up and down when they roared on up the hill to McCallisters'.
Ophelia McCallister lived in the house she had shared with her husband before he died. It was right at the top of Cloverdale, just a couple of houses from where the road dead-ended at the always-locked and often-climbed gateway leading into Hahn Park. Mack got off the bike before it even stopped, pushing himself up like in a game of leapfrog and hopping up so the bike kept going underneath him. But of course he still had a lot of momentum, so he staggered forward and since Yo Yo had just brought the bike to a stop, he crashed into her.
She switched the motor off.
Across the street two neighbors had come to their windows to look at the motorcycle and they didn't seem too happy. Though at least they weren't naked and jumping up and down like Moses Jones had been.
They got to the door and Mack rang the bell and then he knocked loud and started shouting,
"Mrs. McCallister!"
Now the neighbors were out of their houses. "What are you doing?" demanded Harrison Grand, the next-door neighbor on the park side. "Do you know what time it is?"
"I don't know," said Mr. Grand. And then he looked at Yo Yo and suddenly his face brightened.
"She keeps a spare key."
"Where?" asked Mack.
Harrison Grand immediately jogged to the juniper next to the front door and lifted up a rock that turned out to be a fake. He took out a key and within a few moments he and Mack and Yo Yo were searching the house.
"She isn't here," said Grand.
"I thought she would be," said Mack.
"Well she was," said Yo Yo. "Her bed's been slept in. But she's not in it now."
"Why would she leave?" asked Grand.
"Mr. Grand," said Mack, "you know where Mr. McCallister's buried?"
"Well you can bet it ain't Forest Lawn," he said.
Again he glanced at Yo Yo, and again he was suddenly enlightened. "I remember she has a cab come and drive her there every week but I took her once a few years ago and it's... it's..."
He walked to the calendar on the wall over the phone. He pointed to the name and address of the cemetery that had given it out to their customers, including Mrs. McCallister. "But you don't think she's gone to visit her husband's grave in the middle of the night."
Mack knew what would probably happen but he tried to explain anyway. "I know this sound crazy but I think she's with her husband now."
"Dead?"
"No, alive. But with him. You know where his plot is?"
"I don't think so."
Yo Yo touched his shoulder. "Yes you do."
"Yes," he said. "I do."
"Can you take me there?" asked Mack.
"Right now?" he asked.
"You saying she's down inside the—"
He fell silent for a moment, Yo Yo's hand on his shoulder. Then he got an urgent look about him and took off running for the garage of his own house. "Come on, Mack! You come along and help me dig that coffin up!"
"Better get a crowbar to open the lid!" cried Mack as he followed him over to his yard, his driveway. Before they got a pick and shovel and crowbar into the back of his SUV, they could hear Yo Yo's motorcycle taking off at top volume.
Ralph Chum was working late on a client's quarterlies when the phone rang. He picked it up.
"Barbara?" he said.
"Mr. Chum?" asked a male voice.
"Who is this?"
"This is Cecil Tucker, sir. I apologize for calling this late, but it might be an emergency." Ralph vaguely knew that Ceese Tucker was a policeman. Sabrina had mentioned it—she once had a thing for him, though of course it came to nothing.
A policeman calls at this time of night.
"Might be? Is something wrong with Barbara? Was there an accident?"
"Nothing like that," said Ceese. "Sir, is your daughter Sabrina at home?"
"She's asleep, Ceese." Was he actually asking her out, this long after her high school crush on him?
"I know she is, sir. I just wanted to make sure she was home. Sir, would you be willing to go and check on her?"
"Check on her? What are you talking about?"
"Sir, this is going to sound insane. Or like a cruel joke. But I assure you it is not a joke, and I am not insane. Please go into her room and look at her face."
"Look at her—"
"Make sure that nothing has happened to her face."
"What could happen to her face!"
"Please check your daughter, sir."
Ralph knew that this was insane, but Ceese sounded so grave, and the thought of this somehow being linked to what happened to poor Tamika Brown... "All right," he said, but he still let annoyance come out in his voice.
