by Nicholas
Wade didn’t like to be rushed with these matters. Of course he wanted to ask Kelly out. What guy his age in their right mind wouldn’t? A fool, that was for sure. A damn fool. But Wade was no damn fool; he just need time. Tommy and Brady both just couldn’t seem to understand that, and both of them had better chances at her than he did. Hell, plenty of girls eyed Brady every day, with his cute features. Come on, Wade, admit it. Brady was cute and ol’ Wade just wasn’t. He hated that word, CUTE. It was something girls had an affinity for. That word.
Then again, maybe he hated that word because nobody ever said that about him.
He looked at Brady, irascibly. “I don’t see you asking her out. You got the best chance.”
“You’re the jock,” Brady responded.
Yes, it was true, Wade was a jock, but buff guys in the world of jocks do not necessarily have tickets to the Game of Getting Women. Well, Wade wasn’t an unattractive jock.
“Jock itch, maybe,” Tommy jested.
Wade resented that. “Shut up, assface.”
Tommy continued, “You don’t have the guts God gave a cockroach and you know it.”
“Don’t bet on it,” Wade said back.
It was Brady’s turn. “Money talks, Wade. Bullshit walks.”
There we go: Tommy’s digging in his pocket for money again. He’s always one for bets.
Tommy slammed a ten—dollar bill down onto the service counter. “Double or nothing you won’t ask Kelly out.”
And he saw in his eyes that Wade was actually going to go through with it.
“Don’t forget,” Brady warned, “she’s Sheriff Meeker’s daughter. Remember Reed Collins?”
“Yeah,” Tommy recalled. “Meeker made Reed wear his balls for a bowtie.”
Wade was going to go through with it. He dug from his pocket a wad of bills, counted out ten ones, and placed them on the counter on top of Tommy’s ten.
“Sheriff don’t scare me,” he declared. “I’m gonna nail his little girl right in the trophy room of that big old white elephant of a house.”
“Screw you,” Tommy taunted.
And, as if to say the same, Wade walked down past the rest of the counters, turned, and advanced toward Kelly. She was still in the process of placing the batteries on the racks; she had started with the top row and worked her way to the bottom. As Wade approached she proceeded to do the bottom row, bending over, unknowingly inviting his hormones to react deliciously.
Wade slowed.
Her clothes were just tight enough, her body was sooo firm, and in all the right places.
Wade stood there, having inched his way closer. He didn’t bother to pull a glance at his friends, who were undoubtedly cracking jokes to themselves. They were just secretly jealous.
The young woman still didn’t notice him; he certainly noticed her.
He cleared his throat.
“Nice try, Wade,” she said, not looking up. Wade was stunned.
Finally, she did look up, a consoling smile across her face. Maybe she pitied him. “But the answer’s no. Sorry.”
She returned to her work as if nothing happened.
Damn!
Wade turned and proceeded sheepishly towards the service counter once again, not wanting to have to face his so—called friends. He could see them laughing; hear their tormenting remarks. Being seventeen years old and with no girlfriend certainly sucked.
Tommy, of course, was the first one to speak. “You really nailed her.”
“The timing was primo, man,” Brady added. Wade resented that. “Shut up.”
Just then, Brady spotted something beyond Tommy, who was beginning to bicker with Wade about who actually got the bet money. I did ask her, you idiot, Wade would say; but you didn’t get anywhere, would be Tommy’s reply.
But Brady was beyond them now, and he gave a look of surprise as his met Rachel’s coy smile. She had entered the store with her foster sister, Jamie.
“I thought I was picking you up?” he said.
Rachel told him casually, “Jamie needs a Halloween costume.”
“End of aisle A,” Brady directed. “Those are the best in the store. Actually, just about the best in any store here.”
Jamie tugged at Rachel’s belt. “Come look with me, Rachel.”
“In a second,” Rachel told her. Then she said to Brady, bluntly, “We have to talk.”
