Help Wanted

by Richie Tankersley Cusick

“But you didn’t know Lillith.”

  “And did you? Really?”

  “Robin, she worked for us, right there in our house, before my mother ever died. She had lots of time to study my father, to know what he liked and didn’t, to learn just how to manipulate him. I had a lot of time to see how Lillith operated.”

  “What do you mean, she worked in your house?”

  Parker sat back and ran one hand impatiently through his hair.

  “She didn’t make enough money with that phony business of hers, so she did other jobs on the side. She used to clean our house. In fact, she used to bring Claudia to help her. Lillith got to be very good friends with my family … except for Grandfather. Lillith knew how much my mother liked flowers, so she started bringing seeds and cuttings for the garden. Lillith knew how much my father admired art, so she began doing paintings for him.”

  Parker glanced at the macabre portrait by the door.

  “After my mother died, Lillith held séances for my father. To help him make contact with my mother.” His face went grim. “He was so lost without her, he believed everything Lillith told him.”

  Robin watched the anger in Parker’s eyes. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t.

  “How … how did your mother die?” she asked gently.

  “We lived out on the ocean, but she drove into the village every Thursday to shop. It was a dangerous road—narrow with lots of steep curves—but she liked to go alone. She always said it was her thinking time.” Parker faltered for a moment. He dropped his gaze, and his voice went quiet “No one was with her when it happened—so no one will ever really know, I suppose. She must have lost control of the car somehow. She went off the road and down an incline.”

  His eyes lifted. He looked at Robin, and his voice shook ever so slightly.

  “The car landed … very far down. And burned.”

  Parker stood up. He walked slowly to the mantel, and he stared into the fireplace.

  “They said she was killed instantly but …”

  He stopped.

  He cleared his throat, and he kept his back to Robin.

  “But she must have known,” he whispered. “She must have known what was happening all the way down.…”

  Robin covered her face with her hands. She tasted tears, but as Parker turned and started back toward her, she wiped them quickly away.

  “Lillith was never like her,” Parker said, his voice growing hard. “Never good or kind. Lillith used my father, Robin. She only wanted his money. I know she didn’t love him. I know she never did.”

  Robin said nothing. She watched a range of emotions struggle over Parker’s face, and after a while she leaned toward him.

  “Parker, you and I are really talking about the same thing, aren’t we? We’re both saying that Claudia’s mother is dangerous and that she has powers—”

  “She doesn’t have any powers,” Parker interrupted. “The only powers she has are in Claudia’s mind.”

  “Claudia is terrified!” Robin insisted. “Nobody could be that terrified and be making it up!”

  “Claudia,” Parker said slowly, “is crazy. Pure and simple. Don’t believe her, Robin. Don’t trust her.”

  “Parker, I was there. I’ve been there—with her—more than once! I know what happened.”

  His eyes narrowed. “The storage room, you mean? Last night? Embarrassing yourself over some stupid curtains soaking in a bathtub—”

  “But what about today in the showers? I heard someone, too—I thought it was blood, too—”

  “Oh, come on, Robin, how often do you think kids rig up jokes in locker rooms!”

  “But there’ve been other things—”

  “What other things? I want you to tell me each and every thing that’s happened to Claudia, and I bet I can explain each and every one of them away!”

  Robin glared at him, too upset to argue anymore.

  “I have to go,” she said abruptly. She stood up and took a deep breath. “I have a lot of work to do.”

  “Suit yourself.” Parker watched her a moment, then took her place on the couch. He leaned back slowly and crossed his long legs out in front of him. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He smiled.

  “I don’t like threats,” Robin said.

  “No? Then you’d better be careful. Before you know it, Lillith will be coming for you, too.”

  He started laughing.

  He laughed and laughed, and as Robin stormed out into the hallway, the sound of Parker’s voice echoed over and over again in her ears.

  She could hardly keep her mind on her work.

  Alone in the study, Robin kept drifting off, catching herself gazing into the fire, only to realize that lapses of time had passed and that she’d been sitting there holding her pencil uselessly in her hand.

