by Jo Gibson
Hal gestured toward the case of trophies on the wall. “I don’t suppose . . . no, we’d better not. They belong to the bowling alley.”
“How about using some of those stuffed toys under the tree?” Diana suggested. “We could make up little plaques to hang around their necks.”
Hal nodded. “Good idea. I’ll go get eight of them. Four for the winners and four for the runners-up.”
“Wrong.” Cindy shook her head. “You only need three for the winners. I’m bowling twice, remember?”
“I’ll help you, Hal.” Heather put her bowling ball on the rack, and hurried to catch up with Hal.
“She sure seems different.” Cindy turned to Diana. They were both amazed that Heather had offered to help. “Do you think it’s permanent?”
“I don’t know. She cut her nails, and she seems to love bowling. And she pulled her hair back into a ponytail without even checking the mirror. Those are very good signs.”
“True.” Cindy nodded. “Well . . . let’s just cross our fingers and wait. I didn’t think I’d ever say it, but there may be hope for Heather yet.”
It was a sudden death play-off, with one ball for each contestant. The boys had gone first, and now it was time for the girls to bowl. The boys had proved to be a lot tougher to beat than Cindy had thought. Paul was an excellent bowler, and so was Jay. Even Hal had held his own, although he claimed he’d never done much bowling. The boys would have won, hands down, if it hadn’t been for Larry. Although he had a very good average, his game was really off tonight.
“Uh, oh.” Cindy winced as Larry threw his first strike of the night. “We’ve got our work cut out for us. We all have to bowl strikes if we’re going to win.”
Heather nodded, and gave a deep sigh. “It’s all my fault. I really blew my last three frames.”
“That’s okay, Heather.” Diana patted her on the shoulder. Heather really did look miserable. “It’s just a game . . . right, Cindy?”
“Diana’s right. And you did incredibly well for a beginner. Is your arm getting sore?”
Heather rubbed her arm and nodded. “It is kind of sore. But we need strikes to win, and I’ve got to try.”
“Come on, girls,” Larry called out to them. “It’s too late to plan strategy. Why don’t you just admit you lost and save yourselves the trouble. There’s no way you can all bowl strikes.”
Cindy bristled. “Oh, yeah? Says who?”
“Says me.” Larry put his hands on his hips and his grin held a clear challenge.
Jay walked over to intervene. “Hey, Larry. Don’t give the girls a hard time. We’re not out to prove anything here.”
“That’s right.” Paul walked over to join them. “This is just a friendly tournament. It doesn’t really matter who wins.”
Even Hal got into the act as he walked over to take Larry’s other arm. “Take it easy, Larry. We’re supposed to be having fun.”
“Okay, okay.” Larry shrugged them off. “But there’s no way they can win. Maybe Diana and Cindy can pull off strikes in the pinch, but Heather’s going to bomb. She’s a waste.”
Cindy walked back to join Diana and Heather. She was shaking her head. “Competition really changes Larry’s personality. Jay used to be on a dart team with him, but he bowed out when Larry got nasty with the other teams. He told Jay he was using psychology to rattle them, but Jay thought it was more like a personal attack.”
“But what Larry said is true.” Heather looked very depressed. “I don’t think I could bowl a strike if my life depended on it.”
Heather’s words set Diana’s mind whirling. If Larry was using psychology on them, there had to be some way to turn it around. Suddenly she had an inspiration, and she turned to Cindy and Heather. “We can use psychology, too. Let’s think of somebody we absolutely can’t stand, and pretend they’re standing right in front of the head pin. That ought to give us plenty of motivation to bowl strikes.”
“That’s a really good idea!” Cindy started to smile. “I’ll use Dr. Oliver.”
“But why?” Heather looked puzzled.
“He’s head of the chemistry department. And he made the rule about not allowing students to use calculators on exams. Professor Oliver’s the reason I almost flunked my chemistry final.”
Diana and Heather watched as Cindy got ready to bowl. There was a fierce expression on her face as she picked up her ball and took her place on the lane. Her steps were deliberate as she went into her delivery and the ball flew from her hand with much more force than usual.
