“You call me the minute you’re back on the road.”
“OK.” Lenny snapped the phone shut and tossed it on the kitchen table.
The rain continued to fall. But it washed nothing clean.
* * * *
Lenny grabbed his small case of toiletries and stepped into the bathroom. He moved cautiously, stopping just inside the doorway and leaning in until his face appeared in the mirror over the sink. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He still looked tired, his face pale and eyes saddled with dark bags. “What the hell did you expect to see?” he asked himself. Without bothering to answer, Lenny turned the water on in the sink, splashed his face then toweled off and again considered not only his image, but all else reflected in the mirror as well. Eventually, he turned away.
After a lengthy pee and a quick brush of his teeth, he returned to the kitchen. Fear came with him. He couldn’t shake it.
Still, he couldn’t walk away, not yet. He decided to make one more stop before going to town to find the real estate agent. Something horrible had taken place here, and the only person he could turn to was Meredith Kemp. If any additional information existed regarding what Sheena had experienced in the days leading up to her death, Meredith was most likely in possession of it.
Determined to be gone before sundown, he threw on his coat and headed out into the icy downpour.
* * * *
Lenny walked across the yard, his eyes moving constantly, taking in as much of the tree line as he could. Again, that feeling of being watched assaulted him, but there were no signs of ax-wielding maniacs or angry ghosts, just a whole lot of rain gushing from a charcoal-gray sky.
He reached the path behind the garage Meredith had mentioned and stood at its mouth tentatively, watching the sleet spatter and drip between the trees as sparse hints of light peeked through the otherwise thick, shadowy forest.
As Lenny stepped into the woods, Sheena’s notes returned to him.
It was believed other worlds existed within mirrors.
He tried to dismiss such a ridiculous concept, but any attempts to deflect it resulted in the return of residual memories from his nightmares, flashes of horror and disturbing imagery playing out before his eyes on an endless loop.
Through certain black magic rituals these worlds could be awakened.
Had she performed such rituals, alone in that house or while walking these very woods?
Once this alternate world and the creatures residing within it came to life, it was believed they could pass through the mirror from their world to ours.
It seemed laughable, the Sheena he’d known doing something like that.
I never meant for this to happen.
Why would she even try such things?
Maybe she’d come here just like Kinney had suggested, for some peace and quiet and to mourn the death of her husband in private. But something had happened to her here, something had broken in her that led her to the mirror, to seek what might lie beyond it. Had she tried practicing some of the ancient spells reprinted in that book then somehow convinced herself they had actually worked?
I don’t think I can stop it.
“It all got away from you too, didn’t it?” he mumbled, hands stuffed deep into his coat pockets but clenched into fists.
He walked on, following the path and looking behind him every now and then to make certain no one was tailing him. But for the constant motion of the rain, the forest was quiet. He looked up, blinked away the heavy drops and saw the trees towering over him and the dull sky above. He wondered how many times Sheena had made this same walk. Had she thought about him, about them? Had she replayed the past and let loose its malevolent spirits while traversing this lonely stretch of woodland? Were those demons still here, lying in wait and watching for him even now?
A weekend away from school…a getaway to a small village on Cape Cod…off-season…no longer quite winter but not yet spring…a cheap and rundown beachside motel…a desolate stretch of sand and grassy dunes…a nearly abandoned town, its tourist traps closed and boarded up…only a few locals, and a handful of transients...
Afternoon…he remembers it was late afternoon.
They lie together on the inexpensive mattress, her naked body draped across his. He lights a cigarette and assumes Sheena’s sleeping, until he notices the delicate rhythm of her breath. Uneven, he can feel it softly brushing his skin, filtering through the hair on his chest with each exhale. She’s awake but feigning sleep, preferring instead to keep her head on his chest and her arms wrapped tightly around him in silence. The ramshackle room is small but relatively clean. An old television is bolted to the wall, the furniture is cheesy and nautical-themed, mostly decrepit pressboard, and the soiled carpet is industrial grade. It is all Lenny can afford. Somehow it’s been enough for them, a chance to leave school and the apartment and their other friends, to truly be alone and away from it all. They left the city deciding on Cape Cod and wound up here, in this awful little seaside dump, a place neither have been to before or are familiar with. He and Sheena have never been anywhere together. This is their first road trip as a couple.
It will also be their last.
Neither of them knows then, on that quiet and lazy afternoon, that their relationship only has a matter of hours to live, and that soon, they will never see each other again. Their lives will split into divergent paths, always separate but forever connected by those horrible things awaiting them as night slowly approaches, rolling in across the Atlantic Ocean, bringing with it armaments of destiny, steel hammers of fate that cannot be avoided, prevented or forgotten. Already bound by blood and tears that have not yet flowed, they are oblivious to the coming storm and all it has in store for them, characters playing out scenes already written, with endings already decided.
At least this is what Lenny convinces himself to believe…if not now, then.
“The school year ends in a couple months,” Sheena says suddenly.
He strokes her hair with his free hand. “So?”
“What happens then?”
“We go home.”
“No,” she sighs, “seriously.”
