Jacob moved up to her. He straightened his penis out in front of him. With the salty taste of blood in his mouth, he prepared to fuck Sonnie.
His left hand holding his penis down, Jacob reached with his right hand to the old teakettle that Sonnie had lifted from the burner moments earlier.
The phone rang and Jacob felt it flow from him. As quickly as he had been transformed into something else, he was transformed back to what he was before. He reached for his pants.
“Sonnie.”
She didn’t move.
“Sonnie. The phone.”
This time she moved her head a little. Then she slowly rose up. She pulled up her bottoms. She turned but did not look at him. Jacob watched as her face changed. She went from amorous to inquisitive.
“Sonnie. Get the phone!”
She looked at him. “Jacob. I felt it. I was mad at you. I wanted you to leave. But then I just wanted nothing but to do what you wanted me to. I felt it.”
“I know, Sonnie.”
“Jacob it was so powerful.”
The phone continued to ring in the background.
“Are you going to get that?”
“I had no defense.”
“Sonnie. It’s rung several times. It must be important.”
“Jacob you had control over me. You can control people.”
“I never wanted to control anybody. Just get the phone. Please!”
“Jacob.” She stopped and just stared at him.
“What? Aren’t you going to answer the freaking phone?”
“Jacob. The phone’s not ringing.”
The pause seemed very long. Jacob had time to go through the initial confusion, wondering what Sonnie was talking about. He had time to remember that a phone that only he could hear was not so out of place in the world that he was experiencing lately. And he had time to wonder if it would ring again. It did.
“You can’t hear that?”
“No. I don’t hear a thing. Is it coming from down stairs?”
Jacob looked at her face. There was no disbelief there, only fear.
“No, it’s your phone. The one right there on the wall, loud and clear. And I know who it is?”
“Who?”
“Who do you think?”
Sonnie spoke but he could no longer hear her. He couldn’t hear her because the ringing grew louder. It continued to grow with each new tone. Sonnie continued to talk, but none of it got through.
“I can’t hear you,” Jacob said, and Sonnie seemed to understand.
She mouthed the words slowly, and he read her lips.
“Are you going to answer it?”
Jacob shook his head, but he was not sure. He didn’t want to answer it, but the ringing was starting to hurt. He resisted for as long as he could, but soon answering it was all he could do.
Jacob picked up the receiver, and the ringing was gone. Not even the afterthought of the sound was there. In fact, there was only a dial tone.
“Who is it?”
“Nobody. It’s just the dial tone. Wait!”
“What?”
“I thought I heard something. Shh.”
He waited for a few seconds. The sound came back.
“There it is again.”
“What?” Sonnie whispered.
“I don’t know, but I think it’s somebody whispering.”
The next time the noise came back it did so repeatedly, and it was louder, competing with the sound of the dial tone.
“Ya. Ya. Ya. Ya.”
“Jacob, who is it?”
The noise faded out.
“Somebody is whispering to me. But I can’t understand what they’re saying.”
The dial tone went away, and suddenly there was a loud clear voice on the line.
“No or not enough digits dialed. Please hang up and try your call again. No or not enough digits dialed. Please hang up and try your call again. No or not . . .”
Jacob continued to wait, but this time the whispering did not return. He hung up the line.
“I have to go.”
“Why?”
He looked at her, astonished. “What do you mean, why? Sonnie I almost . . .”
He stopped himself. She hadn’t seen him go for the teakettle. At least, he didn’t think she had.
Sonnie looked down for a moment. “I don’t think it matters.”
“How could it not matter?”
She smiled. “You don’t even know how powerful it is, do you? Jacob, you could have killed me if you wanted to. You could have killed me slowly, and I would have stood there content, as long as that was what you wanted.”
“Which is exactly why I think I should be away from you.”
She shook her head, like she was trying to explain something to a child. “Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter. He, or whatever controls this, is not going to let you harm me. At least, not directly.”
“Why?”
“Why? For the same reason you didn’t harm the others directly.”
“Why’s that?”
She put her arms around his waist. “Because that would be traceable. You would be traceable. And that would make you culpable.”
Jacob looked down at her face for a moment and then looked away. “So maybe I won’t kill you. But I’ll still hurt you.”
“No you won’t.”
Jacob wanted to believe her. “How do you know that?”
“Because. Remember what you told me about the vision where you saw Todd? How when you went to attack that man, he took control of you. I think that’s what it just did. It wanted to show you it could control you. It wanted to show you how it controls other people through you.”
“And it will make me like that again.”
“No! It’s done now. Now you know!”
She pulled him tighter. He wondered if she believed what she was saying or if she needed to believe what she was saying. But he didn’t want to disappoint her.
“That’s it, Sonnie. I think you’re right. That feels right.”
“Good.”
“But I do want to go for a while.”
“Why?”
“Because I feel kind of awkward.”
She sighed. “Will you be back?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” She let him go.
