by Rick Hautala
“But that has nothing to do with the way you feel,” Graydon said pointedly. “I was talking about how you are handling these recent changes in your life.”
“It’s been ... painful,” Elizabeth said, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay.
“So if this separation from your husband isn’t simply one or both of you ‘growing out’ of the relationship, what do you think caused it?” Graydon asked.
Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered as her gaze went past the doctor and out the window. She couldn’t see the ocean, just a square of bright blue sky; but she found it almost comforting, just knowing the ocean was out there. She imagined herself a tiny white dot of a sea gull, spiraling — free! — high above the raging surf.
“Well, you see,” she said, her voice low and raspy, “my husband and I . . lost our daughter.”
Like a jolt of electricity ripping through her body, the memory of that night came rushing into her mind. She barely maintained control of her voice as she began to relate what had happened that night.
“It was late, well after nine o’clock, when Doug and I and Caroline started for home. We’d been visiting my parents during February school vacation and had planned on staying the whole week, but on Thursday afternoon, Doug started in, complaining that he needed some books that were back home for some lesson plans he was working on and that he wanted to leave for home — the sooner the better. I strongly suspected this was a ploy of his to get away from my parents’ house, because I’d always known my parents — especially my father — didn’t really like Doug.”
“You say you knew,” Graydon interrupted. “Had the two of you spoken about it?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No — I just knew. There was always tension whenever we visited my folks. It kinda put me in a bind because I knew Doug didn’t like to visit, but I wanted my parents to see as much of Caroline as they could, you know?”
Graydon nodded.
“Anyway. against my and Caroline’s protests, after supper we packed our suitcases into the Subaru, intending to head back. But as evening fell, the blizzard the weathermen had been predicting all day finally hit. Within an hour, the roads were slick with a fresh coating of wet snow.
“I kept asking Doug if he didn’t think we should at least wait till morning, till the roads were clear, but he insisted we start out then so he could have all day the next day to work on his lesson plan. Caroline, who always loved to visit Grammy and Grampy, tried to add her weight to the decision, but Doug held firm.
“We started out — I guess sometime just before ten o’clock. Caroline should have been asleep in bed by then, so she snuggled up in the backseat while Doug drove. I was sulking in the passenger’s seat. I wanted to let him know how angry I was, but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to disturb Caroline. I guess I was afraid of what I might say once I got started.
“As usual, we headed up Route 22 toward Route 202, but a mile or so out of town, on Old County Road, Doug lost control of the car on a sharp corner in South Buxton. Maybe you know where I mean. There’s a little church right there on the left.” Graydon shook his head and by his silence encouraged her to continue.
“Well, I always figured Doug’s foot slipped off the brake and hit the gas, because I remember the engine started whining real loud. The car did a complete three hundred sixty turnaround as it slid off the road as smoothly as if the road had been greased. If it hadn’t been for the head-high plow ridge, we would have gone careening down into a deep tree-lined gully.
“I remember I kept repeating ‘Good move ... real good move!’ as I leaned into the back seat to comfort Caroline. She had woken up crying because she was confused by the sudden lurching motion of the car. I remember thinking at the time that it was a good thing she’d been wearing her seat belt. Once the car was buried in the snow bank, I asked Doug one last time if he would consider heading back to my folks — at least until the storm was over — but he remained adamant.
“Swearing and swatting his hands at the storm, Doug pulled on his gloves and got out of the car to inspect the situation. The front of the car was jammed deep into the plow ridge. The light from the headlights was diffused from underneath the snow, and when I got out of the car to join him, I clearly remember hearing the sizzle of snow, melting as it landed on the car hood, hot from the running engine. And then ... then —”
Elizabeth fell silent as the full force of the terror of that night came roaring back at her like a train out of the darkness ...
4.
“Goddammit!” Doug shouted, slamming his gloved hand against the fender hard enough to dent the metal. “Look at where the fucking car is!” He sucked in a short breath and then hammered his fist against the car again. “No sweat, though. I think if you can steer, 1 can push us out of here. “
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Elizabeth said, “I think it’d be a bit smarter to wait for a cop or a tow truck or something.”
“How soon do you think that will be on this stretch of road?” Doug yelled. Elizabeth knew he was really angry at himself and his own half-assed driving, so she didn’t shout back, After glancing at Caroline in the backseat and reassuring her that mommy and daddy were all right, and no, they weren’t really arguing, she went around to the driver’s door, got in, and sat behind the steering wheel. She knew there was no convincing Doug.
“Now don’t go stepping hard on the Goddamned gas,” Doug shouted, frowning deeply as he leaned down and braced himself to start pushing.
“You mean don’t do what you just did, huh?” Elizabeth said under her breath.
The car rocked back and forth as Doug shoved against it. With the driver’s door still open and her left foot out on the snowy ground, Elizabeth eased down on the gas, silently praying that the rear tires would catch and pull the car back onto the road, snow covered as it was; then — maybe — Doug would calm down enough so that she could convince him to head hack to Bristol Mills.
What happened next happened so fast that it was nothing more than a fuzzy, black blur illuminated by stinging spikes of light.