“Sure,” Brady blinked. “About what?”
Brady and Rachel separated themselves from Jamie, and Jamie took this as a hint to go look at the costumes by herself. Actually, she’d much rather prefer Rachel’s company, but she was delighted just the same to get to where she wanted, passing Wade and Tommy who were adjourning to the magazine racks, past rows of bagged candy and boxed chocolate bars; she turned to the aisle over which hung a large red “A”, and entered. There they were, to the left and to the right of her, oodles upon oodles of them: Halloween costumes and cool stuff of the celebrated season.
Tons of it. Loads of it. Masks and capes and clown noses and clown wigs. Cardboard skeletons, vampire teeth and tubes of fake vampire blood, rubber witches on brooms, and, as she walked further on, there were entire outfits with colorful arrangements of plastic masks with rubber bands, latex head huggers and thin, plastic body suits.
***
Brady led Rachel to an aisle on the far side of the store where there were no customers or employees, and it was there they commenced with whatever conversation Rachel was going to begin.
Instead of conversation, Brady slowly pulled Rachel close and into a tender kiss; warm, compassionate. And she accepted this kiss fully, embracing. But this was no time to remain passionate. Not now. Rachel broke away.
Brady knew what was to happen next. “It’s about tonight.”
It was time to talk, regretfully.
“My parents’ babysitter cancelled,” she admitted, not wanting to.
“So?”
“So, I have to watch Jamie tonight.”
Now he was upset. “And you’re just telling me now. Christ, it’s after five o’clock! Why in the hell didn’t you call earlier?”
Rachel was upset right along with him, knowing he would be this way. But, unlike him, she held it all in. Or, at least, she tried to. “Don’t get angry.”
“I’m not angry!” he half-yelled. Then, finally, he did manage to compose himself. “Why don’t I come over after Jamie goes to bed?”
“My parents won’t be home.”
“Good.”
After a moment, after Rachel had time to swallow this idea, she became tense, uncomfortable. “I don’t know, Brady. My parents ”
Exhaling frustration, Brady turned to get back to whatever work he was doing. As he did so, he spotted Kelly at the end of the aisle. She’d been watching them, maybe even listening, and offered him an alluring smile before she disappeared down the way. Just then, something echoed through his mind; something Wade had said.
I don’t see you asking her out. You got the best chance.
No. There was Rachel.
But you got the best chance
But then, perhaps by his will, the voice faded.
***
Jamie stood at the rack of costumes, looking each one over carefully. Well, almost each one; there were so many.
There, she thought, this one.....I like this one.
Beyond the wolf man, between the Casper and the Ronald Reagan, was a clown outfit. She pulled it out.
There was something interesting about this particular clown suit; something reminiscent.
Something vaguely familiar. It was red on one side and silvery white on the other, pompom-like buttons trailing down the middle and voluminous, white nylon ruffles about the collar. Removing it from its hanger, she looked around for a mirror. There was one down the way near the wall. She walked up to it and stood there, holding the costume out before her at first, admiring it.
“Rachel,” she called out, “I found the perfect costume. Come see.”
Sh
e held the clown costume up to herself and gazed into the mirror, imagining how nice it would be, how splendid it would look when she wore it. Then Kyle and the other kids wouldn’t talk; they would see how wonderful her new clown costume was, and they wouldn’t say anything. They would just leave her alone, for once. Perhaps they wouldn’t even recognize her in this outfit, partly because they wouldn’t even expect her to be wearing one, so they wouldn’t mention Uncle Michael, too. They wouldn’t say anything about
Oh my God.
Her reflection in the mirror had changed. What this an illusion? Yes; now it was gone. She thought for a moment that she was no longer gazing into the mirror at herself. It was the image of a boy a boy wearing her clown costume. He had a knife, a butcher knife, and he he was grinning back at her, grinning mindlessly, as if there were no real thoughts behind that grin; as if the grinning were only a reflex from the evil….
