Evil Heights, Book II: Monster in the House

by Michael Swanson

  Lee thought it over, looking at the two men. It was amazing to Lee the differences between Uncle Ed's life and that of his dad, almost the same worlds apart as Maggie and Miss Laura. After their glorious championship senior year in high school, a number of colleges had come after Uncle Ed wanting him to play with a full scholarship. His dad though, didn't have the grades. He'd scored almost as many touchdowns playing running back as Ed had as at quarterback, but the few schools that were interested dropped their offers before fall classes had begun.

  In August, only three months after graduation, while Ed was preparing to go to school, Ted had married Lee's mom, Darva Anne. Six months later Lee was born. When he was a baby they had all lived in this house. He knew little about his own early history. But he did know that right out of high school his dad couldn't afford a nice place and it had been much more convenient for everyone if they all lived here. His dad had worked at a number of local jobs before enlisting in the army when Lee was only two. He didn't know much about what led up to that. But he did know that his father had not come home from the service for more than a few days at a time until Darva Anne fell victim of the influenza epidemic of ‘51.

  Ed and his family, on the other hand, lived in a modern two-story house over in the Groves, and he bought a new car at least every year. For them, if Maggie hadn't inherited this house, they'd still be over in their little rental place in Pickford Acres, with Ted walking to catch the bus to work each morning.

  "Life's funny,” Lee thought to himself. He was well aware that Ed had come from a stable family with resources and a good name. His dad, on the other hand, had been taken in by his alcoholic uncle, his only remaining relative after his father died. But there was more to it than that. He realized that there were a slew of different factors that led up to where everyone found themselves today, with the most damning for his family being his own birth.

  "So what did you think about the bike?” Miss Laura asked, suddenly surprising everyone.

  "It's a beaut,” Ed replied, his speech beginning to soften around the edges after this, his fifth beer.

  Miss Laura looked to Lee. “How many days did you work for Petunia Ballard?"

  "Eight. She paid me five bucks a day."

  "There's lots of kids you couldn't pay fifty dollars a day to work over there,” Miss Laura said. “Did you see anything,” her voice really seemed to just drip with her accent, “uh, you know what I mean ... interesting?"

  "Mrs. Ballard has this little house in the back.” Lee sat up, his funk disappearing. “She goes out in it in the morning and sits in there, sometimes through the whole afternoon."

  "You know, Lee told us about that.” Ted's speech was becoming as rubbery as Ed's. “He says she just sits in there and stares at the back wall. Doesn't even open a window or door. Crazy ain't it?"

  "How peculiar,” Miss Laura made a quizzical expression, “To sit out there in this heat."

  "Ain't,” Maggie said out of the blue, pulling away. She looked accusingly to Laura. “You heard him.” Her voice was more than a little slurred and her own accent was showing. “Ain't he says. What kind of example is that to set for the kids?” She pushed at Ted ruefully. “Sounds like some kind of redneck hillbilly lingo."

  Ted grabbed her shoulder and shook Maggie playfully. “Come on, hon, lighten up. This isn't English class here."

  She pushed his hand away and settled back into the corner of the couch her pout almost a mirror image of Patty's. “I just don't like it is all. We're not like those Riley's across the street, you know."

  There was a long moment of silence, the only sound to be heard over the whirr of the fan and the rhythm of the cicadas was a high-pitched, “Gimme that!” This came from down the hall.

  "I found an eyeball,” Lee blurted out.

  "An eyeball?” Ed and Miss Laura repeated together.

  "A glass eye,” corrected Ted. “A green one."

  "A filthy thing,” Maggie inserted.

  "You're kidding,” Miss Laura ignored Maggie's remark, looking genuinely interested. “Where?"

  "In a pile of dirt I was digging in down by the river.” Lee sat forward away from the chair. “Y'all want to see it?"

  "Down by the river?” She fixed her eyes on Lee. “Where abouts down by the river?"

  "At the Ballard house. There was lots of junk in the dirt: teeth, hair, even a few old buttons. Most of it I just threw in the river, but I kept the eye. Do you want to see? I've got it in my room."