There was a sudden blast of flashing light in the rearview mirror. Turning, a scream already issuing from her mouth, Elizabeth saw bright yellow headlights, like the angry eyes of a demon, bearing down on her from behind. She yelled something — she didn’t know what — and turned just in time to see Doug leap away from the car. Something slammed into the rear of the car like a pile driver. Elizabeth was thrown forward and hit her head hard on the edge of the steering wheel. More lights. Brighter lights, exploded inside her head upon impact. and she was just barely conscious as the plow of the town highway truck scooped up the Subaru and carried it up and over the plow ridge as easily as if it were a Tonka toy.
She heard shrill screaming, but she was never sure if it was her own or Caroline’s. All she knew was that — suddenly — she was flying through the wind-whipped snow. and tht:n her flight abruptly ended with a chill when she landed face-first in the snow.
She knew she was screaming when she scrambled to her feet and watched, horrified, as the snow plow carried the family car down the hill and into the gully. The steep slope of the land was brilliantly illuminated by the truck’s headlights and bright orange flashers. The taillights blinked intermittently bright red as the driver pumped the brakes. It might have been the shrill whistle of the storm wind or the snow plow’s brakes, but Elizabeth was positive she heard Caroline crying out as the car and snow plow roared down toward the frozen stream. Caroline’s last words echoed endlessly in the raging blizzard-
“Mommy! ... Help! ... Mommy! ... “
Elizabeth stumbled forward as though she were drunk. Her arms flailed wildly, punching back and forth as she labored to push her way through the snow in the wake of the snow plow. The bright orange flashers on the back of the truck painfully stabbed her eyes as she watched both vehicles tumble down in slow motion over the drop. She watched in horrified silence as the plow flipped over, and its full weight came crashing down
onto the Subaru’ s front end.
Elizabeth was still screaming when Doug caught up to her. She grabbed him by the arms and shook him. screaming her agony and terror as they both helplessly watched the car and truck finally stop their tumble and come to rest more than a hundred feet off the road. In either her ears or her mind, Elizabeth could still hear Caroline’s cries —”Mommy! ... Help! ...”
Looking down at the flattened wreck of the car, Elizabeth thought she saw Caroline’s face in the rear window. Her eyes and mouth were nothing more than round, black holes in the blur that floated behind the glass.
There was a short burst of angry crackling as gasoline splashed from the truck’s ruptured gas tank onto the Subaru. A blinding second later, the snow plow exploded. A huge ball of orange/lame and billowing black smoke leaped into the night sky to be swallowed by the storm. Thicker smoke rolled out from under the overturned truck. Then there was a second, louder explosion as the intense heat ignited the Subaru’s gas tank.
Before she passed out and fell to the ground, Elizabeth was dimly aware that Doug was no longer standing beside her. As darkness swelled around her, pulling her down, she was positive she could still hear Caroline’s screams, echoing in her ears. Even though she knew full well that the explosions andfiames had silenced her daughter’s cries ... forever!
5.
“ ... Then a snow plow came roaring around the comer, smashed into the car, and exploded.” Elizabeth’s voice hitched, but she forced herself to continue. “Caroline died instantly ... At least, I find myself hoping so.” Tears swelled in her eyes. She covered her face with her hands, muffling her voice. “I have to believe that!”
“Well,” Graydon said, in the lengthening silence. He shifted uneasily in his chair. “The loss of a child is certainly tragic, and it certainly goes a long way in explaining why your marriage might not hold together.”
Elizabeth’s eyes glazed over as she looked up at Graydon, her mind dredging up — again — the horrors of that night. Tears flowed freely from her eyes. She reached blindly for the box of Kleenex on the coffee table, got a tissue, and then buried her face in it. Her shoulders shook and her lungs ached as grief and pain filled her, seeking an outlet. It startled her when she felt Graydon’s hand come to rest reassuringly on her shoulder.
“The loss of a child — or anyone close to you — is something I feel certain no one can ever really get over,” he said, lowering his voice until it was barely more than a comforting buzz. “Believe me. I know from personal experience. And I would chance to say that the agony stays with you your whole life ... unless you find you can do something to get rid of the blocks that allow it to ruin your life. And —” He took a deep breath, sat back down in his chair, and rubbed his strong-looking hands together once he seemed assured the worse of Elizabeth’s emotional outburst was over. “I believe that’s what therapy can do. It can only help you if you’re brave enough to face your grief, and then do something to settle it in your mind and overcome it.”
When he said the word do, he brought his fist down into his opened palm so hard it made a loud, wet, smacking sound. Elizabeth was startled, but the sudden burst of positive energy she felt coming from Graydon, even in spite of her internal agony, made her smile slightly.
“Now I’m not saying I’m necessarily the therapist for you,” Graydon went on, leaning back and glancing momentarily at the ceiling. “As a matter of fact, I always encourage my prospective clients to do a bit of comparative shopping. I can give you the names of several other highly qualified therapists in the area if you’d like.”
Elizabeth wasn’t sure why, but she instantly shook her head. “Oh, no,” she said. “Dr. Gavreau recommended you to me, and I think ... I think we can probably work well together. That is, if you’re willing to work with me.”
