Jack the Stripper

by Jennifer Macaire

  The silence lasted a long time, and then Jeffrey said, “We think so too.” His voice sounded odd.

  “Can you tell me something about it?”

  “No. Listen, I have to go. My wife isn’t feeling well and I want to check on her.”

  Brianna’s face contracted. “I’m so sorry, Jeffrey.”

  “We’ll talk about this later, all right?” He hung up, not giving her time to say goodbye.

  Brianna put her phone back on the table slowly, a strange tingling on the back of her neck. Her instincts were screaming that Jeffrey was hiding something from her about the Heart Taker. What could it be? She’d have to find a way to get him to tell her. She hated secrets.

  Brianna woke up the next morning with a crick in her neck. The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was a piece of paper lying on her blanket, just above her knees. She hitched herself up on her elbows and squinted at her watch. It was just after six. Wincing at the pain in her neck, she sat up and rubbed her head. Then she yawned and picked up the paper. Who could have left that there? Could it have been Jack? She unfolded it, and saw it was a poem written in scarlet ink. Frowning a bit, she read,

  Roses are red, violets are blue. I’ve chosen my next heart...and darling, it’s you.

  It was signed, “Yours truly, the Heart Taker.”

  Hearts might be able to heal if they were broken, but if they went missing it was curtains forever.

  ****

  Brianna didn’t remember screaming. Jack rushed into her room and grabbed her. She grabbed him back. All right, she remembered thinking. Everything is all right.

  But no, nothing was right. The letter sat on her bed and glowered at her, the red ink looking like dried blood. She cuddled deeper into Jack’s reassuring embrace. Then she remembered seeing Jack in the beautiful girl’s arms, and her last night’s resolution.

  “I got letter from the Heart Taker,” she told Jack, pushing him away from her.

  He picked up the letter and looked at it. “You have to call the police.”

  “Right. And after yesterday they’ll never take me seriously.” Brianna could just imagine the looks she’d get.

  “What do you mean, after yesterday?” He perched on the edge of her bed. “What happened? You just left the club without speaking to me. Why didn’t you wait?”

  Brianna dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand. “Look, Jack, I just want to be friends for a while. I think you need time to adjust to your new life and I don’t want to interfere.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “That girl yesterday was very beautiful.”

  “May?”

  “If that’s her name.” Brianna unclenched her fist.

  “That is her name. She’s the zombie I was telling you about. Mr. Ling-Li’s daughter.”

  His words confirmed her worst fears. “I’m glad for you,” she said bravely. “She looks like a lovely person.” She paused. A lovely, glow-in-the-dark person, she added to herself. “Will you be staying with her now?”

  “Staying with her?” Jack raised his eyebrows. “She didn’t say anything about that.” He paused. “She said she had something important to show me.”

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know, so I can’t tell you about it,” he said. He sounded apologetic. He also didn’t meet her eyes and she could tell he was hiding something. Brianna felt tears prick her eyes so she dug her fingernails back into the palm of her hand and smiled brightly. “That’s all right. I understand. Sort of a secret pact between zombies.”

  Jack shook his head. “No, not at all.” He cleared his throat and looked up at her. “This isn’t telling me what happened yesterday. What happened? Mamie Hoya said something about you seeing the Heart Taker. Is that true?”

  For a minute Brianna wanted to pout and say no, that she had her secrets too, but this was too serious. “I think the Heart Taker came to the reservation casino yesterday. I got fired by my client because of it, but I gave my deposition to the police. That’s why I can’t go there with the note. They’ll only think I’m trying to call attention to myself.”

  “But why? You have a note! There might be fingerprints or something!”

  Brianna wished it were so simple. “None of the other notes had fingerprints. And here’s the most important point. All the other notes were found stuffed in the bloody space the victim’s heart had occupied. So if I bring a clean note with no fingerprints to the police station and tell them I found it on my bed, they are going to tell me to go find something else to do with my spare time. And if I do insist, they’ll come here and maybe dust for fingerprints. And whose fingerprints will they find? Some guy’s who has been dead for a while, some dead guy who shouldn’t be out running around the city. So who will they start suspecting? You, Jack. In their minds, you will have become the Heart Taker.”