  "Oh I'm sure she doesn't want to see it,” Maggie mumbled, fumbling as she was having difficulty lighting her cigarette. Her two drinks had begun to catch up with her, and she seemed to be slipping away. “Filthy old trash, garbage, that's all it is."

  "No actually, I'd very much like to see it.” Miss Laura was sincere, even eager.

  Lee jumped up and ran down the hall to his room and retrieved the eye from the roll top desk. Sometimes he'd had trouble finding it, even having to take the drawer out and spill its contents out onto the bed. Frustrating to no end, because he knew it was there, but it was like the thing could momentarily disappear. But tonight, there it was when he pulled out the drawer, looking right at him. Hurrying back he gave it to Miss Laura who already had put her hand out the instant Lee ran back into the room.

  Ed scooted forward to have a look. “Yep, That's a glass eye. Looks like an old one, too."

  Miss Laura held it up to the lamp on the end table, studying it intently.

  Uncle Ed looked to Lee. “You never know, you may have found something valuable there, Lee boy. Laura majored in history in college. When we were dating, she was always dragging me out to some empty field where a battle took place or to some crumbling old house out somewhere."

  "I remember you didn't always mind some of the places we went to.” She gave him a look Lee had often seen pass between Maggie and his dad.

  "True. True.” Ed nodded with a wistful look. “Those were the days."

  "This is a really interesting piece,” Miss Laura shifted her attention back to the eye. “I'd believe, based upon where you said you found it, that this must surely have belonged to a Captain Limpkins of the Delaware regiment."

  She held it up closer to the light. “Look at the color of green in the pupil. It was common knowledge that he'd had a green eye made to order in Boston to replace the real one he'd lost at Gettysburg. Most of what I've read about Captain Limpkins indicates that he was quite vain, and the color had to be just right. He was what we call a perfectionist."

  "A what?” Lee asked.

  "An asshole,” Ted chimed in. “They want the impossible and aren't happy until everyone is made to suffer for it. It's the number one requirement for anyone who buys printing."

  "I know that guy,” Ed said. “I sold him a house about a month ago. Then he had the nerve to call me and tell me the roof leaked."

  Ted held out his beer pointing at Ed. “There's just no pleasing some people."

  "You got that right,” Ed agreed

  Miss Laura shook her head at the two men who were more than halfway drunk. “Well, Captain Limpkins wasn't a very nice man, there wasn't much pleasing him either, that is if we can believe all the history about the man."

  "What'd so special about him?” Lee's interest was immediate.

  "Oh no,” Ed said. “Now he's done it. We're in for history 101."

  Miss Laura shot a sharp glance at her husband. “I wouldn't want to bore anyone, least of all you two beer hounds."

  Maggie had almost drifted off completely; she had her head nestled on Ted's shoulder, and again, her ash had grown long. As if on cue she let out a pinched little snore, a moment later her head snapped back up. She looked around blearily as though she'd missed something, and the ash fell into her lap.

  "See,” Ed pointed. “One down all ready."

  Ted reached over, and very gingerly pulled the cigarette from Maggie's fingers.

  "Ohh!” Miss Laura cried out. The eye had slipped and popped out from her fingers.<
br />
  Lee saw her make a swinging grab for the eye in mid air. Amazingly, she caught it, snatching it up well before it could hit the floor.

  Right then, every light in the house brightened tenfold for just a split second, an effect not unlike a photo flash. To Lee, he felt something pass through his nerves like a jolt or a twitch, one of those quick shivers that made the hair on his arms and neck stand on end. And there was the unmistakable smell of hot wiring and ozone in the air.

  Ted propped himself up with both arms, almost coming out of his seat. He was looking all around. “What in the world was that?"

  "A spike, probably,” Uncle Ed replied casually.

  Ted sat back down, the honed triceps on the back of his arms moving easily under his skin. “Yeah, and what's that?"

  "Summertime, the power company switches feeds from one of the generating plants, is what they say, or something like that."

  "Where's my drink?” Maggie asked.

