It wasn't possible. But he felt it nonetheless. His back was to the boiler and there was something behind him and to the right. He was close to bolting for the door when he heard Seth's footsteps come down two of the stairs.
"Hey...ah, Captain...ah?" Seth began to say, but Gayle's voice murmured something. "I mean, Commander? Could you bring up my tools?" William could picture the tall man squatting at the top of the stairs.
The sound of Seth's voice and perhaps more, the noise of his boots on the stairs had, as if by magic, dispelled William's fears. He took a deep breath, looked around into the gloom, and saw nothing. Crossing to the door, he opened it and the light from the hallway streaming in, seeming to bring with it fresh air. He glanced back into the room and shook his head in wonder at himself.
"Yeah," he called up to Seth. "I'll get them for you." William turned, and now the depths of the boiler room seemed inky black compared to the brightness of the hall. The boiler itself was a large dark outline and he could only barely make out the toolbox on the floor near it.
"Wow!" he said to himself. Then raising his voice, he called up stairs, "Gayle! Your husband is being an idiot!"
"Good that you can finally admit," she replied.
He smiled, but it was part grimace. The big man went to the boiler and stood in front of the roaring hunk of metal, shaking his head. Finally, he reached up on top of it and fished around for one of the light bulbs. Just as he was screwing it in the image from earlier, popped into his head and he paused; the mental picture of the black thing lingered in his mind.
"No! No more messing around!" he said harshly as he gave the bulb a few hard twists. Light flooded the room.
William was extremely angry with himself, but also worried. He'd always prided himself on his courage, but now twice in one day he had been afraid of the dark! The thought occurred to him that he had been too long on shore. He felt he needed to get back on the water and test himself against nature's harshest elements.
There had been many times during rescue operations when he had seen fear in the eyes of his men, but he'd always been able to cast aside his own doubts. However, it had now been four years since his last blue water assignment, and the idea that he was beginning to become shy, bothered him.
He didn't sit in the dark this time. It would be a waste of time, so he grabbed up the toolbox and went upstairs. Seth bobbed his head as a goodbye and William headed to the shower to get ready for dinner. When he finished, he noticed that the house had warmed perceptibly.
"Well the ole bitch is working now!" he observed.
"Who is working what when?" Gayle stood in the doorway. She looked tired after the long days of hard labor and he knew she was dreading this dinner almost as much as he. Gayle barely knew either Greg or Henny, but she knew enough to know this was going to a long night. She wore a simple knee length, flowered dress and cast her eyes at his blue jeans with slight disapproval.
"I was referring to our boiler, the repair man has named it that, and to tell the truth, it seems fitting."
"Will it be fitting when Katie starts telling her friends that her house has an Ole Bitch in it?" She smiled at him. It was a tired smile but he could tell that she was also happy.
"Billy the Boiler it is then!" He gave his wife a quick kiss, smacked her on the bottom, and pushed her out the door. "Children. Time to go!" he bellowed so that the whole house could hear, although he need not have since they were all sitting in the living room waiting.
Gayle gave each of her children a quick once over. "Katie, Little Red has to stay here. Take off the cape, please." Katie stuck out her lower lip, but pulled the cape off.
5
Except for the houses on either end, all of the homes on Colonels Row had the same design and floor plan, but it was only the exterior of the Harris house, which truly resembled the rest.
Greg greeted the Jerns at the door and William made sure to keep his face neutral as he entered. It appeared the home had been professionally decorated. The hardwood floors in the living room were carpeted over in light gold, deep and soft. The drapes, an even lighter shade of the gold, complemented the carpet perfectly. The walls shone in a fine color of red, while the crown molding and baseboards contrasted with a delicate red/gold leaf pattern.
The furniture added to the sumptuousness of the room. William would find out later from Gayle that the style of the four pieces was French Colonial. They were upholstered in a light cream which accented the dark wood.
After the Jern's entered and had given their proper greetings, complete with the obligatory phrases: "I hope you didn't go to too much trouble, and dinner smells great!" Greg asked them to have a seat in the living room since Henny wasn't quite ready. They had a choice of a couch, love seat, a single chair, and something William couldn't ever imagine sitting on.
It looked to be a combination of a chair and a small bed and the idea of reclining on the thing seemed ridiculous to him. If Gayle had been wearing a toga and hand-feeding him grapes, then maybe he would've given it a shot. He steered his wife to the couch and she gave him a look, heavy with meaning.
Gayle liked to people watch and once when they had gone out to eat, she had observed the fact that the older a couple was, the less likely they were to talk while in a restaurant. Her theory was that due to the loudness of the room around them they couldn't hear each other and had long ago got tired of saying, "What did you say dear?"
William thought otherwise. They still spoke just as much, but used body language to communicate. He could imagine people holding long conversations, using the simplest of gestures and Gayle and he were already accumulating their own nonverbal code.
Holy Crap! Look at this place! Gayle exclaimed, using only a widening of her eyes, followed by quick glance about.
I know. Be cool about it, he responded by way of the tiniest nod combined with a slight down turn of his lips. He suddenly felt a touch of despondency at not being able to furnish his own home this way. Gayle and he had been together for so long now that she immediately picked up on this.
