Evil Heights, Book II: Monster in the House

by Michael Swanson

  "That'd be the Tarver's,” Miss Laura said very matter-of-factly. “It was in the early twenties, twenty-two, I think. Father, son, mother and two little daughters. Terribly brutal. Worse thing was, no one was ever apprehended."

  Ed nodded to Ted. “See, what'd I say? Not only good looking, but she knows her stuff."

  Miss Laura was rolling the eye around in her cupped palm; just a little swirl was all it took to keep it moving, always moving.

  Maggie picked up Ted's left arm swinging it over her head and drawing it around her shoulder as she snuggled in. From where she sat, she was still able to reach out and pick up her drink without having to move away from under Ted's arm.

  Lee couldn't help but notice Maggie had more than a trace of that cat that ate the canary grin, plastered on her face, again. The same amused and self-satisfied look he'd seen during and ever after the embarrassing episode in the bathroom the other day.

  Wiggling back with her hips and even kicking off her shoes, Maggie worked her way back into Ted. She then reached up and got a hold of his left hand in both of hers pulling it down across her shoulder. A moment later, when she leaned forward slightly to pick up her drink, she pressed his hand down squarely upon her left breast.

  For Lee, who was watching from where he sat on the floor, there was no mistaking the fullness of contact, nor the surprised look which registered on his dad's face. He also couldn't miss the fact that Maggie continued to hold his hand pressed against her even after she had settled back. Apparently, Miss Laura had noticed as well, as she abruptly looked away; either that or she was for some reason suddenly intrigued with her own reflection in the blank television screen.

  Lee scooted forward slightly and spoke up. “Miss Laura, there's this old Mexican man named Javier who lives down at the end of our road. A week or so ago he told me all about an old, old Indian who lived around here five or six hundred years ago, called Osia. Now this guy, he did some really bad things."

  Miss Laura's surprise was plainly evident. “You know about Osia?"

  "The liar!” Lee added enthusiastically.

  "I'm impressed,” she replied. “Remind me some time to have you sit down and tell me all about what this Mexican gentleman told you."

  "Sure thing,” Lee said eagerly. “If you'd like, I can take you over to meet him.” Lee had been looking for an opportunity to use one of his new words. “We can have some cabrito.” Thanks to his practicing, the R's rolled off his tongue almost as well as a native speaker.

  "And what would cabrito be?” Miss Laura tried, but couldn't reproduce Lee's expert trill of the R's.

  "Bar-b-qued leg of baby goat!” Like a comedian gloating over a well-timed punch line, Lee enjoyed Miss Laura's reaction.

  Miss Laura, obviously avoiding Maggie, looked directly at Ted. “You let your son eat the leg of a baby goat?"

  "Goes great with beer,” Ted came back, then added, “Hey Ed, speaking of beer, go get me another one will you before Laura gets started? Maggie's got me trapped here."

  "I can see.” It was Uncle Ed's turn to flash a nefarious grin. “Y'all lookin’ pretty cozy there on the couch. I'd hate to break that up.” Ed got up and carefully, retrieving the tray and stepped over Charlene who was sprawled out on the floor, arms and legs spread like she'd fallen splat from ten stories above. He held up the tray in one hand like a waiter. “Anyone else?"

  "I could take a refresher, if you don't mind, Garcon,” Miss Laura smiled up at her husband. “But not quite so much rum this time.” She held up her thumb and forefinger to illustrate her point. “I think I'm becoming a bit woozie."

  "Lee?"

  "Coke's good for me.” Lee knew that normally Maggie wouldn't have stood for his having a third, but she didn't appear to be paying any attention right now, and he knew his dad couldn't have cared less.

  "I could take a little more rum,” Maggie added. She gave off this weird little hiccupy giggle and grinned up at Ed. “Fill ‘er up! The stuff's just sitting out on the counter and y'all's beers are in the ‘fridge."

  Miss Laura reached over and touched Lee on the shoulder. She had the softest hands. “May I hold the eye for a while?” She was rubbing it into her palm with her fingers. “It's just incredible how smooth it feels."

  Lee nodded, surprised by the softness of her touch. “No, that's okay. Go ahead, Miss Laura. I know what you mean.” Even now, he could feel a trace of it where he had last touched with his fingers. “It's ... I don't know. But you can feel it, can't you?"