  "On the table, sweetie,” Ted replied. “Here.” He reached out, keeping Maggie where she was, and managed to grip the lip of the glass. Bringing it up, pinched between his fingers and thumb, he held it so the straw fell around in the direction of Maggie's mouth. She took the last sip, again gurgling well after she'd hit bottom.

  Maggie smacked her lips and suddenly seemed to come back to life. She took the glass and even sat up a little, leaning forward on the arm of the couch.

  "That was good. Mmmm.” She licked her lips, rattling the cubes around in the glass. “How ‘bout another?” She looked to Ted. “Isn't it your turn to play bartender?"

  "In a minute, sweetie. Why don't you just sit back? Maybe you've have had enough for right now."

  Maggie twisted around, glaring at Ted. “Who do you think you are to try to tell me when I've had enough? Whose house is this anyway?"

  The conversation stopped dead, right there.

  "Honey, I—"

  "Don't you honey me,” Maggie snapped. “I can have another drink whenever I want in my own house. Look at all the damn beer you swill down."

  Again, silence, nothing but the whirr of the fan and the tick of the clock.

  Lee couldn't believe he'd just heard Maggie say “damn.” But he wasn't about to call her attention to it. Except for the consequences, he almost thought it'd be funny to remind her she should go wash her mouth out with soap. Though just at the thought of it, he could instantly recall the all too familiar, sharp taste from a fresh bar of Ivory.

  All traces of Maggie's earlier stupor seemed to have evaporated. She looked around angrily, taking in everyone. And then visibly, she lightened and pressed her right hand demurely to her breast. “Oh, listen to me. I didn't mean to fly off the handle like that.” She waved her hands about fanning the air around her head. “It must be the heat.” Her voice did have a definite slur to it along with a thickening of her true accent. She patted Ted on the knee. “Don't y'all worry about me. I'll just get up and make myself another.” She stood, a little wobbly. “Anyone else?"

  "I'm fine, no mom,” and “not me,” came from Ted, Lee, and Uncle Ed. Miss Laura simply shook her head.

  Maggie picked up her glass. “Where's my Kools?"

  Ted leaned forward and picked up the pack and lighter in one scoop.

  Maggie accepted the offering adding lightly, “I'll be back in a jiff."

  As soon as she was gone Ted sat back, giving everyone an apologetic expression. “Sorry about that, folks."

  Ed waved his hand. “Don't worry about it, Ted. Another drink will probably do her good, settle her down."

  Ted looked in earnest at Miss Laura. “Hey, I'd still like to hear about that captain guy. I'll bet Lee does too. Don't you, son?"

  "Maybe it's not such a nice story for a boy Lee's age,” Miss Laura said.

  Now Lee was hooked.

  "No I'd like to hear about him, really. I like history.” He looked to his father. “Ask my dad. I get A's in history all the time."

  Ted nodded. “That's true. I don't mean to brag on him, but I'm sure Ed's told you they've bumped Lee up to high school a year early. The boy's smart as a whip. Don't know where he gets it from. Not from me, I can tell you. I never got an A in my life, except maybe in PE or shop."

  Both Ted and Ed laughed.

  Ed leaned up and put on a serious face, peering intently at Lee. “Did your dad ever tell you that you were adopted?"

  "Not exactly adopted,” Ted corrected quickly. “I found him in a basket floating out on the Yalahalla one morning when I was fishing for catfish. Looked like a picnic basket to me. So I thought, what the hell, someone was having a picnic and lost their lunch. I looked inside and there he was wrapped up in wax paper like a ham sandwich. Of course, I'd have preferred the ham sandwich."

  "You could have cut him up and used him for bait,” Uncle Ed inserted.

  Ted pointed to Ed, like he'd really hit on something. “I would have but the fish weren't hitting cut bait that morning, so I had to use him whole. I wrapped the line around,” Ted was getting in to story, animatedly spinning invisible fishing line around and around with both hands, “and then tossed him in.” He casted, using an imaginary pole. “Of course, one whiff of that diaper, and the fish all died. I ended up taking him home with me anyway, figuring at least I got a pretty good new basket out of the deal."

