Tommy Nightmare (Jenny Pox #2)
Page 22
“That is so interesting,” Wooly said. He grabbed Seth’s arm. “Come on. Time to get funky now.”
“Call me if you need anything,” Seth said to Darcy, while the other guys dragged him out of the room.
“I’m good right here.” Darcy winked. The heavy old door closed, locking her inside the room.
The night Seth and Darcy left town, Jenny had her last dream of Euanthe.
In the dream, Euanthe walked through the open plaza of the agora, where trade was no longer conducted. Bodies burned on top of a pyramid of wood, and more families were carrying their dead to the fire. The sick filled the temples and the streets, groaning, begging for water and coughing up dark bile. Bloody pustules oozed from their faces and hands, and their fevered and shrunken bodies radiated heat.
So many were sick that no one remained to take care of them, and most Athenians had shut themselves away in their homes, filled with panic at the outbreak of plague, praying to their household gods to protect them.
Only Euanthe did not fear the plague.
She walked past the countless victims and out of the city along the North Wall. This was one of the walls that made the city impenetrable to King Archidamus, stretching all the way to the sea. But she was a weapon that could slip past the wall.
It was a long walk back to the port of Piraeus, forty or fifty stadia. A smuggler waited there to carry her away from Athens and back to her king.
The dream melted forward in time. Now, Spartan hoplites with plumed helmets and bronze shields escorted her again to the tent of King Archidamus, whose army still ravaged Attica, the land on which Athens depended for her agriculture.
It was a cold night, and Euanthe’s hair was still damp from the sea. The fires of the army camp were a welcome sight to her.
Euanthe entered the king’s tent.
Archidamus sat on a lion-footed chair, reading a scroll. More scrolls were stacked on the table at his elbow.
He smiled at Euanthe when she entered.
“We have reports of plague within Athens,” the king said. “The entire city trembles in terror, on the verge of collapse.”
“It is my plague that ravages them.”
“And what of Pericles?”
“He still lives,” Euanthe said. “I released the plague in his household, at a banquet, but he has not fallen ill. I do not know why he survives.”
“It cannot be that the goddess favors him,” Archidamus said. “Perhaps she is only toying with him.”
“Others within Athens plot against Pericles,” Euanthe said. “Like the man to whom I was sold. Cleon.”
“Then the goddess preserves him so that he may suffer this treachery.” Archidamus looked her over and smiled again. “Are you well? How have you endured?”
“I am cold,” Euanthe said. “And very hungry.”
The king called in one of his guards.
“Timon,” King Archidamus said, “Bring the girl bread and meat.”
“Should we raise a tent for her, as well?” the hoplite named Timon asked.
“No,” the king said. “She will sleep here in my tent, under the direct protection of the king.”
Both Euanthe and Timon looked at him with surprise.
“Bring an officer’s cot for her,” Archidamus ordered. “And several of our least filthy fleeces. Hang a curtain there for her.” He gestured at the corner of his tent. “Tell the men to treat her as they would a member of the royal family, and to never touch her, or the curse of the goddess will fall upon them.”
Timon departed.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” Euanthe said. “And your protection.”
“My protection?” Archidamus laughed. “My girl, you are here to protect me. I have enemies among my own people, as Pericles does in Athens. I charge you with the task of striking any who strike at me.”
“Yes, my king,” Euanthe said.
“I am sorry it came to this.” Archidamus poured wine into a wooden cup and passed it to her. Euanthe drank, and it warmed her inside. He drank right from the skin, then wiped his purple lips. “I love the man Pericles, I truly do. He was a great leader in his time. But I have seen him grow addicted to empire, ambitious to rule all of Greece, all of the Aegean, all of Persia. And his people, his democracy, they support this. What we have done—what you have done, Euanthe—is necessary for all of us to live in peace.”
Four young hoplites entered, and one presented Euanthe with a plate of bread and mutton. She ate quickly.