“We live an hour away from each other, what’s the problem?”
“Will we keep seeing each other?”
He blows a stream of smoke at the ceiling. “Sure, why not?”
She is quiet for a while. “Have you decided about next year?”
“No.”
“So you might still quit and just take off to New York?”
“Yes,” he snaps. “Christ, how many times are you going to ask me that?”
Sheena raises her head and rests her chin on his breastbone. “I’m just talking to you, Lenny. Can’t we talk without you getting upset?”
“Doesn’t sound like talking. Sounds like an interrogation.”
“I’m not interrogating you.”
“Well that’s what it feels like, and I’m getting tired of it, OK?” He takes an angry drag on his cigarette and brushes perspiration-soaked hair back and off his forehead. “Can’t we ever just hang out and enjoy the moment? Why do you always have to start questioning me about everything? I don’t know what the future holds, nobody does. Live for today, we could both be dead tomorrow.”
“Don’t say that.”
“We’re having a nice day so far, aren’t we?”
She nods, albeit reluctantly.
“Then why ruin it?”
“I wasn’t trying to ruin it.” She rolls away and off of him.
“And don’t pout, come on.” He looks over at her lying next to him on her back, her arms atop one another and resting across her forehead. “Let’s take a shower in a little while, go out and find somewhere to eat then walk the beach if it’s not too cold. Sound good?”
She shrugs.
“What? What is it now?”
All he hears is their breathing. He smokes his cigarette in silence.
“Don’t you care about me at all?” she finally asks.
“
Not this bullshit again.”
“It’s not bullshit.” She rolls onto her side, facing him. “Don’t call my feelings bullshit.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Wasn’t I upfront right from the beginning? This isn’t supposed to be about feelings. I made that clear the day we met and now every time we’re together you start with this.”
“Oh you made it clear, OK.”
“Well didn’t I?”
She gives a sullen nod.
“Don’t do that—why—why do you do that? Stand up for yourself.”
“When I do it makes you angry, and when I don’t it makes you angry.”
“You know what?” Lenny crushes the remains of his cigarette in an ashtray and flops back down on the bed, hands behind his head. “I don’t need this shit, I really don’t.”
“Listen to yourself. You’re mad at me because I care about you.”
“I’m mad because you’re using it to manipulate me.”
“Don’t I mean anything to you?”
“Yes, but—I can’t—God, what do you want from me?”
She looks at him. “I want you to love me.”
“Maybe in my own fucked up and obviously inadequate way I do, OK?”
“Then why can’t you be a man and just be with me?”
“I’m nineteen-fucking-years-old, Sheena. We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us. What do you expect me to do, marry you?”
“What do you expect me to do?”
“See, that’s just it, baby. I don’t expect anything from you.”
The roar of motorcycles outside shatters the silence. As they roll past the entire motel shakes. Lenny gets up, goes to the window, and pulls the curtain back enough to peek out. Three grungy biker types ride by on Harleys. He watches as they disappear around the bend in the road then he releases the curtain and wanders back into the room. The rumble of motorcycles softens and fades, the intrusion gone.
“I just don’t see why if we care about each other we can’t be together.”
“We are together.”
“For now.”
“Yes, for now. That’s the best I can do.”
“What if that’s not good enough?”
“Then it’s not good enough,” he says evenly. “And I walk.”
“Just like that?”
“What are you gonna do? You gonna leave school if I do, turn your nose up at a degree so you can follow me around, live in some dump in New York and wait tables? Don’t be stupid.” He paces about, unsure what to do with himself. “You can’t live your life on a whim, Sheena.”
“I don’t consider us a whim.”
“You deserve better than me, and you’ll get it, you’re a great person. I’m not right for you, and deep down you know that.”
She shakes her head hopelessly and sits up, slumped over on the edge of the bed. “You have a future. I don’t.”
“Why do you say that? Why do you belittle yourself like that? You’re smart, you’re talented, you’re pretty and—”
“I’m not pretty,” she says, spitting the word out at the carpet.
He comes closer and crouches down next to her. “Yes you are. You’re just scared about what’ll happen if I’m not around. You see me, someone who has a plan—or at least acts like he does—and you think if maybe you come along for the ride then you’ll have some sort of direction in your life too. But you can’t hitch a ride on my life, Sheena. You have your own. Think about it. If you really wanted this, would you be on birth control? No, you wouldn’t give a shit. But you are, because neither one of us wants little Lennys and Sheenas running around. So we take precautions. You take the pill.”
“You say it like it’s a horrible thing,” she says. “Would it be so awful to have little Lennys and Sheenas running around?”
“Are you out of your mind? It’d be a fucking catastrophe. I have plans. I want to chase my dreams—mine—not yours or anyone else’s. Mine. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do at our age? I don’t want to be tied down with a serious relationship, much less a child. Why do I have to apologize for that? What’s wrong with you?”
She opens her mouth as if to say something, but nothing emerges.
“Holy shit…you are on the pill, right?”
Sheena looks away.