  "There's a statue of a little girl at the Ballard's,” Lee jumped in, attempting to ignore the joke. “She's holding a basket."

  "Statue, huh?” Uncle Ed said. “I wouldn't be surprised about anything you told me you saw over there. Who knows what they got back at that place."

  "Oh there's lots of keen-o stuff.” Lee's eagerness was showing through. “They've got a sundial that can't tell time ‘cause some idiot put it in the shade.” He began listing the items, ticking them off on his fingers as he went. “There's a big, ugly fountain with a Cupid that pees on people, a statue of a mostly naked lady, these two lost kids, and a whole bunch of other really weird stuff."

  Miss Laura had the eye cupped in the palm of her left hand, which was resting in the center of her lap, and she was sitting up as primly as could be. “Now Lee, what would Maggie say if she heard you talking like that, a statue that ... umm, makes water, and an unclad lady?"

  Lee looked toward the kitchen and shrugged. “But it's true,” he protested. “The girl statue is wearing like a night gown, but you can see right through it. And,” he sat up, “there's a guy in the bushes staring at her!"

  "We'll have to go scope that place out,” Ted looked to Ed and then to Lee. “And there's a guy you say? A peeping tom?"

  "Someone already beat us there, damn!” Ed replied. He clapped his hands down on his knees just as Maggie walked back into the room.

  Maggie, grinning like the life of the party ran her fingers lightly over the dinner table as she came around toward the couch. “What'd I miss?"

  "Lee's filling us in on the level of high culture over at the Ballard estate,” Ted replied.

  Maggie put her drink down on the coaster she'd been using. She'd changed glasses, and now had a tall iced tea tumbler filled to the top. Lee was sure he could smell the rum from where he was sitting.

  "That's such an awful place,” Maggie said as she took her seat and then picked up her drink. “Daddy used to go over there every now and then when I was little. But I hated to go. If he tried to make me I'd pitch a fit. Darva Anne would though. She'd go anywhere with Daddy. They had swings and a real slide, I remember. Course, Daddy had some kind of argument with Mr. Ballard, I think about those trees, and he didn't go over there no more. Suited me just fine.” She gave a weak, little grin. “Patty, me and Lee, we all stopped by over there right after we moved back in here, you know, to be neighborly.” She took a long sip from her straw. “Petunia Ballard was about as rude as she could be, wasn't she Lee?"

  Lee nodded.

  Maggie took another drink and then set the glass down. “Just ‘cause she has money, that old bitty thinks she can be rude to folks. Sour old bag
. Some people don't have no class. None at all."

  Miss Laura made a tight little face like she was biting her tongue, but didn't say a thing.

  "What about these statues you're telling us about?” Uncle Ed asked quickly. “You say there's a man, who is looking at a girl, who is running around in a see through negligee?"

  Lee sat back. “Yeah, he's an old statue. I think older than any of the others they have. He looks like he's from the Renaissance era. He's got one of those hats, with the feather in it.” Lee diagrammed with his hands, flourishing his fingers about his head and ending with a long sweep back. “They've got him placed out in garden so that he's peeking out at the girl from inside of some bushes. You can't see him from the walkway.” Lee took a drink of his Coke, swirling the remains of the ice around. “Another thing too, I met this old colored man there, he mows the grass—"

  "Blondie,” Uncle Ed interjected. “Yeah, I know him. He does work for me sometimes. Kind of expensive, though."

  "Yeah, Blondie,” Lee replied. “He told me some stories about the Ballard house, things I'd never heard before."

  "Like what?” Ted tried to scoot forward but Maggie was right up against him. “You didn't tell me anything about talking with an old colored guy. You didn't tell me any of this."

  "He was keen-o, dad. We were eating lunch, and he told me that from way back when a lot of people have been killed in the Ballard house. ‘Specially, he told me about a family who all were killed in a room up on the second floor.” He neglected to say that Blondie hadn't told him exactly where they'd been killed; he'd seen it in his daydream.