  She managed to get through only one more carton of books when old Mr. Swanson came shuffling in, carrying a tea tray.

  “Ah, there you are!” he exclaimed, wagging his bushy head. “The girl of my dreams!”

  It was even an effort for Robin to smile. Herk set the tray down on the desk and poured from a chipped china pot.

  “Mint tea,” he announced, handing her a cup and saucer. “Good for what ails you. Which, by the look of you this afternoon, seems to be considerable.”

  Robin looked guilty. “I didn’t think it showed.”

  “Maybe not to most people. But yes, to me, yes.” He eased himself into a chair and frowned at her. “I believe our boy is smitten with you.”

  Unconsciously Robin stiffened. “Hmph.”

  “No? Disagree? Or just not reciprocated?”

  Robin shook her head, but before she could speak, Herk went on.

  “He’s brilliant. I’ve said it before and I’ll keep saying it to anyone who’ll listen! He’s handsome and he’s sharp. Not like that limp little Claudia. Know what she reminds me of? Spaghetti. A piece of spaghetti all boiled away. Limp and white and boring.”

  Robin stared at the floor. A picture flashed through her mind—Claudia huddled in the shower, covered in red.

  “She’s terrified, Mr. Swanson,” Robin said.

  “Herk!” he barked at her.

  “Herk. Claudia is terrified. Of something. Of her mother. Of her mother coming back or—”

  “What in blazes are you talking about? That girl always has some paranoia or another. Why, back in our old place she was taking a tray full of medicine every single day. A walking pharmacy, that girl. Stuff to sleep, stuff to wake up, stuff for bad dreams, stuff for anemia, stuff for—ah, well”—he made an impatient gesture in the air—“what does it matter? Puny stock, that’s what I say. Why in God’s name my stupid son ever married her disgusting mother is beyond me!”

  “Why do you say that?” Robin asked seriously.

  “Say what?”

  “Why do you hate Lillith so much?”

  “She bewitched him!” Herk’s face screwed up, and he fairly spat out the words. “Bewitched him, pure and simple! Now, Parker’s mother—there was a beauty if ever I saw one—sweet and simple and loving. Not a sorceress like that Lillith. And Lillith was a common person, to boot. Should never have been involved with our family at all.”

  “But … your son must have loved her.”

  “He thought he loved her, but Gardner’s never been known for his great perceptions! That wasn’t love, what he felt for Lillith—that was desperation! Thank God I still hold the purse strings in this family—no telling what idiotic thing my stupid son might pull next! After he made the decision to marry Lillith, how could I ever trust him with the family fortune? No, they’re all lucky I’m still around to keep this crazy family on its feet.”

  Robin took a sip of tea and leaned back in her chair.

  “You really love Parker, don’t you?” she asked softly and noticed how the old man’s eyes took on a tender sort of shine at the mention of his grandson’s name.

  “Oh, I know he’s brash—rude sometimes—but so was I when I w
as young and handsome.” Herk leaned forward, a conspiratorial twinkle in his eye. “I turned heads and broke hearts!”

  Robin had to smile. “I don’t doubt that for a minute.”

  “Well, don’t doubt it, ’Cause I did! Parker has the brains—he just doesn’t know how to use them all yet. He’s going to be someone. He’s going to keep this family name going. He knows how to work people—charm people—he can be a very persuasive young man. Yes, I know you can call it insincerity if you want to, but I don’t call it that at all! I call it smart! In this day and age it’s important to get people on your side. That’s how you build. That’s how you survive.”

  “He doesn’t like Claudia very much, does he?”