  Maggie spoke up. “I don't see how you can put that nasty thing in your hand, Laura. Every time I look at it, I can't help but think it used to be in someone's head.” She still had a hold of Ted's hand and was rubbing it across the back of the knuckles, lightly, caressing with her fingers in the most suggestive manner. She nodded at Lee. “That boy there, he told me a big fat fib. He said it was just a marble.” She looked straight on at Lee. “Didn't you?"

  He wanted to say: “Well if you hadn't slipped the lock and walked in on me in the bathroom while I was butt naked I wouldn't have been so confused.” But of course, he couldn't say that, so he settled for an excuse. “Well, it sort of looks like a marble. At first I thought it was, at least until I got it all cleaned up."

  Maggie gave him a wink, something Lee had never seen her do before. It was a bit disconcerting.

  "Don't try to wiggle off the hook,” she said, slurring her words. “Why didn't you just fess up and tell me it was an eyeball?"

  "I don't know,” Lee replied a little sullenly. He really didn't want to look in her direction right now lest she read what he was thinking from his eyes. He stared at his PF Flyers. “I guess I had other things bothering me right at that very moment.” He really did hate that smirk Maggie had been giving him.

  "What's all this?” Ted asked.

  "Nothing. It doesn't really matter. I'm just giving Lee a little poke he knows he deserves.” Maggie looked back to Miss Laura. “That thing is disgusting.” She shuddered, shivering her shoulders. “I think I'd rather change a two day old diaper than have that thing touch my skin."

  Miss Laura hadn't seemed to have heard; she wasn't even looking at Maggie, but off into space.

  Lee had switched from examining his shoes to watching her. She had drifted away, somewhere, nowhere, and was totally oblivious of his stare; all the while she was delicately rolling the eye around with her fingers, occasionally licking her lips with just the tip of her tongue. He knew that look. That's how he felt when he fell into a daydream at school. The teachers were always on him, waking him from wherever he had let his mind wander, telling him to sit up and pay attention. School was boring; what he could imagine was so much more interesting.

  Miss Laura was obviously lost in her daydream, recalling or imagining whatever it was quite vividly. Her dark eyes were open, but glassy and focused on nothing but the air. There was no mistaking a kind of heat about her, her breath had quickened, there was a flush to her cheeks even brighter than her rouge, and again and again, she licked at her lips. Miss Laura, always such a lady, she habitually sat with her legs primly pressed together at the knees, feet crossed at the ankles. But as Lee watched, mesmerized, her knees began to part, and the hand with the eye sank down, delving into the pleated folds of her skirt.

  Spellbound, Lee felt his own cheeks reddening. Unexpectedly, he could recall the scent of baby powder, how fresh and clean Phoebe had smelled, even with the heat and the sweat. It was Phoebe; she was with him, up close in his arms. Miss Laura, she brought all that back, so attractive, so sweetly feminine, so soft, so innocently beautiful in her state of unconscious oblivion. Certainly, up close, she'd have a smell all her own, maybe even something like Phoebe. Phoebe, the name and the recollection of her were all so real, especially the two of them alone.

  Lost in what he was remembering, what he was feeling, Lee couldn't take his eyes off of Miss Laura. Her hair, he'd never noticed how dark it was against her white skin and the way the curls near the edges of her eyes
hung down. The curves of her breasts so rounded under her silk blouse, moved under the fabric with each breath, as she was breathing so much more deeply than natural for one who was merely sitting in a chair fondling a little ball of glass. From the exposure of the modestly tantalizing hint of cleavage, all the way up to the lines of her throat he could perceive the strength of her ardor each time she swallowed, and then swallowed again.