“Wow!” Heather’s mouth flew open as Cindy’s ball mowed down the pins. “It worked! You’re up next, Diana. Who are you going to use?”
“I’m not sure.” Diana looked a little embarrassed. Before this bowling tournament had started, she would have used Heather for motivation, but she didn’t feel like doing that now.
“How about me?” Heather grinned at her. “I wouldn’t blame you.”
Diana could feel the blush rising to her face. Had Heather read her mind? “Uh . . . what do you mean?”
“I tried to get Jay away from you. That must have made you mad enough to throw a bowling ball at me.”
Should she be honest? Heather was certainly being very candid. Diana sighed, and then she nodded. “That’s true. I was really mad at you, before tonight. But you seem a lot different now. I think I’ll use Aunt Sharon. She’s always trying to convince my mother that I should go to an all-girls college.”
“Your Aunt Sharon sounds awful!” Heather nodded. “And I’m glad you don’t hate me anymore. I promise I won’t try to break up you and Jay again . . . honest.”
“Ready, Diana?”
Cindy motioned to her, and Diana walked up to get her ball. She did her best to visualize Aunt Sharon’s face as she stood at the end of the lane and concentrated.
“This is for you, Aunt Sharon.” Diana whispered the words as she stepped forward and let the ball fly. Then she closed her eyes and listened as the ball struck the pins with a very satisfying clatter.
“That was great, Diana!”
Diana opened her eyes to see that she’d bowled a strike. Then Heather came up and all three girls grinned at each other.
“Hey . . . this targeting really works.” Heather watched as Cindy picked up her ball. “Are you going to use Professor Oliver again?”
“No. He’s only good for one time. I think I’ll use Rita Carpenter. She’s the beautician who gave me this beastly hair cut.”
Diana and Heather watched as Cindy took her place on the lane. She glared at the pins for a moment, and then she bowled another strike.
“Uh, oh. My turn.” Heather looked scared. “Who am I going to use?”
Diana patted Heather on the shoulder. “Use someone who’s done something mean to you, someone who’s embarrassed you and made you want to cry.”
“Okay.” Heather took a deep breath and picked up her ball. “I know exactly who I’m going to imagine standing in front of those pins.”
Diana and Cindy watched Heather take her place on the end of the lane. Both of them looked a little uncomfortable as they caught a glimpse of Heather’s face. She really looked mad enough to kill.
Heather mouthed something under her breath and stepped confidently to the line. Her bowling ball hit the boards with a solid thunk and flew down the lane to knock over every pin.
“You did it, Heather!” Diana rushed up to hug her.
“Good for you.” Cindy nodded. “Who did you think about?”
Heather grinned at them. “I took your advice and thought about the person who embarrassed me. And I threw that bowling ball straight at Larry’s big mouth!”
“We got prizes for everyone.” Hal handed out the packages. “Since we couldn’t get trophies, we thought these would do.”
Jay grinned as he opened his package. “Oh, great. Just what I wanted. A stuffed something-or-other.”
“At least you put my name on mine.” Larry looked disgruntled as he ripped open his
package.
“But we didn’t!” Diana was puzzled. “We didn’t have time, unless . . . Hal? You didn’t tag them, did you?”
Hal shook his head. “Not me. Heather and I just grabbed seven packages and carried them here.”
“Hey! This isn’t funny!” Larry stared down at his open box. “There’s nothing in here but a packing slip.”
“Here. You can have mine.” Jay exchanged boxes with Larry. “I’ll go out and get another package.”
Diana felt her heart begin to thud in her chest as she waited for Jay to unfold the piece of paper. But he didn’t. He just stuffed it in his pocket, and headed for the exit.
“Wait for me!” Diana stood up quickly, and hurried to catch up with Jay. She knew he was going to look at the paper in private and she wanted to be there.
The moment they were outside the bowling alley, Diana grabbed Jay’s arm. “What does it say?”
“I don’t know. And I’m not sure I want to know. I’m hoping it’s just a packing slip, but I’m not going to look right now.”