It's ok, dear. You're a good husband and father, and I love you, she made this known by rubbing his back in a circular motion twice, followed by a quick couple of pats.
His look in return, brief eye contact, a very slight rise to the eyebrows and then downcast eyes, told her, I know, but still...
Will wasn't quite so inconspicuous with his non-verbal communication. Not only did his eyes say, Wow, but his lips actually mouthed the word. Talitha stared openly, however not in admiration. She inspected the room, first as a whole, taking in the opulence but then at each object in turn.
She had fantastic perception and could see and speak about the details of objects and people with amazing clarity. Her eyes hung the longest on the three pieces of art in the room. William had no sense for art and other than the Mona Lisa, couldn't name another piece, he also considered any man that could to be highly suspect.
"These two are reproductions, but still nice," Talitha commented on two different pictures of flowers. "Unless you actually own a Renoir print?" she asked Greg. His smile dipped at the corners and he just shook his head no, in the slightest manner. "But this one..." She paused and studied it from a few different angles, "...no edition numbering...this is a one of kind."
"Yes!" Greg exclaimed with delight. "It's a Caesar Fantin!" Greg could not be more suspect in William's book.
"Never heard of him," Talitha said evenly. "His strokes are so blatant, it's no wonder it was never sent to print. The piece clashes with the other two as well. I'd move it to another room." With that she smiled a disarming smile at a flabbergasted Greg and sat down next to her father.
"I love these drapes, Greg," Gayle mentioned after shooting her daughter a sharp look. They talked a while about the drapes as if they could be interesting to anyone.
William didn't know blatant strokes from subtle ones, but it was nice to see someone as pretentious as Greg, shown to be the phony he was, by a sixteen year old. Movemen
t caught his eye, Katie had begun climbing up on the chair/bed and William had just turned to pull her down, when Henny chose to make her Grand Entrance.
It could only be described as such, since she tapped her feet loudly at the top of the stairs in order to announce herself. William watched as everyone's head turned to look up, just as Henny had intended. His did not, instead he caught Talitha's eye, and they shared a quick smile. Not to be rude, he stood up and turned to watch Henrietta "Henny" Harris slowly descending their great sweeping staircase.
Henny was a beautiful woman and the opposite of her dull and doughy husband. She had long thick black hair that hung down her back and lay across her shoulders in gentle waves. Her skin tone, a perfect and perpetual tan showed off her flashing white teeth to their fullest. Her eyes were as black as her hair and she tended to look down her long nose with them half closed in a suggestive manner.
Everything about her was suggestive.
Tonight was no different. She was terribly overdressed for the occasion, wearing a black cocktail dress that would have been more appropriate at the "Plaza" than dinner with the neighbors. The dress was almost too inappropriate in another way as well. She practically fell out of the top of it and with each slow downward step, her full breasts swayed and danced provocatively. It was hypnotic and only after she reached the first landing did William realize that it would be proper to perhaps look at something else. He pulled his eyes away from her and looked over at Will.
He was mesmerized as well. His mouth hung open and his head bobbed up and down in time with each of her deliberate steps. Embarrassed for his son, he went to give Gayle a smile, but her eyes were locked on Henny. They weren't mesmerized however, they were flinty, and her jaw was set tight, the muscles of her face pronounced.
Still not trusting himself to look in Henny's direction, he turned and saw Katie frozen in place. She had been bouncing up and down on the odd chair/bed and was currently standing full on it; her little mouth lay open in a little "O."
Talitha was the only one not sucked into the visual abundance of Mrs. Harris. A smile that seemed full of understanding played about her lips. She caught her father's eye again but William turned away. He was embarrassed to have felt a sudden fullness in his groin at the sight of Henny coming down the stairs and he knew that Talitha could be too perceptive sometimes.
"Mrs. Jern, Commander Jern, thank you for coming tonight," Henny greeted them. He looked back at her and through a concentration of will, looked her in the eye.
Gayle spoke for the family, "Henny, it's so good to see you again. You look wonderful as always." Gayle beamed at Henny, but William knew Gayle well enough to know that she was a little irate. It was the way she held her head off angle instead of full on.
"Thank you." Henny beamed right back with a radiant smile. "You look beautiful as well...so natural."
Gayle's turned a slight bit more away, now nearly looking down her shoulder at Henny almost dismissively. She hadn't expected a formal dinner at the end of such a long day and as such, she wore very little makeup and her hair had only been brushed out. Henny's words were correct however, Gayle had a very natural beauty about her. It was the tone however, that set Gayle's teeth on edge. The tone Henny used suggested that Gayle was plain in her naturalness.
"Commander Jern," Henny continued, as she walked over to him. She had beautiful white teeth. Her tongue came out delicately to moisten her lips. Erotic. He had the same feeling the other two times he had met her—erotic. "It's been so long."
He smiled and nodded but was puzzled; it's been so long since what? William didn't know exactly what, but he suddenly felt a powerful sense of guilt. He turned to his wife with an odd desire to proclaim his innocence, however the feeling died quickly as he suddenly saw just how old his wife appeared. With her standing next to Henny, the slight wrinkles around the eyes, and the few grey hairs, stood out in a way he never noticed before. He got the feeling that Henny had been blessed in some way; the two ladies were only months apart in age, but Henny looked a good twelve to fifteen years younger.