  “Claudia? Hates her! Despises her! Well, can’t blame him, can I? My stupid son wants to split up Parker’s inheritance and give the girl half—what in blazes is Gardner thinking! I’ll tell you what he’s thinking—nothing! He never thinks at all! That was Lillith’s idea—the witch! She put that stupid idea in my stupid son’s head! Well, I forbid it! Claudia already gets Lillith’s share, and that’s all the Swanson money she’s ever going to get! Gardner wants to put her in the will—well, okay! But we’ll all have to die first before Claudia gets one—more—penny! Parker will do great things with that money. Run the family business. Carry on the family name. Improve what I started all those years ago. Not like that wimpy son of mine who can’t do anything right.”

  Herk leaned back, a dreamy look on his face.

  “Parker. He’s my hope. My future. He deserves the inheritance he’ll come into—not like Claudia. She didn’t have to do anything to deserve her money. Just be here. Just have a witch for a mother. So if Parker hates her, I say fine! All she does is run around and upset everybody with that wild imagination of hers. Should have been a writer or something. Then someone else could pay her for making things up.”

  “So you believe Parker really hates Claudia because of the money?” Robin asked seriously.

  Herk scowled. “Not just the money. Everything. The money’s just part of it. Mostly he just hates her ’cause she’s Claudia. What better reason?”

  Robin set her saucer down. “And you think … you think it really is just her imagination?”

  “Listen to me.” Herk stood up and began pacing, his hands folded behind his stooped back. “Ever since Lillith died, Claudia’s believed her mother’s coming back for her. It’s guilt, I tell you, nothing but guilt. Want to know what I think?”

  Robin knew he would tell her regardless, so she nodded.

  “I think Claudia was glad when her mother disappeared! Why, I think Claudia was so downright overjoyed that she stood right there on that beach and prayed to all the gods of the sea that Lillith would be washed clean out to kingdom come! But then”—Herk’s voice lowered to a stage whisper, and he leaned in close to Robin’s chair—“then when she actually saw Lillith—laid out all white and drowned and dead on those rocks—she was so horrified at her own feelings, she went straight out of her mind!”

  Herk rocked back on his heels, looking immensely pleased with himself.

  “The night after Lillith killed herself, Claudia woke us all up screaming. Said Lillith was standing down there on the beach calling for help, with shells and seaweed in her hair, waving her arms all around, telling Claudia to follow her! Does that sound like a sane person to you?” He snorted and jabbed a finger in the air for emphasis. “That girl is crazy as a bedbug.”

  The clock on the desk chimed softly, and Robin jumped.

  “I should get home,” she said. “Do you want me to come tomorrow?”

  “You mean you don’t have a hot date this weekend?” Herk teased. “You mean you’d rather be with me?”

  “You’re the best hot date I could think of.” Robin grinned, and he hugged her and walked her to the door.

  “It’s dark,” he said, scowling out at the chilly night. “I’ll get Parker to take you—”

  “No,” Robin said quickly. “Please don’t bother. It’s not far.”

  “But—”

  “Really. It’ll only take me a few minutes to get home from here.”

  She gathered her things together before he could protest, and then she hurried down the drive toward the gate. It felt as if a storm was brewing. A restless wind lashed the bare trees, and what few leaves remained on their branches now swirled wildly in the air. Robin brushed her hair back from her face and stopped suddenly, her heart in her throat.

  A noise? Or just the wind?

  A footstep?

  Quit being so jumpy—it’s just been a strange day—too many questions—too many suspicions …

  She forced herself to think about home and Walt coming over. She forced herself to think about that funny way he had of smiling and how he already seemed to know what she was going to tell him tonight—

  There it is again.

  Robin froze, her hands clenched in her pockets.

  Between the moaning of the wind and the flailing of the trees, it was impossible to hear anything clearly. She shielded her eyes and looked up into the sky. A glob of yellow moon showed ghostly behind torn ribbons of black clouds. Strange shadows leapt around her like dark spirits in torment.

  Come on, Robin, quit scaring yourself.