"With the light on, sir," said Ceese.
"Yes, with the light on!"
Angrily, Ralph Chum got up from his desk, left his office, and padded through the house on slippered feet until he got to Sabrina's room. From the door he could see that she was fine. There was no need to turn the light on. This was some stupid prank, and now that Ceese was a cop, Ralph could complain about him to somebody with more influence on him than his parents.
He turned away but now the fear came to the surface. Was it possible that Curtis Brown was telling the truth? That something strange and terrible had happened to Tamika and, as he said when he wept on the stand, he might have saved her in time if only he had believed that such things were even possible.
What was it Ceese wanted him to check for? Poor Sabrina, with her nose that seemed to spread halfway across her face. Should he wake her up by turning on the light, and then tell her that Ceese Tucker wanted him to look at her face to see if anything was wrong with it? He knew what Sabrina would say: Of course something's wrong with it. Even plastic surgeons refuse to work on it because narrowing my nostrils enough to make a difference would leave scars and make me look like a monster instead of just a freak. And then she'd cry. And when Barbara got home from her office retreat she'd be furious at him and...
And he had to look.
He turned on the light. Sabrina stirred a little but did not wake. Ralph walked into the room and looked at her. She was lying on her side, facing the wall. Ralph couldn't really see. When he leaned over her, his own shadow obscured her features.
So he sighed, reached out, and pulled at her shoulder.
She rolled over and opened her eyes.
There was a growth the size and texture of a walnut on the right side of her nose, the side that had been on the pillow.
"What is that," murmured Ralph.
"What?" said Sabrina.
"There's something growing there. Near your... eye."
"Ow," she said.
Where she had touched it, a little blood came to the surface.
"What is it, Daddy? It hurts. Oh, it hurts."
"Get up and get dressed," he said. "We're taking you to the emergency room."
"What is it!"
"Something growing there," said Ralph. "And we're getting you to a doctor right now. I'll wake your sister. We can't leave her here alone."
Before he got to Keisha's room, though, he remembered Ceese Tucker and went back to his office and picked up the receiver.
"How did you know?" he asked.
"Is she all right?"
"Don't you already know she isn't?"
"I hoped I was wrong. What is it?"
"She's got a growth on her nose. It bleeds when she touches it."
"Get her to a hospital right now," said Ceese.
"That's what I'm doing. I'm hanging up now. But we're going to talk, you and I."
"Yes sir. God be with your daughter, sir."
Ralph hung up and went back to wake Keisha so they could take Sabrina to the hospital.
When Mike Herald pulled his patrol car up in front of the house it was obvious there was some kind of party going on inside—the bass from the music was throbbing so loud that he could feel it even before he turned off the engine. But nobody had called to complain. This was a gang neighborhood, and they all knew better than to call in the cops.
But apparently Ceese Tucker didn't know any better. A rape in progress? How would he know that? Who would have called? These gangbangers raped girls all the time. It was like an initiation for the girl. A party favor for the boys. Nobody ever reported it. And it would be worth his life to walk up to that door alone.
Backup was coming. Maybe two minutes away.
There were a couple of kids already out on the street, and of course they noticed the LAPD
vehicle. One of them was starting to sidle toward the house. To give warning.
Mike got out of the car, drew his weapon, and pointed at the boy with his other hand. Not aiming the gun at him, just pointing. The boy froze.
Mike looked around quickly. No weapons being pointed at him. Nobody was on alert—this wasn't a drug deal or anything they planned. Just a party. Didn't expect cops to show up.
Another LAPD vehicle turned the corner, moving fast. His backup was here. He should still wait till they were out of the car, till they could cover the back door and go in in force. But the girl was in there, and maybe there was a chance to stop this thing before it got too bad for her.
So he jogged to the door. It was a piece of crap like all the materials used in these houses. He stepped back and stomped his foot hard against the door just beside the knob. The frame broke and let the door swing free. The music was so loud nobody heard it. He also couldn't hear if the other cops were running toward him or not. Couldn't hear anything except the music.