Jacob walked out with what she had said on his mind. It made sense. It made complete sense. But still, he thought it could be wrong. At least, part of it could be wrong. Something had stopped him from killing Sonnie. This, he was sure of. But the things he had done to her, and what he wanted to do to her. He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t think there was anything outside of him that created these things, these urges. He thought they might have been his.
#
Not knowing where he wanted to go, Jacob backed out of the lot and headed south until he came to the end of Main Street. There was just a flash of the memory of first seeing Todd’s ghost there two days earlier. It seemed like so long ago.
He turned left and drove up to the highway. There, he turned right. In the back of his mind, he could feel the new urges. They were not unlike the urges that had come to him when he first started having the visions—a few moments after he pulled the gun from his chin. The only difference was he knew what he urged for now. He craved death, and not his own either.
Jacob wondered if that was what he had wanted all along. Maybe he hadn’t been ready to accept that, so his mind just held that part from him.
That’s it, Jacob. Your mind gave you a vague urge because you just couldn’t believe the truth. You’re a blood thirsty killer.
Jacob laughed, only to hate the thought of it. He turned on the radio and cranked it as loud as it would go. He rode that way for a long time, the urges seeming to ebb and flow, depending on what song was on the radio. After about sixty miles, he began to think about what he was doing again. He made up his mind that he would just keep going south. He thought that, if these urges were in fact going to take him over—and now he felt like th
ey would—at least he would be away from the few people whom he might have once remotely cared about.
He was almost to Oklahoma City, when the four lanes turned into one and the cement into red dirt.
#
It’s the epitome of a dirt road. There is no shale buried in or on the outside. Huge pits and groves remain where larger vehicles have passed on rainier days. The surrounding fields are lined with brush. Though there is nothing blocking the view for miles, there are no signs of a distant town in any direction. Jacob’s car seems to glide over the top of the road, not reacting to the grooves or pits. Up ahead, he sees a house. He knows this is where he needs to go, because it is the only place around.
He stops at the front of the driveway and gets out of the car. The roof of the house looks flimsy and the outside is stained with an eternity of dust. The place would seem unlivable if not for the old man and the big black dog on the front porch. Jacob approaches them.
“Hello.”
Neither the man nor the dog responds.
“Just checking.”
Jacob steps on the porch and sits beside them. The old man sits in a rocking chair. His tan face is wrinkled, and in those wrinkles is some kind of white powder. When he rocks back, the splintered porch floor creaks. When he rocks forward, the chair creaks. In one hand is a half-empty bottle of Jim Beam. With the other hand he strokes the matted fur of the sleeping black dog.
The old man’s eyes move toward a rather large piece of brush near the edge of the front yard. Jacob follows his stare and sees the fat rattle snake come slithering out of that brush. It stops and stretches out in the sun.
“Petie!” the old man shouts through a blocked throat. “Get on out here! Grandpa wants you to see Sam play with the snake.”
The black dog’s ears prop up, and it comes to life. The old man spills some of the whiskey as he wraps his arms around the dog.
“Easy old girl. It won’t get too far.”
The dog whines as it’s restrained. It darts out a little, pulling the old man’s rocker forward, causing him to spill even more whiskey.
“Damn it, Sam. I told you to hold your horses. I want Petie to see the show.”
The dog obediently kneels down, her eyes never leaving the green creature a few feet away from them.
“Now Petie, you hurry yourself on up. Grandpa can’t hold her much longer.”
There is a shuffling from inside the old house. Out the front door comes a boy, maybe ten years old, dressed only in pee-stained underwear and an old pair of sneakers. Under a thin layer of dirt is the boy’s sunburned skin. He is chubby and his boobs sag. On his face is the dull expression of a mentally retarded person.
Jacob realizes immediately who this boy is. It’s Pete Stebens, the one blamed for stringing his friend from a ceiling fan.
“Grandpa, when’s my mom coming to get me?”
“Never mind that right now. Just look out there in the front yard.”
Pete looks around for a little while. Then he fixes his stare straight ahead, toward the road.
“No, Petie. Over there.” The old man holds out his hand with the bottle of whiskey still in it. Pete slowly moves his gaze around until he finally finds what his grandpa is pointing at. Then his eyes grow.
“Wow! It’s a snake!”
Pete rushes forward and so does Sam the dog. The old man catches the dog but spills his whiskey bottle in the process. For the first time since it started across the yard, the rattler seems to notice its audience. It curls up quickly, draws back its head, and sets its hissing tail end in motion.
“Now Petie, you get back here,” the old man says. “That thing will strike you deader than a rock.”
Pete stops a couple of yards from the snake. It opens its mouth, revealing deadly fangs. Pete looks back at the porch, smiling from ear to ear, seemingly indifferent to the notion of being dead.
“Come on now. You done made Grandpa spill his drink.”
Pete takes a few steps back and sits on the first step of the porch. He folds his hands in his lap and twists his fingers into each other as he watches the snake watch him.
The old man shakes his head. “Kid ain’t got the sense God gave a mule, but we’re going to give him a show anyway. Ain’t we Sam?”
