by Byars, Betsy
“I’m in here.”
“Mom, I went in that shop on Antique Row to get the binocs”—she spoke with her usual excitement as if she thought her mother were alone—“and I saw these granny glasses and I put them on ...”
She trailed off as she came around the doorway of the living room.
Herculeah’s mother used the front two rooms of the house for her work as a private investigator. The living room was the office; the dining room was the conference room.
It was not unusual for Herculeah to come home and find her mom with a client at the dining-room table or seated in front of her desk in the living room.
However, the scene Herculeah came upon in the living room was not usual. Her mother was at her desk. Her hands were stretched out in front of her, gripping a letter opener as if she intended to use it as a weapon.
The client was not seated. He stood facing the desk, his back to Herculeah.
Herculeah drew in her breath at the size of the man. Meat had not mentioned he was huge.
He was more than huge. The man was a giant. His shoulders were hunched forward, as if to make himself less noticeable. At the end of his long, apelike arms were hands in black leather gloves.
The man still wore his overcoat. His hat was pulled down low over his forehead.
Even though Herculeah couldn’t see his face, she thought there was something suspicious about the way he deliberately kept it turned away.
I am allowing Meat’s fears to get to me, she told herself.
“Oh, I didn’t know you had a client,” Herculeah said politely. She was surprised that her voice sounded normal. “I just wanted to tell you about some eyeglasses I tried on. It can wait.”
“If it’s important, I can take a break.”
“No.”
Herculeah paused. Did her mother want to, as she put it, take a break? Her mother had never suggested such a thing before. Clients came first with her mom.
The pause lengthened. It was like one of those long pauses in a play, when the audience grows uneasy, not knowing if some actor has forgotten a line. Herculeah was certainly uneasy, and her mother was obviously tense. The man was still facing away from Herculeah, so she didn’t know about him.
In that awkward pause, the man turned his head toward Herculeah. It was a slow, deliberate movement that somehow seemed threatening, like something out of a western movie.
The man’s hat was black. His overcoat was black. His face turned out to be gray, as if he had never been out in the daylight or-as Meat had said—as if he had just crawled out from under a rock.
And beneath the brim of that black hat, in that gray and colorless face, were eyes that seemed to burn into Herculeah’s brain. She felt as if those eyes could read her very thoughts.
She drew in her breath. A shiver of revulsion passed through her and she drew her jacket tighter, overlapping the sides as if for extra warmth.
And with those eyes burning into hers, a thought came unexpectedly to Herculeah: it’s the Moloch. She drew in her breath as she remembered.
Hercules vs the Moloch was the movie her mom had been watching thirteen years ago, the day she was born. In the delivery room, her mother had told the nurse: “I’m thinking about naming this baby Hercules. Hercules Jones.”
“If you do,” the nurse said, “he’ll turn out to be real little and the kids will tease him.”
“And if it’s a girl, she can be Herculeah.”
“I don’t think there is such a name. My little boy and I watched a Hercules movie the other night, and Samson was in it too.”
The doctor said, “That’s a thought. You could name her Samsonya.” He broke into a Russian song. “Oh, Samson-ya!”
The nurse said, “I didn’t know you could sing, Dr. Woods.”
“I didn’t either.” There was a pause while Mrs. Jones bore down. Then the doctor said, “It’s a girl!”
Her mother looked at her then and said in a sort-of surprised way: “It is Herculeah! Look how big and strong she is.”
When Herculeah’s mom told her that story, she ended with, “And to, this day, I don’t know what a Moloch looks like. I never got to see the end of the movie. I just know it’s something dark and dreadful.”
And now, standing in her living room was—Herculeah felt this in her bones—the Moloch.
She stared into his burning eyes.
And, she thought, it would take someone with the strength of a Hercules to get rid of him—or a Herculeah.
4
THE UNSPEAKABLE MONSTROID
Herculeah spoke to the Moloch in a voice that surprised her by still being absolutely normal.
“Oh, hi.”
The Moloch cleared his throat. The sound rumbled like indoor thunder, but he didn’t actually speak.
His mouth was the only straight line in his creased face. The lines across it made his lips seem to be sewed together.
“Okay, Herculeah, I’ll talk to you later.”
“Right.”
Beyond, in the living-room window, Herculeah saw Meat’s face rise like a huge worried sun. The Moloch turned his burning eyes in that direction, and Meat’s round face—more worried than ever—sank.
As the Moloch saw Meat’s face, he slid one gloved hand into his overcoat, the way Herculeah had seen men do on TV shows when reaching for a gun.
“It’s just my friend,” she said quickly. “I better go out and see what he wants.”
The Moloch turned back to her and spoke. And as he spoke, his lips pulled back into a terrible grimace. His words came through his teeth, like a ventriloquist’s.
“Your friend shouldn’t be looking in other people’s windows. He could get—” He paused, and the grimace grew more terrible as he finished, “let us say, arrested for things like that.”
Herculeah could smell his breath and she stepped back. It wasn’t bad breath—the kind that can be changed by a couple of breath mints. This was two-million-year-old breath. It was as if the air had been inhaled by a Moloch two million years ago and had now been released.