  She began to walk faster. Her sneakers thudded softly on the driveway, crackling leaves underfoot, snapping twigs. The wind wasn’t moaning anymore, but sighing—a haunting sound … a sad sound—

  “Robin,” it sighed … “help me …”

  Robin broke into a run. Her breath was ragged in her throat, and her heart felt as if it was going to explode. The driveway seemed to have acquired a whole new series of twists and turns through the trees, seemed to have become an impossible maze that led nowhere. Dangerous shadows lurked around her—invisible watchers waited for her to fall. Limbs reached down and snatched at her, and she screamed as one caught her by the hair.

  Robin couldn’t move.

  In her terror the more she tried to free herself, the more her hair tangled in the tree branch. Jerking and pulling, she only succeeded in trapping herself more. At last she managed to tilt her head back and grab for the limb.

  But it wasn’t the limb she felt beneath her fingertips.

  It was a badly scarred face.

  “Well, looka here,” a voice hissed, and as Robin screamed, she felt slow, sour breath sweep over her.

  “Yessiree, just look here what we have.”

  Eyes wide, Robin saw Skaggs’s face only inches from her own, a sleazy grin spreading over his lips. She gave one hard tug and heard him laugh.

  “You’re just makin’ it worse, strugglin’ like that,” Skaggs scolded gently. “You’re just gettin’ yourself in a hell of a mess.”

  From Robin’s twisted angle she saw his arm move out from his side, saw him lean a shovel up against a tree.

  “Hear that wind?” he murmured. “It’s so loud, you could scream and scream and probably nobody would hear.”

  To Robin’s horror she felt his hand on her hair … on her cheek … sliding down the side of her neck …

  “Stop it!” she cried. “Let me go!”

  “Why should I?” he whispered, his lips against her ear. “When you’re so nice and helpless this way?”

  “No—”

  “You should be nicer to me, little girl. You and I could make some kind of a … partnership, hmmm?”

  “Get away from her, Skaggs.”

  Robin screamed again as a tall shadow disentangled itself from the trees. She felt Skaggs go rigid, and in the next second he shoved her away.

  “I didn’t mean nothin’,” he was practically whining now, fumbling with her hair, trying to pull it from the branch while she struggled to get away. “I didn’t mean nothin’ … I was only tryin’ to help—”

  “Don’t ever touch her,” the voice said again.

  It was a cold voice … a frightening voice.

  With one final jerk Robin felt her hair come free.

>   She looked up into Parker’s angry stare, and then she turned and ran.

  Afterward Robin didn’t remember getting home.

  One minute she was caught in Parker’s merciless gaze, and the next she was inside her front door, leaning against it, gasping for breath. She didn’t know how long she stood there, shaking, trying to clear her mind, trying to collect herself, trying to make sense of what had happened.…

  She could still hear Skaggs’s oily voice, smell the liquor on his breath, feel the sleazy touch of his hand—and when she closed her eyes and tried to force the images away, she could still see the shovel leaning up against the tree, and Parker materializing out of the shadows.…

  What were they doing out there?

  And if Parker hadn’t shown up … what—

  Something thudded beside her head, and Robin jumped back into the hallway with a scream.

  For a moment she’d forgotten she was leaning against the front door. She hadn’t expected someone to knock on the other side.

  Walt …

  “Who is it?” Her voice was shaking so badly she could hardly speak.

  For a moment no one answered.

  And then, hesitantly, “Robin? It’s me. Walt.”

  She flung the door wide and stood there staring at him. And the next thing she knew, he was in the hall and his arms were around her, and he was searching her face with an anxious frown.

  “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

  “A lot. I don’t know.” She was shaking her head and had a hold of his arms, leading him back into the kitchen. She saw him nod and shrug out of his jacket, and then they were standing beneath the bright lights, and things were beginning to come back into normal focus once more.

  “A lot,” Robin said again. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  Walt slipped his jacket over the back of a chair.

  “How about with egg rolls?”

  Robin looked blank. “What?”

  “I’ve always found,” he went on calmly, producing a sack that Robin hadn’t even noticed, “that it’s best to start with egg rolls. And then get on to the really important stuff. Like the chow mein.”

  She watched as he put the sack on the counter and began pulling out little white containers.