Startled, Jamie blinked and stepped away from the mirror, unbelieving. Alarmed, she turned and began to run, but the legs of the shape she thudded into made her halt. She gazed up to his face at the precise moment the dark figure slipped a pasty white Halloween mask over his features.
She was stunned, and for a second her mind was having difficulty perceiving. “Uncle Michael?”
Silently tilting his head downwards, the shape’s bulky hands came together and started for her. Once again she turned, slamming head-first into the mirror behind her. The mirror shattered, perhaps knocking her senses back into reality, a reality where she knew this was actually happening, that somehow, by some means she knew only within the boundaries of nightmares, her uncle was truly there and was truly attempting to take her life. She screamed. Splintered shards crashed and spun across the hard tile floor, and she nearly slipped on them; and had she attempted to run any further she most likely would have, except she now saw Rachel and Brady. They were running up to her from the other end of the aisle. She hadn’t realized it just then, but she hadn’t seen Rachel ever look so seriously worried.
The two ran for each other, Rachel knocking over a rack of children’s books in the process. Rachel grabbed her foster sister and held her close, feeling her tremble in her arms.
“Jamie,” she said, “what happened?”
Jamie began to sob weakly. “It was the nightmare man.”
“What?”
“He’s…….he’s come to get me, Rachel.”
Brady stood there, not knowing what to do. He was soon joined by his two friends, who gazed around at the shattered glass.
“Shhhhh,” Rachel consoled her. “You’re okay. You probably saw a mask and it scared you. At least you’re not cut.” She double—checked Jamie’s features to make sure. Then, satisfied, “Come on, let’s go home.”
“You said ice cream,” Jamie said, rubbing her eyes innocently.
“Ice cream,” she remembered, “I didn’t forget.” “Busted mirror,” Wade commented. “Seven years bad luck.”
“Shut up, butthead,” Tommy said.
And as they began to escort the two girls out to the front of the store, none of them saw the shape, his reflections staring blankly from the dozens of shards of glass amidst the masks and some stray children’s books.
***
“Better?” Rachel asked Jamie.
“Yeah.”
The sun prepared to set upon the two girls strolling down the sidewalk; they each carried double- scoop cones of ice cream, their long shadows accompanying them as they went.
“Ready for tonight? Rachel said.
Jamie smiled expectantly. “I’ll get lots of candy?”
“Lots,” she answered. “But let Mom go through it first. Sometimes people play mean tricks on kids.” “Your mom’s real nice, Rachel.”
“She’s your mom, too. And pretty soon, who knows, maybe my parents’ll make it legal.”
Casually and happily, Jamie continued to lick her cone until she caught sight of something ahead suddenly, and she froze in her tracks.
Up at the end of the block, standing partially within the shade of the tree on the front lawn of the corner house, was the Shape, the dark man; the one she ran into unexpectedly at the Discount Mart. The one she didn’t quite frankly want to run into ever again.
It was the nightmare man.
It was Uncle Michael.
Rachel turned and looked at her. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s him,” Jamie all but whispered.
Rachel was confused. “Who?”
She turned only to see an empty distant shadow beside the corner house. At least, that was where Jamie seemed to be casting her fearful gaze. Rachel looked around; there were only a few children Jamie’s age walking on the opposite side of the street, and a Plymouth passed them by.
Nothing more.
“The nightmare man,” Jamie answered, still staring. There was this distant, far-away stare deep within her eyes, as if she were entranced; Rachel also noticed a certain shade of terror within that look. Or was it momentary shock? Regardless, Rachel was concerned. “He was next to that house.”
There was no one there now.
“I’ll go look, okay?” Rachel told her, to which the little girl didn’t at first reply.
Then, as Rachel proceeded to walk over to the shadows, Jamie cried out diffidently, “Rachel. Don’t.”
But Rachel continued; and as she did so, she stepped around the edge of the corner house and out of view.
Long seconds passed; too long for Jamie. Her worry ached within her, growing into an irrepressible panic.