She backed further toward the hall. “I’ll tell him.” Then she looked at her mother. “Mom—”
“While you’re at it,” the Moloch interrupted, speaking through his teeth again, “tell him not to spy out his window.”
“Mom—”
“Some people take,” he paused as if to give emphasis to the word, “let us say, offense at being spied on. They don’t like to be offended. It makes them, let us say—”
Herculeah’s mother interrupted. “What were you trying to tell me, Herculeah?”
“Just that I’ll be right outside, on the steps, if you need me.”
Herculeah gave the Moloch an I’m-not-afraid-of-you look, turned, and started for the hall. She could feel the Moloch’s eyes on her even after she had turned the corner and was out of sight. Maybe those burning eyes could see through things like drapes and walls.
She went out the front door quickly and then sank down on the top step.
Meat stuck his head around the corner of the house. “Herculeah!”
She turned in his direction.
“What did you find out?”
“Nothing.”
“You had to have found out something. You were in there forever.”
“All I know is what you told me. He does look creepy, and he does have burning eyes and his breath smells like”—she gave a shudder—“like million-year-old air. But you didn’t tell me he was a giant!”
“I thought I did. Anyway, come over here.” Meat beckoned.
“What for?”
“I can hear some of what they’re saying. I think I actually heard the word ...” He trailed off as if reluctant to say the word.
“Meat, I don’t have to eavesdrop on my mom. My mom will tell me what they said. My mom is very open about things. She’s actually taken me with her on stakeouts.”
She brushed off her jeans. “Anyway, Meat, I saw your face in the window and so did he.”
&n
bsp; “I saw him see me.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t see him reach under his coat like this”—she slid her hand across her stomach—“as if he were reaching for a gun.”
Meat gasped.
“Plus he said, ‘Your friend shouldn’t be looking in other people’s windows. He could get, let us say, arrested for things like that.’”
Meat drew in his breath.
“Plus he said, ‘While you’re at it, tell him not to spy out his window.’”
Meat drew in another ragged breath. He did not want to hear any more pluses, but he had to ask, “He saw me then, too? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want him to see me.”
“Yes, and you didn’t let me finish. It gets worse. He said, ‘Some people take offense at being spied on. They don’t like to be offended. It makes them, let us say—’”
“Let us say what?”
“I don’t know. My mom interrupted him. But the Moloch is—”
Meat said quickly, “What is his name?”
“Moloch. It’s not his name. It’s what he is.”
“What is a Moloch? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“I don’t know exactly. I tried to find the word once in the dictionary, but it wasn’t there. I think it’s a creature, some sort of unspeakable monstroid, maybe from olden times. It was in a Hercules movie.”
“Unspeakable monstroid describes him all right.” Meat nodded his head at Herculeah’s house. “I wish he hadn’t seen me.”
“I do too, Meat.”
“He’s the kind of person that you don’t even want to know you exist.”
“I agree,” said Herculeah.
“If you want to keep on existing.”
5
M FOR MURDER
“I didn’t want to tell you this,” Meat said as he sat down beside Herculeah on the steps.
“What?”
“Remember I said that I could hear some of what they were saying?”
“Yes. What did you hear?”
“I think I heard ‘murder.’”
“Murder! My mother does not investigate murder! The police do that. Be real.”
“Maybe this wasn’t a modern murder—maybe it was something that happened in the past. All I know is the word ’murder’ was mentioned.”
Meat paused. In the silence that followed, he said, “What if we went in the back door very quietly and stood by the kitchen door—”
“Forget it.”
“In my house, you can hear things through the heat vents. That’s how I found out my mom was not taking me to see Terminator 2, but to the dentist. If we could find the right heat duct ...”
“No.” Herculeah sighed. “This should have been a really happy day for me. I was getting the binocs and the eyeglasses that really make me think better, but for some reason I can’t enjoy it. I have an uneasy feeling.”
“Me too. The Moloch knows me.”
“It’s not just because of the Moloch. While I was standing in front of Dead Oaks, my hair began to frizzle, and that always means I’m in danger. Only I don’t know why. And when I don’t know the reason for something, I’m drawn to it. I have to know.” She leaned forward. “I wish I could get inside that gate.”
“I know how to get in,” Meat said.
Herculeah turned to him. “How?”
“Well, one time—this was HaIIoween—some of us wanted to toilet paper those dead trees, and I said, ‘There’s no way to get in,’ and Howie said, ‘Follow me,’ and we went around back—I didn’t want to go because even in the daytime that house gives me the creeps, and here it was night. But I followed along with the rest of them. There were four of us, me and—” Meat broke off. “I hear him. He’s coming! He’s coming!” he said. “Let’s hide.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m not hiding. This is my house.”
“Well, I don’t want him to see me.”
Meat got up quickly and ran to the side of the house. He paused to say, “If he asks, say you haven’t seen me.” And he disappeared from sight.
Herculeah heard the door open behind her. She took a deep breath and got to her feet.