The men constructed her bedroom at one side of the king’s tent, a cot piled high with sheepskins and a curtain wall.
When they left, the king spoke again.
“I suppose we have raided and pillaged enough for one war season,” Archidamus said. “We can leave Athens to rot in its plague. We must return to Sparta for the harvest.”
“My king,” Euanthe said, “I thought you meant to invade Athens. Was that not my purpose, to prepare it for conquest?”
“Your purpose was to bring it to ruin. Athens no longer births great men. When Pericles falls, Athens will be ruled by rats like Cleon, and the Athenian empire will rot and fall from within.”
“But you are pleased with me?”
“By every god, yes, dear girl. In Sparta, you will have a place in my household. I need your capabilities in my hands.” He laughed. “I can hardly have you running around the city unwatched. Now go and sleep. I must speak with my men.”
Euanthe hurried to lay in the bed. The curtain blocked out the light from the oil lamps, leaving her in a warm and comfortable darkness.
King Archidamus discussed with his officers their plans to break camp, steal anything that was worth stealing in Attica, and return home to Sparta.
Euanthe didn’t mind all the men’s loud voices as she fell asleep. She felt safe here. The king knew her purpose, and it was an important one. She had found her place in the world, where the goddess Aphrodite Areia intended her to be.
She thought of the king’s dark, mirthful eyes and careworn face, and how gently he spoke to her, though he was hard and brusque with his men. A deep peace fell over her, and she slept.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Jenny spent Saturday afternoon sculpting some new pottery, listening to the Highwayman record by Willie Nelson, Kris Kristofferson, Waylon Jennings, and Johnny Cash. The song “Highwayman” made more sense to her now than it ever had.
“I’ll be back again, and again…” she sang under her breath, as her fingers worked to create form out of clay.
The phone rang. Jenny grabbed a rag and used that to pick it up, since her fingers were coated and wet.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Jenny, it’s Darcy.”
“How’s Charleston?”
“Good, it’s pretty cool. Seth’s off touring the business school or some junk. This place has all kinds of historical stuff. Did you know it’s the thirteenth-oldest college in the country? I wonder if that’s bad luck, being thirteenth?”
“I hope not,” Jenny said. “There’s enough bad luck in the world.”
“Anywho,” Darcy said, “We’re just, you know, orientating.”
“What’s Seth been doing?”
“Oh, he hung with some of his old school buddies last night. They seem nice.”
“They do?”
“Well, maybe cause I’m pregnant. You know how everybody’s nicer to you when you’re pregnant?”
“Okay,” Jenny said. “But he hasn’t…done anything?”
“Like what?”
“Like hang out with girls, or anything like that?”
“Oh, I don’t think so. Those guys act like pigs. I don’t think any girl would go near them.”
Jenny laughed.
“So, here’s why I’m calling,” Darcy said. “I’ve been feeding Ashleigh’s dog Maybelle, you know? And I forgot to do it last night before we left. So she’s probably really hungry by now.”
“You want me to take care of Ashleigh’s dog?”
Jenny sighed. “Okay, I’ll feed Maybelle. How do I get in the house?”
“The key’s under a fake rock next to the basement door,” Darcy said. “I know cause I used to do everything when the Goodlings went out of town. Feed the dog, clean the aquarium, mop, dust—”
“Fine,” Jenny said. “Just keep Seth out of trouble, okay?”
“Will do. Cheerios.” Darcy hung up.
Jenny opened the back door. Her dad was in the back yard, rebuilding a window-mounted air conditioning unit for somebody.
“Who was on the phone?” he asked.
“Darcy. She wants me to go feed Ashleigh Goodling’s dog while they’re out of town.”
“Seth liking the school?”
“I guess. I haven’t talked to him.”
Her dad straightened up and rubbed his back. He wiped sweat from his forehead and looked at her. “Jenny, what are you planning to do?”