Now, Rachel had joined the shape’s absence. “Rachel?” Jamie called out.
Nothing.
“Rachel!” she repeated, yelling.
Her ice cream cone slipped from her fingers and dropped upside down on the sidewalk. She ran--- ran to the front lawn of the house at the corner, ran right through the shade of the tree, crushing multitudinous fallen leaves, stamping through a wide river of water formed by a water hose stretched across the darkened grass---ran until she arrived at the other side.
No Rachel.
There was a white wooden fence that ran along the edge of the house until it gave way to a separate wall crawling with English ivy. She again called out for her foster sister.
“Rachel, are you all right?”
And around the other side of the ivy covered wall, a middle-aged German Shepherd, startled, began to lunge at her; held back only by the length of its chain. Jamie jumped backwards as the dog barked and snarled backed right up into a figure.
She screamed.
“No nightmare man,” Rachel told her. “Just your imagination.”
Chapter Twelve
Twilight rose with the new moon and cast its dim light upon the first evening trick—or—treaters on their quest for the very things their mothers had always said would make their teeth fall out. At times, one could see some of these very mothers accompanying their children out on the night time sidewalks, but for the most part, a majority of the children’s overseers were fathers or big brothers and sisters.
The tranquil silence of Autumn gave way to an evening of festivity, a tradition the likes of which Haddonfield, along with the rest of the country, had seen year after anticipated year. Actually, however, no one really anticipated Halloween; at least not as much as most other holidays. Halloween just arrived. Sure, as the days grew closer to October 31st, the children grew more excited and the parents made ready the costumes and the churches began to spread flyers about their Fall festivals and hay rides, but it just seemed to come natural. Not like Christmas, surrounded by all the hustle and bustle of shopping and tree decorating and whatnot. Then again, Halloween, when it finally arrived, did have its own, very unique magical properties as do all holidays. Tonight was no exception to that magic.
But sometimes that magic can be deadly.
He was watching. He was watching those children, watching as they strode from house to house with their plastic bags or papers bags or plastic jack-olanterns. He saw ho
w protecting their guardians were; their mothers or fathers, friends or relatives making sure they got their kids back from each stop, keeping them all out of trouble.
They did not see him; he stood perfectly still, like the Caruthers’ willow tree beside him. If anyone did see him, they must have paid no attention to him. It was Halloween, and strange sights or absurdities were overlooked tonight. Besides, how absurd can a simple man in a mask standing beside a tree be? But standing within the shadows as he was, one terrible aspect was certain: he could see them better than they could see him.
He was no longer beneath the willow. He reappeared now beside the Caruthers’ kitchen window, gazing inside, upon the teenage girl clearing a table full of the evening’s dinner dishes. And there was the little girl; she was helping the older one by stacking the rinsed plates inside the dishwasher.
Darlene and Richard entered the kitchen, and Rachel was the first one to see them garbed in their party outfits. They looked splendid, Rachel thought.....Dad in his tux and Mom in pink and white ruffled froufrou dress. They appeared elegant together, and the by the look in Jamie’s eyes as she turned also, she agreed. Now, to Rachel, they would look even more elegant out the door.
“All right,” Darlene told them both, “we’re leaving. How do we look?”
“Elegant,” Rachel said. “You guys always look great.”
“We’ll be at the Fallbrooks,” her mother told her. “The number is next to the phone.”
Rachel hated this part of babysitting……..the beginning lecture. “I know. Next to that is the Police, hospital, fire, and probably the National Guard.”
The last of the dishes within the dishwasher, Jamie accompanied her foster family to the front door, and Mr. and Mrs. Caruthers exchanged her kisses. Then she darted up the staircase to where a clown costume was waiting for her in her bedroom.
“Have a good time tonight, you two,” Richard told them as Jamie disappeared. Then, to Rachel, “Make sure Jamie’s in bed by nine—thirty. No later.”