  As she daydreamed, if in fact that was what it was she was doing, she kept at the eye, fondling it, occasionally squeezing it, and rubbing it round and round into her palm, toying with the thing. Lee could catch momentary flashes of the enamel, though she had dropped lower with her hand, pressing even more deeply down into the folds of her skirt. There was something so sensual, so subtly enticing about the manner in which her fingers made contact, applying just the soft tips and at times her fingernails, painted pink, delicately stroking at it, petting it. This was the single most suggestive display he'd ever witnessed, as indeed, she was unaware he was watching. Adding fuel to his fire, he could feel the unmistakable rise of his own excitement. He swallowed, too, dryly. This was a side of Miss Laura he'd never before been exposed to. Then he heard it. He knew he had even after the sound was gone. It was so slight, nothing more that a slip of her breath hidden amidst the whirr of the fan. Miss Laura had sighed, a deep, yet so very feminine sound of pleasure. The sensation of it cast him back to the train yard, to Phoebe. He'd heard just that same sound escape from Phoebe lips when he'd held her and touched her, as they were alone together, kissing in the caboose.

  Lee, suddenly rousing, and suddenly very self-conscious, gave a quick glance to his dad and Maggie to make sure he hadn't been caught staring. He saw they weren't paying him or Miss Laura even the slightest bit of attention. Maggie had turned her face in to Ted, having wrapped one of her legs over his knee. They were locked in a kiss, both their eyes were closed, and it was Maggie who was leaning in. Lee could not believe what he was seeing. There could be no mistaking what was going on over on the couch; his dad and Maggie were on the verge of making a lurid scene, right there in the living room. For a moment he thought, “If Maggie sees that she'll...” but just as quickly, realized his error.

  Maybe there was something wrong with the bearings in the ceiling fan, Lee couldn't tell, but there was an off-tune metallic tinkling in the air, almost like a child's little toy piano. It was a tinkling and tapping, the rhythm becoming discernable as a sassy rag time, heard ever so faintly, tantalizingly playing hide and seek near the fringe of what he could say was real. And with it came the aroma of sweet, clean baby powder with a hint of lavender, the fragrance was alive in the air.

  Suddenly, Uncle Ed walked back into the room carrying the drinks on a tray, breaking the spell. “Hey! Why's it so quiet in here?"

  Both Maggie and his dad started, reacting exactly as kids would if caught necking out on the porch swing. Too close on the sofa, they broke off their kiss and scooted apart.

  Ed looked down at the two of them as he passed by. “I think y'all need a chaperone."

  Maggie scrunched into the corner not looking back up at Ed, and Ted sat back running his fingers through his hair again and again.

  "Hey, honey!” Ed shook the tray, rattling the ice cubes. “Hey, are you there?"

  Miss Laura snapped back to herself, her right hand immediately flying up to her chest, just below her throat. The other hand, the one with the eye, closed into a fist, and she quickly brought one leg over the other, crossing them together tightly. She was quite flushed and flustered, appearing as though she might have just skipped a breath or two.

  "You okay?” Ed asked.

  She swallowed and cleared her throat. “Uh, yes.” She reached out for the glass. “You've arrived in the nick of time. I think I do need a drink."

  Ed held back, and then, almost grudgingly, offered the tray to his wife. “I don't know if I should let you have another one.” He looked more than a little suspicious. “You look kind of peaked. What's going on in here...?” He trailed off, glancing around, then looked back to his wife. “I think I'd better warn you, I put a little more rum in there than what you asked for."

  Miss Laura shook her head. The hand in her lap had opened, and the eye was visible stuck to the center of her sweaty palm. She let out with a mighty exhale and then sat up, accepting the glass. Immediately, she took a quick sip of her drink. Then, discarding the straw, she took a very unladylike gulp. Licking her lips, she smiled up to her husband. “No, actually the drink's fine. I think it's just what the doctor ordered.” She took another gulp.

  "Whoa!” Ed pulled back for effect. “Looks like I'm gonna get lucky and get you liquored up. I guess this is going to be a party?” He swung around the coffee table and stood before Maggie and Ted. “Y'all two were looking pretty cozy there a minute ago.” He held out the tray. “Reminds me of the old days, huh Ted? What brought that on? Don't y'all remember you're supposed to be an old married couple?"

  Ted and Maggie had conspicuously scooted apart on the couch, both looking more than a bit rumpled. Maggie lit a Kool, never looking up.

  Ted ran his fingers through his hair another time, a nervous reflex, then handed Maggie her rum and Coke and finally took a beer for himself. He gave Ed his grin, though it looked more flustered than sincere. “Thanks, just in the nick of time,” he said. “I think I need this. I was running a bit dry.” He reached over and patted Maggie on the knee. “You doing okay, sugar?"