  “But the Heart Taker killed me. Why should I be like him?”

  “Because of the vampires. Some people became vampires after getting bitten. I bet the police will just figure you’ve turned into the Heart Taker and that you were the one who put the note on my bed. You picked it up. Your prints are already on it. They’ll arrest you and throw away the key.”

  “That’s absurd.” He didn’t sound convinced though. He looked worried.

  Brianna took a deep breath. A horrifying thought suddenly occurred to her. What if Jack had become the Heart Taker? Could he have written this note? She eased away from him warily.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Tell me. Don’t look at me that way.”

  Brianna examined the note. She recognized the writing. Even so, it might not be the Heart Taker. Anyone with a little talent could imitate handwriting. But none of the handwritten notes had been published—only typed examples. Jack had been dead. He couldn’t have seen the writing. She took a pen and a paper from her bedside table and shoved it towards him. “Write, ‘Roses are Red.’”

  His startled, hurt expression stabbed her, but she nodded firmly. “Go on.”

  He did, and handed her the paper. Not the same writing at all. Brianna knew about handwriting. Her grandmother had loved calligraphy. “I had to know,” she said. “The only ones here are you and me.”

  “That’s all right. I understand.” His jaw was drawn in a tight line.

  “Jack …”

  “I said, I understand.” His jaw lost some of its tightness. “You saw the note, didn’t you? The one in my chest.”

  “Yes.”

  “Was it the same writing?”

  “Yes.” She drew her knees up to her chin. “I saw the note, so I saw the handwriting. Hardly anyone else did. As a result the police can accuse me of copying the writing too. Do you understand why I’m not rushing off to show this to them?” Another thought occurred to her. “Jack, what if the Heart Taker saw you? What if he is doing this on purpose? Maybe he’s not really interested in me, but in you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Brianna put her hand to her mouth. “Jack, what if the Heart Taker knows you’re back?”

  ****

  Jack felt his stomach contract. She spoke the truth. He was more like the Heart Taker than he could admit to her. Maybe the Heart Taker did know he was back. Was that possible? Could he be stalking him right now, meaning to kill him again? A chill of worry gnawed at him. He had to tell Brianna the necromancer had put some of the Heart Taker's DNA into him. But if he did tell her, she’d think he was even more monstrous than he already was. What was worse than a zombie? A zombie with super speed who could rip someone’s heart out without being seen.

  He shook his head. He couldn’t tell her anything just yet. “Tell me more about what happened at the casino.”

  After Brianna told him, he thought for a minute. “If the Heart Taker came here last night, I don’t think he did it because he knew I was here. I bet he saw me and he didn’t kill you because I was here.”

  Brianna’s face turned ashen. “I didn�
�t think of that,” she whispered.

  “Here’s what I think happened. He followed you from the casino because you sensed his presence. That’s never happened before. He came here last night intending to kill you, but on his way through the living room, he saw me. Maybe he didn’t even realize it was me until he was in this room. He moves so fast.”

  Brianna shot out of the bed, shoving him aside. She dashed to the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.

  “Brianna, are you all right?”

  “Get out of here. Just pack you clothes and get out of here.”

  Her words would have stabbed him in the heart, had he a heart. “I can’t leave you alone now,” he said, leaning his head against the door.

  “Yes you can. You can go stay with your zombie girlfriend in the sexy, skin tight cat woman suit,” Brianna sobbed.

  Oh. So that’s what Mamie Hoya had meant by the misunderstanding. “Bree, we need to talk.”

  “Don’t call me Bree.” Her voice was muffled. “Oh God, I can’t believe how awful I feel.”