Diana nodded, but she shivered slightly as they walked to the Christmas tree. When they were seated on the bench in front of the tree, Jay took the crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and read it.
“Is it from ‘Santa Claus Is Comin’ To Town?’ ” Diana knew the answer, without even asking. There were deep worry lines on Jay’s forehead. He handed her the note without a word, and Diana read it out loud. It was another line from the Christmas carol, even more ominous than the first two.
“He’s making a list and checking it twice; Gonna find out who’s naughty and nice.” Diana shivered and turned to look at Jay. “Who’s doing this? It’s scaring me!”
“I know.” Jay slipped his arm around her shoulders. “That’s why I didn’t let Larry read it. I thought maybe if he didn’t get the note . . .”
Diana nodded. “Right. But do you think it’s just bad luck? Or do you think that . . . ?”
“I don’t know.” Jay interrupted her quickly, before she could finish her thought. “Let’s get a package and go back. I’m going to talk to Larry in private. I’ll tell him about the note and warn him to stay close to us, tonight . . . just in case.”
Diana nodded, and they started walking back to the bowling alley. A chill had invaded her body when she’d read the note, and she was still shivering slightly. Jay’s arm was warm around her shoulders, and it came close to chasing away the chill. But it didn’t. Not quite.
Seventeen
Larry grinned as he walked through the deserted mall. He felt almost like a young teenager again, escaping the watchful eyes of his parents. It was nice of Jay and Diana to be so concerned about him, but they were being ridiculously paranoid. Larry wasn’t a bit worried about the present with the note inside. There were probably a bunch of presents with lyrics from “Santa Claus Is Comin’ To Town” inside. It was someone’s idea of a joke, and the culprit had probably left with the group that had driven out before they were snowbound.
There was a noise behind him, and Larry froze in his tracks. It had sounded like stealthy footsteps, and he turned around quickly, peering into the shadows. Of course no one was there. He was the only one awake. Perhaps Jay and Diana’s paranoia was contagious. For a second there, he’d been almost scared.
Larry had waited until everyone was asleep, and then he’d left the Crossroads Pub. He was thirsty and he’d decided to go to the bowling alley for a beer. He knew that if he’d poured himself a beer at the pub, he might wake Jay and Diana. The last thing he wanted was to wake up the prophets of doom and disaster!
As Larry passed the mall Christmas tree, he gave an amused chuckle. It was pure coincidence that the other two people who’d opened similar packages had been killed. Take Sue, for instance. She’d been drunk, and she’d wandered outside in the worst winter storm of the decade. It was too bad that she’d been standing in the wrong spot when the wind had blown over that planter, but it had been an accident, and the package she’d opened had absolutely nothing to do with her bad luck.
Dave was another case in point. He’d been careless, and that was what had cost him his life. Everyone knew that it was dangerous to stand in a puddle and fool around with something electrical. They taught you stuff like that in grade school! Sure, Dave’s death had been awful, but it had been an accident. And now Jay and Diana were worried because they thought the lyrics in the presents were some sort of omen of impending death.
Larry opened the door to the bowling alley and stepped inside. He didn’t bother to flick on the main lights. There was a dim light over the bar and that was good enough for him. He walked around the bar, drew a glass of beer, and chugged it down. There was nothing like beer when you were thirsty. Then he filled his glass again, and sat down at a table with a view of the interior of the mall.
All the stores were decorated for Christmas, but Larry couldn’t see the window displays in the dark. There was only one bright window and that was in the huge sporting goods store directly across from him. Larry watched their mechanical Santa for a while. It was really fascinating, and he wondered why he hadn’t noticed it earlier.
Santa was sitting in a rocking chair, rocking back and forth as he stared out the window and smiled. Every so often, he would turn his head or touch his beard with his hand. The mechanics were very realistic, and Larry was sure that the sophisticated display must have cost big bucks.
Larry downed his second glass of beer, and got up to pour another. But he didn’t sit back down again. He carried his glass out the door and walked over to the sporting goods store for a closer look at the mechanical Santa.