Henny had moved on, as these thoughts raced through his head and had turned to Will. "Look at this handsome young giant, you must be Will Junior. How do you do?"
Will's ears turned a dark shade of red, but he managed a very audible, "I'm fine, Mrs. Harris. Thank you for having us."
"Talitha? Right?" Henny asked as she turned toward William's oldest daughter. Henny held out her hand to Talitha. After a quick puzzled frown slipped over her face, Talitha reached out and shook Henny's hand. There was a moment of silence as the two stood shaking hands. It was a short moment, but an odd one and Henny broke it by saying, "You are the very image of your mother...so beautiful."
"Thank you, Mrs. Harris," Talitha replied without any hint of emotion. "I like your home. It's so wonderfully appointed."
"Well, we don't want dinner to get cold do we?" Greg stepped in. "I'm positively starving to death! Amy! Dinner!" he called upstairs.
"I'm not ready yet!" Amy screamed back down angrily. William was amazed that she would talk to her father like that and no one spoke for an uncomfortable couple of seconds until Katie filled the silence.
"Mr. Harris, sir? Are you from African?" she asked Greg sweetly, still standing on the chair/bed. Startled by the sight, William took two large steps and snatched her off it.
"I think you mean, are you from Africa?" Greg corrected her, smiling at the cute little girl. "And no I'm not. I'm from Delaware. Why do you ask?"
"Because you have skinny arms and a big belly, just like those kids from Africa," Katie said, with wonderful innocence. "Miss Canaday told us they were all starving to death too, just like you." William eyes shifted away from Greg's face in a hurry. He saw his son suck in his cheeks and bite down, and Will then turned away to "study" the art better. Talitha, with a surprised look of pleasure on her face did the same.
William suddenly realized that if Katie and Talitha kept this up, the family might never be invited back over for dinner.
Interesting.
He turned back to Greg with a slight smile on his lips.
"Well, I'm not starving exactly," Greg said, stating the obvious with precision. "It's really a figure of speech."
"What's a fig...?" Katie began, but Gayle was smooth, practiced at dealing with Katie, and cut her off before more damage occurred.
"It's just a saying, dear. Henny, I love what you've done with the place. Do you mind showing me the kitchen? Ours is a bit of a disappointment."
"I'd love too," Henny replied. William noticed, with a slight dampening of his spirits, that Henny was not unhappy with Katie's question at all. She had a small smile on her face and there was a hint of nastiness to it directed at Greg.
Henny commenced to act as their tour guide, but instead of heading to the kitchen, she went directly up stairs. With the only other choice being to stay behind and talking to Greg, everyone trooped up after Henny, following her about the house.
She pointed out different features of the home and who painted what picture and what country a certain piece of furniture came from. The family room, an exact replica in size and shape as the Jern's, had been styled using a safari theme. The walls were adorned with the heads of a number of creatures, including a goat's head. He had seen this before, in other homes and had wondered how much sport there was to hunting goats?
He did like the full body of a bobcat that was positioned in mid-spring, just to the right of the doorway. It looked wonderfully life-like and Katie eyed it eagerly.
"Can I please pet the little lion, Mrs. Harris?" she asked as sweetly as she could.
"You'd better not, dear. He's cranky today." Henny reached out and held Katie's hand, just in case. The carpeting of the room was in a cream that matched the walls and the two larger pieces of furniture were wicker, with a brown and white pattern, while the two smaller chairs were covered in Leopard print. The room had an odd museum quality to it and William was sure it was rarely used.
&
nbsp; Henny was especially interested in showing off the small room just to the right of the master bedroom. She had turned it into a combination dressing room and makeup room. One of the walls hung completely covered over, ceiling to floor, with a tremendous mirror. Another wall held a long bench that one would normally see in a dressing room at a Broadway theater. There were three stations for applying makeup or styling hair, each with triple mirrors and intense lighting.
"Talitha. Come in, please," Henny said with excitement.
Talitha had been lurking in the rear of the group for most of the short tour. Henny went to her and grasping her hand brought Talitha full into the room. "This will be fun," Henny stated. "Sit in this chair." She gave Talitha the smallest shove toward the middle station.
When Talitha had seated herself, Henny flicked on the bright lights and the girl blinked in surprise. The three mirrors showed off her pretty face each from slightly different angles.
Henny stared into the mirrors at her, but Talitha, never one who felt the need to glance into a mirror every time an opportunity presented itself, examined the make-up station to her right instead, it seemed to have every color of lipstick invented, lined up in neat little compartments. Henny put both hands on Talitha's cheeks and physically pointed her head straight forward so that Talitha had to look at her own face.
"Hmmm," Henny considered for a moment and then reached down and picked up the only item at the station. It was a new hairbrush, she gave it a quick look, and without asking permission she proceeded to brush out Talitha's thick brown hair.
The Trilogy of the Void: The Complete Boxed Set Page 11