  She was so busy drinking, but perhaps only feigning such a dire thirst, all she could manage was to look up and nod.

  Lee couldn't help it. At last it was his turn. He caught Maggie's attention and gave her back that same smirk. “Ooh-la-la."

  It was his dad who replied. “That's enough, Lee. There's nothing the matter if your mother and I have a little kiss.” He again patted Maggie on the knee. “We're just a couple of love birds."

  "She's not my mom!” Lee wanted to holler, but held his tongue.

  Maggie was concentrating on peering down into her drink and swishing the ice around with the straw. It seemed there was nothing more important to her than the bottom of that glass.

  Ted scooted back over, closer. “Aren't we, hon?"

  Maggie looked up so only Lee, who was sitting on the floor, could see and cast him as acrid a look as he'd ever seen from her. In the next moment, the demonstration of how suddenly she could change was even scarier than her threatening glare. In the time it took to raise her face to Ted the anger evaporated and she beamed back at him saying ever so sweetly: “Yes, hon, it's been way too long since we shared such a sweet little kiss. I felt like we're dating again."

  Again Lee kept his mouth shut, but though to himself, “Ya'll didn't ever date. One day you just started sleeping together."

  Uncle Ed had taken his own beer off the tray, lit a cigarette of his own, and settled down in the other overstuffed chair next to his wife. Holding the beer and the cigarette in one hand he scooped up another huge handful of peanuts, then sat back. “Well, if everybody's taken care of I'm ready,” he said. “Bring on the Captain."

  Looking anywhere except at his dad and Maggie, Lee snatched a cushion from the dining room chair Maggie had brought in earlier and placed it conveniently over his lap. He scrunched and scooted back against the worn corner of the chair until he had himself just right. Reaching up, he grabbed his glass of Coke, which was still sitting on the tray. He took a long drink for himself, just now realizing how dry his throat had become and reacted to the fire; it was everything he could do to not cough and spit it out. Uncle Ed had made a mistake and accidentally put rum in his glass. It was strong, too, a double, maybe a triple.

  "You okay?” his dad asked.

  "Yeah,” Lee sputtered, “I think a little went down the wrong way is all."

  Maggie seemed only to have eyes for the ice in the bottom of her glass. “He's still such a kid.” Then there was that smirk again. She looked right at him. “You have to watch him all the time."

&nbs
p; Lee just gave her a blank look and took a drink from his straw, thinking, I'll show you who's a kid. The rum was sharp. He'd never really had much alcohol before, only an occasional sip or two from his dad's beer; and once, he'd drank some pilfered scotch when camping out in the tree house with Ronnie, Phil, and a couple of the other boys. Thanks to the experience with the scotch, he knew to take it real slow.

  Settled in, he gave Miss Laura his undivided attention. From where he sat on the floor, she reminded Lee of one the younger teachers he knew, except that she was hands down the prettiest. He didn't know if it was just an effect of her daydream or the heat or the drinks, but even though she shifted about trying to compose herself, Miss Laura still did look a bit rattled.

  Taking another good, long drink, Miss Laura then placed her glass down on top of a magazine sitting out on the table. Quickly though, she brought her hand back to cover the eye, flattening it in her palm and sandwiching it between both hands. Then, like a craps shooter, ready to throw the dice, she rolled it around vigorously. The expression she held, as she was obviously composing her thoughts for the history lesson, was again distant and glassy eyed, reminding Lee of an old Indian medicine man he had once seen in a cowboy movie preparing to cast the bones to see into the future.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE CAPTAIN

  "It was late 1865,” she began. “The war was over. The Union garrison stationed here had commandeered the Ballard House for use as a headquarters and a hospital. It looked much the same as it does today. Of course, back then it wasn't known as the Ballard Estate, but was still called by its much older name: Wilkes Cherry Point. The officer in command of the hospital was a doctor from the Delaware regiment. He'd seen action at places like Gettysburg and Antietam. His name was Limpkins, Captain Corbell Limpkins."

  She held up the eye, turning it around so she could see straight into the pupil. “In the state archives I've seen a picture of him. Unfortunately, the photo was taken before Gettysburg, when he still had both of his natural eyes. I would have imagined he would have appeared quite strikingly different when he was wearing this."