“Feed that dog, I guess.”
“I mean in the big picture of things.”
“I don’t know. Seth wants me to go to Charleston, but that seems dangerous for me, with all them people. And I know his parents don’t want me with him.”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know. I want to get out beyond this town, but where I don’t have to worry about the pox. Like that Appalachian Trail. You can go slow and hike it for months. That sounds nice, doesn’t it? Just walking on and on through the woods, seeing new things every day.”
“It does,” he said. “You could do that.”
“I’d have to do it by myself.” Jenny shrugged. “What do you think I should do?”
“Jenny, you done killed half the town,” her dad said. “You are way beyond anything I understand. And that’s the truth.”
His words hurt her feelings, but he was right. Jenny walked back into the house, thinking about the dead bodies she’d left on the town green. Then her dream, the ancient city filled with the sick and dying. She felt ill, and confused, and very alone.
Later, Jenny pulled into the driveway of Ashleigh’s house. The evening shadows were already long and dark.
As soon as she got out of the car, she felt like she was being watched. She looked around the cul-de-sac. It didn’t look like anybody was home at any house, and one even had a FOR SALE sign in the front yard, which had nearly been swallowed by high weeds.
Jenny walked around to the back yard. It was very secluded, surrounded by old trees with sprawling limbs. A big dry crater yawned open where the duck pond used to be. She hated how isolated and alone she felt, along with that feeling of an invisible eye staring at her from somewhere.
Jenny stopped and looked at the empty pond. She had died down there, and Seth had pulled her out and brought her back. Since then, she’d had occasional jumbled memories about past lives, especially in her dreams. They weren’t like normal dreams, where she was participating and affecting what happened. They were more like movies, or reruns.
Seth didn’t seem to be having these dreams, as far as he could remember.
Jenny felt like she and Seth were growing more distant from each other, and that worried her.
She walked to the lower patio, built next to the basement door. It was occupied by a park bench and Dr. Goodling’s gigantic propane-powered grill. She found the big fake rock next to the door, with the key tucked inside a hollow compartment on the bottom.
Jenny held up the key and looked at the basement door. She didn’t really like the idea of going in through the basement, which looked to be mostly underground. She still felt like she was being watched, but there was nobody around, unless someone was watching her from the windows of the house next door. Nobody had ever lived there, though.
The basement door unlocked with a rusty squeak, as if it hadn’t been used in a long time. Jenny pushed the door inward.
The inside of the basement was a deep gloom. Jenny found the panel of light switches on the wall and flicked each one, but none of them seemed to do anything. It seemed like all the bulbs were burned out, or maybe the fuse.
“Damn it,” Jenny whispered. She would have to find her way in the dark.
Jenny made her way deeper into the basement, her eyes slowly adjusting to the gloom. She tripped over something and sprawled face first, banging her chin on the concrete. She cried out, then looked back to see what had tripped her.
A pink Barbie roller skate, the right size for an eight-year-old girl, trundled across the basement and came to rest against a Christmas tree stand.
Even when dead, Ashleigh was still giving her problems.
Jenny pushed up to her feet and groped forward in the dark, sliding her sneakers along the floor so nothing else could trip her up.
Overhead, she heard footsteps in the house. That must be Maybelle, she thought.
Jenny found her way to the stairs, which were made of unstained boards. She crawled up them on hands and knees, since she could barely see anything more than a few inches ahead of her.
She pushed open the door at the top of the steps.
Immediately, a snarling, furry face filled her range of vision. Maybelle. The Welsh Corgi's mouth opened and closed, but only a hoarse rasping sound came out.
“Hi, Maybelle.” Jenny stood up quickly, and the dog backed off a few steps. Maybelle kept up her pathetic attempts at barking as Jenny stepped into the front hall, closed the door, and found her way to the kitchen.
“Look, I'm here to feed you. Stop freaking out,” Jenny said. The dog's debarked voice bothered her more than actual barking would have.