  There was only one thing he could do. It didn’t take long to decide. Brianna was his friend. He trusted her. Jack sat down outside the door and told her everything May had told him about him being part mutant. When he finished, he waited for her to say something. Silence. “Did you hear what I said?” he asked, knocking timidly on the door.

  “Yeah.” The door opened, and since he was leaning on it, he fell in. He caught himself with his good arm though. He had finally started to adapt to his handicap.

  “Brianna, don’t ask me to leave you alone. I won’t. If the Heart Taker has decided you’re going to be his next victim, I’m going to be by your side twenty-four hours a day until I catch that bastard. He killed me. I’m not going to let him get you too,

  Brianna looked at him, her eyes red and swollen, and said, “That is the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.” Then to Jack’s consternation, she burst into tears again and said, “My life is so pathetic.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, following her to her bedroom where she threw herself on her bed.

  “I’m being stalked by the Heart Taker, my boyfriend is a zombie, and I get my thrills patting down suspects.” She pounded her fist into the pillow.

  “What do you mean, you get your thrills patting down suspects?”

  She bit her lip, and then blurted, “I pull guy’s pants down to get a look at their equipment. It’s more satisfying than having a relationship.” She put her hands over her face. “I can’t believe I just said that to you.”

  Jack sat on her bed. “Well, what about my life? I’m a zombie, my arm falls off, and my girlfriend gets her kicks taking other guys’ clothes off.”

  Brianna rolled over and looked at him. “It almost sounds like we’re even.”

  “Yeah. Almost.” Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “I told you everything May said to me. She has a purpose to her life. What do you think I should do?”

  “Isn’t tomorrow night the grand opening for Dee’s club?”

  “Thursday already?” Jack shook his head. “I can’t get over it. I was killed a year ago. I was resuscitated on Monday, and this evening I’m staring in a burlesque show at ‘The Purple Dee.”

  “Do you feel like you missed a whole year from your life?”

  He thought about it. “No. I feel like maybe there’s a week gone, or a month. Did you ever get so sick when you were a kid you had to stay in bed for a long time and when you went back to school, it all seemed strange? That happened to me once. I don’t remember why I was sick, but when I went back to school I had the feeling everyone was different. That’s how it is now.”

  Brianna sat up and took the poem the Heart Taker had left on her bed. She crumpled it up and tossed it into the wastepaper basket in the corner of her room. “Two points. I think you better concentrate on your show. After that, we’ll take it from there.” She gave him a wobbly smile.

  “Still friends?” Jack asked.

  Her smile faded. “Yeah, we’re still friends, but I don’t love you anymore.” She got up and went back into the bathroom, and he heard the sound of the shower running.

  Jack didn’t know what it was about women. You mention the word friend and they deflate like a punctured balloon. When would they understand that for a man, a friend was something special? Lovers he could find anywhere. But friends were as rare and precious as diamonds. He put his face in his hands and sighed. And the Heart Taker had marked one of his friends as his victim. He had better go talk to Jim Ling-Li and find out how to become a monster killer.

  He looked out the window. The river flowed sluggishly by, barges chugging back and forth, foam frothing at their bows. Maybe he’d even get a cool superhero costume. Nothing too flashy. Flash. Flash Gordon. He blinked. The Heart Taker was a sort of Flash Gordon gone to the dark side. He wondered suddenly how many mutants were out there, and how many were good, and why some turned bad. Logically there had to be good mutants out there too, otherwise he and May would have been reborn with evil intent and the urge to kill helpless humans. He didn’t have the urge to kill anyone. Not even the Heart Taker. He’d have to get some handcuffs from someone.

  A barge blew its horn, and another one answered. Like lumbering prehistoric beasts swimming in the river, they passed each other with mournful bellows and curling waves. Then they both disappeared around the bend into the golden morning fog.

  Jack wanted to see Jim Ling-Li, but he couldn’t leave Brianna alone. He also wanted to drop in and see Mamie Hoya again. She’d been so helpful to him, and yesterday after the rehearsal she’d clapped the longest and the loudest. He had to find a way to convince Brianna to come with him.