As Larry watched, the Santa stood up and walked to the window. It was really amazing how real he looked. He turned to the left, and then to the right, seeming to search through the darkened mall for customers. And then he faced straight ahead and smiled, directly at Larry.
Larry smiled back. He couldn’t help it. The Santa looked so real. Of course, he was getting a buzz from his third glass of beer, and that could have accounted for it.
“Hey, Santa”—Larry chuckled and walked closer—“how about if I tell you what I want for Christmas?”
Santa nodded, and Larry chuckled again. He knew the nod was programmed into Santa’s mechanics, but it had come at the perfect time.
“I’d really like a Ferrari.” Larry grinned. “Red with white leather upholstery. What do you think, Santa? Can you fit a Ferrari on your sleigh?”
Santa nodded again. And then he did something that absolutely blew Larry’s mind. His arm came up and he crooked his finger for Larry to come closer.
“Okay, okay. I’m coming.” Larry laughed and stepped closer. “What do you want?”
“Ho, ho, ho!”
Larry took a hasty step back as he heard Santa’s voice, but then he realized that there was no reason why this Santa couldn’t talk. He seemed to be able to do everything else, and the talking feature was probably nothing more than a looped tape fed through a speaker.
“Hey, Santa. Can you say anything else? Ho, ho, ho is pretty boring.”
“Ho, ho, ho!”
Larry laughed and took another sip of beer. “I guess that’s it, huh?”
Santa crooked his finger again, and Larry grinned. He drained his glass of beer, set it down on the floor, and moved up to the glass again. “Okay. I’m here. Now let’s get personal. What do you think I should get my dad for Christmas?”
Santa seemed to consider it for a moment, and then he opened his mouth. “Fishing tackle makes a wonderful Christmas gift.”
“Wow!” Larry blinked, and then he started to grin. “I get it. They programmed you with ads for the store. But my dad doesn’t have time to fish anymore. What else have you got?”
“We have hand-tied flies that will please even the most discriminating fly fisherman.”
“No way!” Larry chuckled as he realized that he was talking to a mechanical doll. But there was no one else here, so it really didn’t matter. “Sorry,
Santa. My dad hasn’t done any fly casting in years.”
Santa took a step forward and smiled. He was so close, his belly was almost pressing up against the glass, and he stared at Larry as he spoke again. “Our flies are tied by a local expert, a man who fished the river that once ran right through this store, the real winner of the tri-city father-andson fishing contest held on this site, twelve years ago.”
Larry didn’t stop to wonder how Santa knew all this. He just moved up until he was nose to nose with Santa. “You’re wrong, Santa. I was in that contest, and my dad and I won first prize.”
“You cheated.” Santa’s eyes glittered dangerously. “You won because you poured glue all over an old man’s tackle box. And you ruined the sport of fly fishing for him.”
Larry was so shocked, he was frozen in place. “But . . . but no one knew about that! What’s going on here?!”
“I’m going to punish you, Larry.” Santa put both palms against the glass. “You’ve been a bad little boy and you deserve to be punished. Ho . . . ho . . . ho!”
Larry’s mouth opened in a soundless scream. But before he could turn and run for his life, Santa pushed against the glass and it shattered, knocking him to the floor. And then Santa was there, standing over him with a stern expression on his face and a long, sharp sliver of glass in his mittened hand.
“No! It was all my father’s idea! And I was just a little kid! I never meant to . . .”
But Santa didn’t give Larry a chance to finish. His hand slashed down with deadly force. And the shard of razor-sharp glass buried itself deeply in Larry’s heart, stilling it forever.
Eighteen
Diana and Jay were sitting in a booth at the Crossroads Bistro, watching the storm outside the windows. The snow had combined with ice crystals to form tiny particles of sleet. The wind drove them against the windows, and they rattled and bounced against the glass. The noise they made reminded Diana of one long drum-roll, building up to something horrible. The tension was unnerving, and it made her want to go back to bed to pull the covers over her head.