The Moloch came out the door, pulling his hat lower on his forehead. Herculeah stepped back against the railing to make room for him to pass. She deliberately kept her eyes on him.
She waited, expecting him to say something, dreading the smell of his two-million-year-old breath, but he went by as if she didn’t exist.
At the bottom of the steps, he glanced both ways and then started toward Antique Row. Meat’s face appeared around the corner of the house. The Moloch paused and looked directly at Meat.
Meat gasped. Then he said quickly, “I’m looking for my dog. You haven’t seen a dog, have you?”
The Moloch didn’t answer.
“It’s brown with a little white spot right there.” Meat touched his forehead with fingers that trembled.
“Well, thanks for your time,” Meat said. “Sorry to have bothered you.” He disappeared back behind the house.
Herculeah hesitated a moment and then she ran up the steps and into the house.
Her mother was still sitting at her desk. The letter opener was clenched in her hand.
The cat, Bosco, came into the living room and jumped up on the sofa. The cat was usually curious about clients, but apparently Bosco had not liked the Moloch any more than Herculeah and Meat did.
“I can still smell him,” Herculeah said, drawing in a breath. “Ugh! What a gross man.”
“He’s not that terrible.”
“Huh! You know who I thought about when I saw him?”
“Who?”
“The Moloch!”
“Who?” Her mother looked blank, as if she had been expecting another answer.
“The Moloch. The Moloch! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten. You know that awful creature that Hercules had to fight?”
Her mother’s shoulders seemed to relax. She smiled. “Oh, that Moloch.”
“Yes. Hercules vs the Moloch. It was because of that movie that I got my name. How could you forget?”
“I have a lot on my mind right now, Herculeah.”
“Well, so do I.”
Herculeah sat down on the sofa and took Bosco on her lap. “Mom, as soon as that man turned around and looked at me, I thought, He’s the Moloch, because he had this unspeakable monstroid look—well, you saw it. I don’t have to describe it to you.” She leaned forward eagerly. “So?”
“So what?” her mother asked.
“So what did he want?”
“It doesn’t concern you, Herculeah.”
Herculeah couldn’t believe her ears. “What?”
“It doesn’t concern you.”
“Of course it concerns me. The man was in my house. He made threats against my friend—”
“The less you know about this, the better.”
“Mom! Meat wanted to come in and listen through the heat vents. I said, ‘No.’ I said that you were very open with me. I said that was one of the best things about you. I said I didn’t have to eavesdrop like other kids because you would tell me anything I wanted to know.”
Her mother smiled a tired smile. “Well,” she said with a shrug, “this time you were wrong.”
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“That’s right.”
“But, Mom, maybe I could help you.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”
“Mom, I really helped on your last case. I was the stakeout at the mall. If I had not been at the mall, you would never have located the Ryans’ daughter. And—”
“This is a different kind of thing. I don’t want you involved.”
“I do not believe this. You know what you’re teaching me to do, don’t you? Eavesdrop.”
Mrs. Jones braced herself on the desk and stood. She glanced down and brushed some lint from her black pantsuit.
“You and Dad are teaching me to be a sneak. First he won’t tell me what’s going on at Dead Oaks and now
you—”
“What about Dead Oaks?”
“Dad was there this afternoon.”
“What was he doing?”
“How would I know? Nobody tells me anything.”
Herculeah’s mother started into the hall. The cat, alerted by the activity, jumped down from Herculeah’s lap. Herculeah got up and followed her mother. She changed her tactics. “Well, can I ask you one question?”
“You can ask.”
“When you file this case in your filing cabinet, will you file it under M—for murder?”
6
HUSH MONEY
Herculeah watched in silence as her mother shrugged into her coat and picked up her briefcase. Her mother didn’t answer.
“And is it also a big secret where you’re going?”
“I’m going to the police station. I need to check on something.”
“What?”
“Oh, here. Here’s some money, Herculeah. What were you going to get? Oh, binoculars. And didn’t you say something about eyeglasses?”
She reached into her purse and brought out her wallet. She handed Herculeah a ten-dollar bill. Then, after a moment’s thought, she added another ten.
“This is bribery,” Herculeah said, eyeing the money. “You’re just doing this to get rid of me.”
“I’m doing this because I want you to have the binoculars and whatever else you mentioned.”
Herculeah didn’t take the money, and her mother, smiling a little, reached out and tucked the bills into the pocket of Herculeah’s jeans.
Her mother went out the door, and Herculeah followed her onto the sidewalk. Meat came around the side of the house with his hand over his heart.
“He saw me,” he told Herculeah. Then to her mother, “Mrs. Jones, that guy saw me.”
“I wouldn’t worry about him,” Herculeah’s mom said as she unlocked the car. “He’s got more important things on his mind.”
“I said that I was looking for my dog, but I don’t think he believed me.”
Her mother turned. “Get your own supper, Herculeah. I might be late.”
She drove off, and Herculeah and Meat stood watching the car until it disappeared.
“Who is he? Did you find out?”
“She wouldn’t tell me. She gave me this.” Herculeah pulled out the twenty dollars. “It was like hush money—money to shut me up.”