Sam shakes and whines at the mention of her name. She looks back and forth from the old man to the snake.
“All right, girl. You ready?”
Sam gives out a loud bark. The rattler turns and heads back toward the bush.
“There she goes! Go get her girl!”
After being released, Sam darts forward. She catches the rattler by the tail and slings it across the yard. It lands and rolls as it curls up helplessly. Then it gathers itself and resumes fighting position. Sam comes up and meets the snake eye to eye. They hold that position, the only movement the snake’s forked tongue.
“Kill the snake, Sam!” the old man shouts, causing Pete to laugh.
The snake darts forward, and Sam moves to the side, then behind the creature. Sam grabs its tail again and flings. This time, the snake lands near Pete and turns toward him. It rears back to strike again, before Sam comes back up from behind. Sam resets the snake back to the middle of the yard.
“Kill the snake, Sam!” the old man shouts.
“Yeah Sam. Kill the snake!” Pete shouts.
The basic process is repeated several times. The snake instinctively darts forward, and Sam moves to the side and behind. Every time the snake lands, it seems to roll and reset a little slower. Its movements seem more and more just nervous reactions. The killing is near over when Jacob hears a phone ring from inside the house.
The two people on the porch with Jacob seem indifferent to the ringing. Jacob walks through the screen door and into the house. Inside the house is a mess of empty tin cans and whiskey bottles. Old furniture is covered with stains that Jacob doesn't want to know about. Red ants, cockroaches and dozens of swarming black flies compete for the bounty of spills and leftovers scattered about the place. Somewhere, a phone rings louder and louder.
Jacob looks from room to room, finding nothing but the same old neglected mess. Once all the rooms are covered, he passes through the back wall of the house. The ringing is even louder now. Jacob covers his ears but it doesn't seem to help. He notices that it’s not his ears that the ringing hurts. But he can’t identify what it is exactly. All he knows is that he wants the ringing to stop.
In the backyard is a brown shed. Jacob walks to it, and then he walks through the door. On the inside, Jacob looks into the stream of light that comes in through a hole in the back wall. It flows down to his body. Jacob sees that one of his feet has gone through a gas can and rests on the inside. Without knowing how, but knowing that he does, Jacob pulls himself from the vision.
#
Jacob came to surrounded by busy Oklahoma City traffic. With the ringing still in his ears, he hit the first exit he saw. At the edge of the exit ramp he turned right and drove to a gas station. He parked his car and looked around. On the other side of a newspaper rack, right out in front of the station, a large woman in a tank top was smoking a brown cigarette and talking on the pay phone.
Jacob stared at her intently until she caught his gaze. She made eye contact once and then looked away. She turned back toward him a few seconds later and then held her stare as she moved her lips quickly. She hung up the phone and picked up a grocery bag. She turned and looked at him one last time as she moved hastily away. When he opened his car door, she moved even faster.
Jacob went over to the phone and picked up the receiver. The ringing stopped. This time the voice was there immediately.
“Ya . . . Ya . . . Ya . . .”
It was so labored and so pathetic sounding that Jacob could barely stand it. It was just a little more bearable than the ringing. The voice continued for just a little while, constantly losing volume until it faded into a crackling sound. Jacob hung up the line.
Jacob got into his car and started back to Nesca
ta. There was still so much he wanted to know.
Chapter 10
Jacob was able to ride in peace, but only for a little while. The ringing started up again. It was distant. It grew in intensity, but it grew slowly, guiding him. It led him to Nescata, then it led him straight out of town. It led him down the same old dirt road and then up the driveway to his parents’ home. Sitting in his car, he could tell that it was coming from inside the house. He waited in his car for a few more minutes, just to see what would happen. The ringing only grew louder. Jacob went inside.
The phone sat in the little nook in the dining room. Jacob looked at the little light that flashed when the phone rang. It was still. He picked up the line.
Jacob heard two things. He heard the dial tone from the phone in his ear. And he heard the ringing that had not stopped. The ringing had only moved. It was quieter, more distant. It was now coming from the back of the house. He followed the sound back into his parents’ room. There, on the other side of the bed, was another phone. That was where the ringing had moved. Jacob crossed the room and picked up the line.
This time there was somebody there with the dial tone, but it was only breath and an occasional gasp. After a few seconds, the person went away and Jacob hung up the line. He stood there for just a moment, something vague inside of him. It was like the urge he had just before the visions, but different. It was weaker and less binding. It was from a different source.
He stood there and tried to convince himself it was real. But he wasn't sure, and he didn’t think he should try to force it.
There was a sense of disappointment, of leaving something behind, as Jacob walked out of the room, but there was also hope. If what he had just experienced was real, then there was more than one force. And maybe these forces were against each other.
#
The two women are there again. The body that had been spraying blood has slowed down now. Jacob can hear her heart fading out. But the other’s heart is loud. It has much more life. This is the one Jacob stands above.
Scribner Horror Bundle: Four Horror Novels by Joshua Scribner Page 59