He moved into the house. Nobody in the living room, where the stereo made the cheap furniture tremble like an earthquake.
In the kitchen was a girl making a sandwich. Probably the girlfriend. Her brother was raping her friend in the back room and she was making a sandwich. She had her back to the kitchen door and didn't hear him. He knew he should neutralize her first—get her down on the floor, out of harm's way—but he let her be and moved on toward the bedrooms.
Now the music wasn't quite so loud and he could hear a girl's voice. "Please, God, no." Or was she saying, "Please, Rod, no"? Wasn't the boy's name Rod?
The door was slightly ajar. Six boys, none of them older than fourteen, were gathered around a bed, laughing and leaning in, and some of them were holding the arms and legs of a girl who had been stripped from the waist down. She was crying, and one of the youngest boys was poised over her.
"Come on, Sherita, I want you so bad."
It was as if the words had plunged a dagger into her heart, the way she sobbed. But she also held still. Surrendering now.
Mike shoved the boy nearest to him, sending him sprawling across Sherita's body, knocking Rod aside. The other boys whirled around to find Mike training his gun on each of them in turn. "All of you little bastards get down on the floor with your hands on your heads. Right now!"
No chance for them to put on their brave gang faces. No chance to go for whatever weapons they might have had.
"She wanted it!" Rod was screaming. "She just showed up here, she just showed up and she Mike pushed the barrel of the pistol into his face and Rod dropped to the floor.
Mike looked at the youngest of the boys. "You. Get up and put something over her privates.
Right now!"
He did.
The stereo went silent in the living room.
Another officer stood beside him, gun drawn. "You crazy, coming in here without backup?"
"Stopped them before they got into her," said Mike.
"Well, then, it's only attempted, isn't it, you moron," said the other cop.
"Let's ask her if she wished I waited," said Mike.
Sherita rolled onto her side and curled into a ball, weeping. The young boy untucked a corner of the sheet and brought it up over her rear end. Her butt was so big that it wouldn't stay, it slipped off.
"That's all right," said Mike, holstering his weapon and putting a hand on her shoulder. He helped her off the bed, then pulled the whole sheet off and helped her wrap it around herself. Then he kicked a couple of the boys to get them out of the way so they could walk out.
The girl from the kitchen was standing in the hallway, holding her sandwich with two bites out of it. She looked genuinely horrified. "Sherita," she said, "when you get here? Wha
t's going on?"
"Your friend was about to be raped by Rod," said Mike savagely. "And don't pretend you didn't know about it. Don't pretend you didn't help him set it up."
"Swear to God!" she said. "That little shit was going to rape her?"
Mike brushed her aside, bouncing her off the wall just a little as he continued to convey Sherita Banks down the hall and into the living room where the other cop, the one who had turned off the stereo, was watching.
"I'm taking her home," said Mike. "I'll get her statement."
Ceese finished his calls with his mother frantically demanding that he tell her what was going on.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he said.
"Try me!" she demanded.
"You're waking people up from a sound sleep because Mack had a nightmare?"
"Same kind of nightmare he had the night Tamika Brown got herself inside her parents'
waterbed," said Ceese. "Same kind of dream as when Mr. Tyler got hit on the head by an I-beam cause his daughter Romaine wished he could be home with her all the time."
"What are you saying? That somebody's murdering people?"
"I'm saying somebody's making wishes come true in a sick, twisted, evil way, and it's happening tonight."
"Wishes?" she said. "Like in fairy tales?"
"No," said Ceese. "Wishes like in hell, where the devil tortures sinners by making their wishes come true."
"But Tamika Brown wasn't a sinner!"
He couldn't believe she was arguing religion with him. "Who says the devil plays fair?" said Ceese. "Now I got to go."
"Where, at this time of night?"
Ceese had his keys in his hand and was at the front door. "Professor Williams didn't answer the phone."
"All this comes from Mack Street's dreams?"
"There's more to the boy than most folks thought."