Jenny opened the pantry and found the thirty-pound bag of dry dog food, and then she found the dog dishes in the laundry room. When she reached for the empty food bowl, Maybelle let out a strangled growl and nipped at Jenny's hand, puncturing her thin summer glove and drawing blood.
“Bitch!” Jenny yelled, but she already felt sorry for the dog. The brief contact, and the slight taste of Jenny's blood, had opened sores along Maybelle's snout. “Aw, crap. I'm sorry, puppy.”
Maybelle scampered away, trying to whimper, and hid herself elsewhere in the house.
“Good girl,” Jenny said. “Stay away from me.”
She dipped the food bowl into the bag and scooped out a heaping mound so she wouldn't need to come back soon. Jenny left the door to the pantry open, too, so Maybelle could get into the big bag if she needed to. Jenny certainly didn't intend to come back—let Darcy check on the dog Monday, and clean up any dog poo on the floor. Ashleigh's house creeped Jenny out.
Jenny glanced into the front parlor, where Maybelle was hiding with her head under a couch, her rump sticking out. The pristine white carpet was already stained with a couple of yellow urine splotches and a pile of dog crap.
Something about the house seemed wrong to Jenny. Everything was put away and cleaned off. There wasn't any dust anywhere, and she could still see vacuum cleaner tracks in the carpet.
Presumably, Dr. and Mrs. Goodling had rushed off to the town square to see about their daughter, who had supposedly been assaulted by Seth. The house looked neatly squared away, though, not one thing left out. Maybe Darcy was keeping up the house, she thought.
Then she remembered one more thing. Last time she'd been here, Ashleigh's Jeep was parked in the driveway, and Ashleigh herself was just a little pile of diseased and broken bones on the front walk.
Today, Ashleigh's Jeep hadn't been there. Jenny's car was the only one in the driveway.
Jenny decided to check the refrigerator, because if the house had really been abandoned for two months, the fridge should be full of mold and rotten food.
She looked inside. Everything seemed new and fresh—the Piggy Wiggly brand milk didn't expire for another week.
“Shit,” Jenny whispered as she closed the refrigerator door. Someo
ne was living here.
She immediately thought of the gray-eyed boy who'd given her and Seth an evening of intense waking nightmares. Ashleigh's opposite. What if he'd never left town? What if he was still here, spying on them? She'd certainly felt like someone was watching her, ever since she stepped out of her car.
For all she knew, there was a big black motorcycle in the garage. Maybe the Jeep was in there, too, or maybe he'd sold it for quick cash.
Maybe she wasn't alone in the house.
In another room, something crashed to the floor. Maybe the dog had knocked something over. Or maybe not.
Jenny swore again as she ran for the basement door, instinctively going back the way she’d come. She took them as fast as she dared in the dark, then ran through the basement and out the door. She closed it behind her, but she didn't bother taking time to lock it.
She ran as fast as she could around the house, picking up speed when she saw her car. Jenny looked around. She couldn't see anybody, but someone could be watching from the upper floors of Ashleigh's house, or maybe one of the empty houses nearby.
She sat down in her car, closed and locked the door. Her hand shook as she tried to fit the key into the ignition.
“Calm down,” she whispered to herself. She inserted the key, cranked the car, and backed out of Ashleigh's driveway without bothering to look behind her.
As she pulled out, she thought she saw something move in an upper window of the house next door, the one that had never been lived in by anybody. But when she turned her head to look, nobody was there.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Jenny pulled into her dirt driveway, relieved to see her dad's rusty old Ram still parked there. After her creepy experience at Ashleigh's, the last thing she wanted was to be alone.
She checked over the fence first, but he wasn't working on the air conditioner anymore.
She ran up the front steps to her house and pulled open the screen door.
“Hey, Dad, I think I'll take one of those hoop cheese sandwiches now.” She walked into the living room. Her dad didn't reply.