“I’d like nothing better,” Graydon said quickly. He looked at her with an intense stare.
Surprised by his quick acceptance, Elizabeth frowned and regarded him carefully. “Just like that?” she asked, snapping her fingers.
“I’ll give it careful consideration, then,” Graydon said, smiling widely, “if it makes you feel better. After a day or two, why don’t you give me a call to set up another appointment?”
“I will,” Elizabeth replied. She was surprised that she was being so forward, but she took this as an indication that she was comfortable working with Graydon. When she stood up to leave, and Graydon went to get her jacket from the coatrack, she wondered what it was that made her feel so inclined toward him, Maybe, she thought, it was simply that she felt a sense of empathy from him concerning her loss, He might help set her free ... as free as those sea gulls she had seen, white specks circling against the blue.
6.
“What the fuck is this?” Frank snarled as he walked up to his partner, who was standing in the parking lot behind the Bristol Mills police station with Ed Phillips, the night dispatcher, and Chuck Willis, the desk sergeant. “You guys having a cops’ convention or what?”
It was three o’clock in the afternoon, an hour before his shift began, and Frank had had to stop short to avoid running over the three men.
“This is something you’d sorta expect to have happen in Hitler’s Germany, not Maine,” Willis said, pointing to a freshly spray painted piece of graffiti on the wall.
“Come on, Chuck,” Norton said, snickering. “That ain’t no Star of David. This here’s a pentagram. It’s something they use in witchcraft stuff, I think.”
“When’d this happen?” Frank asked. He frowned deeply as he scanned the uneven five-pointed star.
All three men shrugged, and then Norton said, “Must’ve been sometime last night. I ‘spoze we didn’t notice it in the dark when we got off duty. Ed was the first one who spotted it this morning. “
“Who in the hell would do something like this?” Willis asked, still scratching his head. Frank found himself wondering if Willis’s habitual scratching was out of perplexity or due to scalp problems.
“It ain’t nothing but a Goddamned prank, that’s what I think,” Ed said with a snarl.
Frank and Norton exchanged meaningful glances, and then Frank cleared his throat and said, “If you fellas have heard about what Norton and me found out to Oak Grove last night, you might think otherwise. “
“What?” Willis asked. Yesterday had been his day off, and he had obviously not yet heard about the “incident” at plot 317. In as few words as possible, leaving out the more gruesome details, Frank filled him in.
“Well, then, Jesus H. Christ! No wonder,” Willis said excitedly. For about three seconds, he stopped scratching his head, then he started up again. “I’ll bet you, sure as shit, there’s one of them witchcraft — what d’yah call ‘em? Convents or covenants or whatever.”
“You don’t mean covens, do you?” Ed asked.
“Yeah — whatever,” Willis replied. ‘‘I’ll bet that’s who did this.”
“I think this is serious,” Frank said, frowning as he squinted at the dripping red lines of freshly applied paint. The pentagram covered an area roughly six feet by six feet. “Someone tall enough to reach this high did it. I don’t think it’s any kid’s prank.”
“Come on, Frank, lighten up, “ Norton said, slapping him good naturedly on the shoulder. “You’re still just freaked out from last night.”
Frank turned to his partner and was about to say something about Norton puking all over his shoes, but he decided to let it pass. Pointing at the muddy tire marks on the asphalt, he said to Willis, “I’ve got a report to write up and file before I head mit, but if I was you, I’d get a lab tech to take a few snaps of these tire tracks. Who knows? Maybe one of ‘em will match up with the ones we found out in the cemetery last night.”
“You just drove over them,” Norton said.
Cocking an eyebrow, Frank said, “Yeah, well I didn’t see any of you guys flagging me away, either.”
“Yeah, I’ll get a tech out here right away,” Willis said, running hi
s fingertips over his ears; but he and none of the other men moved from where they stood as Frank turned and walked into the station to fill out his report.
THREE
Toys in the Attic
1.
During the drive home from Graydon’s, Elizabeth had plenty to think about as she evaluated her new therapist. She was fairly certain she would work with him, especially since Dr. Gavreau had recommended him so highly; and anyway, it was just a doctor patient ... no, make that doctor — client relationship. Although the intimacy of a relationship like that could get quite intense, it wasn’t as if they were getting married. She had to admit that the longer she had been with Graydon, the more she had come to recognize that he had quite a magnetic, almost hypnotic charm about him.
Just be careful. she warned herself.
When she got back home, just after three o’clock, she was relieved to find that both of her parents were out. Her mother had left a note on the kitchen table, informing her she had gone to Portland for groceries. Elizabeth crumpled up the note and tossed it into the wastebasket. Her father was probably working outside or gone for supplies.
She sat down at the kitchen table and let her mind wander as she gazed blankly out the window and over the field to the woods beyond. She already felt committed to work with Graydon, and she knew that this meant she would in all likelihood stay with her parents, at least for the time being. And that meant she would soon have to start looking for a job; she had no intention of freeloading off her parents indefinitely. Rather than rush the future or dwell too long and hard on the past, as Dr. Gavreau had told her, she decided for now, at least — just to let things unfold in their own time, to see what would happen without her pushing one way or another.