  She came out of the shower wrapped in several layers of towel and bathrobe. “You’re still in my room,” she said.

  “I feel bad. Because of me, the Heart Taker got in last night.”

  She blinked. “I didn’t even think about that. How did he get in here?”

  “I bet I didn’t shut the door all the way behind me. I was tired after rehearsal, and I must not have closed it hard enough.”

  Her eyes widened. “It wasn’t you. I used the back door and it gets jammed sometimes. I didn’t even think to check. Don’t feel bad.”

  “I feel bad anyway. Stay here, I’m going to go make sure both doors are closed. The Heart Taker might be as fast as light-speed, but he can’t go through doors. If we keep them locked, we should be all right.” Jack looked at the front door but it was locked. It was one of those doors that were always locked, all you had to do is make sure it was shut properly. The back door, however, was slightly ajar. With a frown, he closed it and, because it was a bolt-lock, he bolted it.

  “I think we should leave the back door locked,” said Jack. And you might think about calling a locksmith and installing deadbolts on the front door as well.”

  Brianna sat on the bed looking glum. “I never lock up,” she said. “I never got in the habit of doing that.”

  “And you never got robbed?”

  “Nope. I just figured if they were desperate enough to break in, they would be desperate enough to use a crowbar and there aren’t many locks that can resist a crowbar. Besides, I have nothing to steal. My television is old, my stereo sucks, and my jewelry is all fake.”

  “I remember some things about my old life. When I was about thirteen, I think, someone broke into our house and stole a bunch of stuff. The house was ransacked. My mother cried, my father called the police, and I felt as if everything in my room needed to be washed. I hated the idea of someone I didn’t know coming in and going through my things.” Jack sat on the bed next to her and put his arm around her shoulder.

  “Do you remember your family?”

  “Not really. Just bits and pieces. I know they died in a car accident but I can’t recall how old I was or where it happened. I don’t remember where I grew up—no street names sound familiar here, so I think maybe I was from out of state.” He shrugged.

&n
bsp; “When I met you, you told me you were a student in architecture. You said you were in your last year of college, and that you were looking forward to starting work. I don’t remember you telling me much about your family, or I’d help you out.”

  “Oh, don’t feel bad.”

  “But I do.” She sniffed a bit, and he was surprised to see tears on her cheeks.

  “I don’t want to remember,” Jack said. He meant it. He wanted no regrets, and the best way to avoid them was to avoid his past. What he didn’t know couldn’t come back to haunt him.

  ****

  The day passed slowly. Jack didn’t want Brianna to leave her apartment, so when he went for his rehearsal, she locked the doors and windows and thought about calling her shrink. She’d stopped going to see her a couple months ago. Her health insurance stopped covering it, and she thought that she probably didn’t need her anymore. There was nothing else to say.

  She wondered what her shrink would say if she called up and told her that Jack was back? Would she insist Brianna come right away? Would she lock her up? No one would believe her. Feeling blue, she made herself a cup of instant soup and went to the closet where she kept her old albums. Her parents had died when she was a baby and her grandmother had raised her. She’d lived all her life in this brick apartment building overlooking the docks.

  She sat on the couch and opened the first album, studying the black and white photos her grandmother had carefully pasted and labeled. These strangers were her family, people she never met or hardly knew. For some reason, most had died young. Grave faces stared back at her. Women with neat, bobbed hair, men with moustaches and knickers. Children with serious eyes, pursed lips, and white dresses. Names and dates written in her grandmother’s flowery calligraphy were next to most photographs.

  Brianna preferred the photos of her grandmother. She took the second album, the one with her immediate family, and opened it. It started with her grandmother’s parents, old, faded, sepia photos of her Irish immigrant great-grandparents. There was her grandmother as a child, wearing a Liberty print frock and lace-up boots. Before her eyes, her grandmother grew, turned into a leggy flapper, and got married to a large-boned blond man with a handle-bar moustache—her grandfather Joseph, who Brianna had never known.