He stands, though he’s not certain his legs will hold him. “Don’t fucking do this to me, don’t—you—I asked you the first time we—you told me you were on the pill, you said there was nothing to worry about.”
She falls back onto the bed and buries her face in the pillow.
“We’ve been having unprotected sex for months?” He puts his hands on either side of his head. “Oh Jesus Christ are you pregnant?”
“What if I was?” she screams. “Would it matter?”
“Answer me. Are you fucking pregnant?”
“No!”
“How do I know if you’re telling the truth?”
Something in her dies just then. “You don’t.”
Lenny gathers his clothes and begins to dress.
“What are you doing?”
He steps into his jeans, throws on his shirt and hastily stumbles toward the door. “I’m going out. I need some air.”
“You can’t just leave me here alone.”
“Lock the door behind me, you’ll be fine. We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“When are you coming back?”
He yanks open the door, steps into the fresh sea air. “Later.”
Lenny wants to look back at her when he remembers. He wants to turn around and go to her, to hold her and tell her he’s sorry and that everything will be all right. But he doesn’t. He walks out of the room and slams the door behind him without uttering a word.
The past dissolved. He quickened his pace and hurried on through the forest. As he reached an incline, he walked over it and across a huge gnarled root that stuck out of the ground like the contorted and mangled spine of some ancient, long-dead creature. And there, just yards away, he saw the end of the line. The woods gave way to a lot and a literal log cabin, a slow and steady stream of smoke billowing from its chimney. Parked out front was a small pickup.
Lenny had emerged from the forest but hadn’t quite reached the door when it opened a crack and Meredith Kemp stepped into view. In her hands was an enormous shotgun. The look on her face left little doubt as to her ability and perhaps willingness to use such a weapon if need be.
“It’s just me,” he said, raising his hands like the victim of a stickup.
She lowered the weapon and leaned against the doorframe, the shotgun down at her side. “Sorry, can’t be too careful. I’m all alone out here.”
“What about Marley?”
“He’s great if I need him to lick somebody to death. Otherwise, I’m pretty much on my own.” She opened the door wide and stepped back. “Figured you’d come, just wasn’t sure you’d be in time.”
Lenny moved up her steps. “In time for what?”
As he joined her inside he had his answer. Several boxes and a suitcase were packed and sitting just inside the door. The house had been broken down and was mostly barren, though a few essentials were still in place. “Not going to be here much longer,” she told him.
“You’re moving?”
She nodded, helped him off with his coat and hung it on a hook a few feet from the door. “It’s time to go.”
“Any chance I could get that cup of coffee you offered yesterday? Haven’t had any yet this morning, and I really need to clear my head.”
“Sure, come on.” She escorted him deeper into the cabin. The house had a completely open floor plan, with a small kitchen, bathroom and den downstairs, and a loft bedroom up that overlooked the front of the house. As they crossed into the kitchen, Meredith motioned to an island with two stools.
Marley was lying on the floor over by a bowl and water dish. He looked up at Lenny and his big tail began to wag, slapping the floor with a steady thud.
“Hey buddy,” L
enny smiled, sliding onto a stool.
“He’s guarding his dishes,” Meredith explained, moving to a coffeemaker on the counter. “Since I started packing he hasn’t let them or his favorite tennis ball out of his sight.”
“Can’t blame him there.” He looked around without being too obvious. Meredith’s living space struck him as the sort of home that was sparse even when she was settled in. It had the feel a lot of apartments in the city had: a transitory aura that signaled the occupant could at any time gather his or her few belongings and easily move on. “So where are you headed?”
“Thinking about going somewhere warmer for a while. Maybe the desert. Always wanted to see Arizona. I don’t stay anywhere too long anymore, and I’ve been here a few years now. Time to move on. It’s a no-lease rental so I can just pick up and go.” She rinsed two mugs out that were already in the sink and dried them with a hand towel hanging from a bar on the refrigerator door. “See, I’m one of those women who got married young and worked three jobs to put my husband through medical school. When he got out he decided he’d rather be married to one of the doctors he was working with, so he divorced me. I went out, got myself a shark lawyer and turned him loose on the sonofabitch. I made a decent chunk of change in the settlement, invested it wisely and eventually wound up with enough ahead of me to do whatever the hell I want. I’m not a millionaire or anything, but if I live reasonably I don’t have to work unless I want to.”
“What made you come here?”
“Same thing that drew Sheena to this town. Seemed a nice place to hide.”
“Sounds like an isolated life.”
“It is.”
“Don’t like people much?”
“Most of them I could live without.” She poured coffee into the mugs. “Speaking of which, I heard you had some trouble with Gus Gauvin yesterday.”
“How did you know?”
“I have a police scanner. It’s packed now but I heard the call go out. How do you take your coffee?”
“Black, no sugar.”
She brought him his mug then returned to the refrigerator, added some milk to hers and joined him at the island, standing and leaning across from him rather than taking the other stool. Meredith looked considerably more tired than she had the other day, as if she too had not slept well. “Gus is just scared. He gets confused sometimes. He’s been through a lot.”
Judas Goat Page 9
