Death Rhythm

by Joel Arnold

  As the three of them sat in the dining room, Mae banged her glass on the table, rose from her seat and said just that. "Into battle!"

  Into battle.

  The three of them to do battle with Natalie and Hector.

  Isn't it funny that she puts it that way? Because, really - all they want to do is talk to them. Just talk to the two of them and try to straighten this whole thing out. Into battle? I suppose, Andy thought, that you have to think of it that way. This confrontation could be hell. So best to psyche yourself up. That's what Mae's doing. Psyching herself - all of us - up.

  So into battle it will be.

  Andy took a sip from his glass of water, noticing for the first time how dry his throat was. He drained the rest of the glass in one lone gulp. Suck up that water and into battle.

  Jesus, he really didn't want to do this.

  But into battle it must be.

  Here's what you do, he thought. When you go over there and Hector starts screaming and ranting, just ignore the bastard. Ignore him, act like you can't hear him. Let the screams pass through the ears like a breeze. The shouts can be like the mist in the air, and it will pass through the brain with no more than a slight chill.

  Yes, ignore the son of a bitch and let Mae do all the talking. That's what she's good at, and she's the one who really wants this, anyway. She's the one who wants to do battle.

  But Natalie. What about Natalie? Will you be able to face her again? Look into her eyes after what you've done? Will you be able to handle that? Hector's screaming, yes, but Natalie? Maybe block her out, too. If that's at all possible. Don't look into her eyes. Don't listen to her eyes. Don't feel her eyes shoot icicles into you. Because that is what she will do. Bombard you with her stare of hurt and hate and that deep rooted grudge.

  So just ignore that, too.

  Ignorance is blisters on your mind, maybe, but blisters that you can deal with later.

  "Andy." It was Mae. "Did you hear me, Andy?"

  Andy looked up from the table.

  "Can you do this? Can you talk to her? We need you to talk to her, Andy, because you're the bridge between us, you can make her shake off that grudge." Mae looked hard into Andy's eyes. "Can you do this?"

  Andy looked at his water glass and held it up, looking at it in the sunlight filtering in through the dining room window.

  "I'm thirsty," he said, and got up, went into the kitchen, and turned on the water faucet, filling his glass with the metallic tasting liquid, pouring it into his mouth, and filling his glass again and again.

  FORTY-ONE

  Edna's eyes, the distant eyes, the gone eyes. The forever gone eyes.

  So she knows.

  Into battle. Is that what she wants? Is that what Mae wants?

  Into battle, against the mighty Hector and Natalie fair.

  Edna giggles to herself.

  She freezes. The giggles, the laughter inside surprises her, frightens her.

  She had kept it back, way back, in an unused, unwanted drawer in the chest of her mind. Or was it a trash bin?

  The years in the mental institution had taught her that. Stuff it away. Stuff it away and play their game.

  She knew their game. She could see their game. And she suppressed the giggles the best she could.

  At first it was impossible. The silly patients there. The nuts. And she had been a nut, too. A nut, and the world was one big fucking acorn tree and who cared?

  But better to not be in there, in the institution, because they made you eat what they wanted you to eat, when they wanted you to eat, and she had, she had, she had. She'd done what they had told her to do, said what they wanted her to say, and this nut, she thought, this nut was going to get out of there.

  And it wasn't easy. At first.

  But then she'd had quite a spell of luck, hadn't she? Coming on to her shrink, and think, just think - him coming on to her.

  Why, after that it was so easy. Love is easy to act out if it means freedom. And here, freedom it would be.

  How did she act sane? Well, she really was sane, wasn't she? Everyone is sane, really. Just be the opposite of the nut you are.

  Just turn into shy, quiet Edna - just stuff it, stuff it, stuff it, and come on to your shrink, and maybe, just maybe through your feigned vulnerability, he'll fall in love with you.

  And you know what? Edna thought, remembering all this as she walked through the house, their house, her childhood house. You know what?

  It worked.

  It worked. As simple as that, it worked.

  Her psychiatrist soon fell in love, and Edna learned more about psychology than she ever had before. She learned which buttons to push. She learned how to get a psychiatrist to sleep with her, push, push, push, and to propose to her, push, push, and to get her out of that fucking loony bin, big fucking push! She pressed the right buttons in the right order and poppo and presto, a wedding band on her finger and boff bang pow, a child, a child, her Andy. Her baby, her baby.

  With Andy came the realization that she no longer needed her husband. No longer needed Abner Byrd. Now she had Andy.

  And push, push, push, she pushed her husband into oblivion, into the back of her mind, into death.

  Push, push, push, the poison she used on him pushed that big death button, and it had been rather easy, hadn't it? Rather easy.

  Quite easy.

  Until she realized Andy wasn't really a doll, was he? She realized that she really did love Andy after all, didn't she? And raising Andy all by herself wasn't so easy, was it?

  Raising Andy had changed her. It made her act become more real, and Edna was losing the real Edna and becoming a new Edna, an Edna who was quiet and shy and who really did love, really did love her baby, her baby boy, her Andy.

  Edna had grown up.

  My god, Edna thought as she walked through this house. I grew up. I grew up.

  She did grow up, and it wasn't like she was pushing buttons anymore, it wasn't like she had to act anymore. The old Edna had gone into hiding, and the hiding process had been so gradual. The hiding process developed with each diaper she changed, each breast she offered to Andy as he suckled and grew.

  The old Edna took a long, long lunch break. Gradually, yes. So gradual that Edna hadn't realized it. Hadn't realized it until now, or at least until she saw that old mortician's table in the shed, standing there like a beacon.

  And the old Edna had peeked out. Peeked out from her hiding place for a brief moment. A brief peek-a-boo, how do you do.

  Edna giggled again. Or was it the old Edna who made her giggle?

  Andy no longer needed her, that was for sure. Andy no longer needed Edna, old or new.

  Why had she come here, then? Why had she driven so far in the middle of the night after so many years gone by, why, why, why?

  Was it because the only thing, the only one she really loved, had gotten a glimpse of the old Edna?

  Peek-a-boo.

  Andy had gotten a peek of the old Edna. Had snuck behind her back and got right into her mind via Mae, stupid Mae, and had tugged at the old Edna.

  Peek-a-boo.

  But why come now? What difference if Andy knew of her past? The only one she loved, the only one she ever loved.

  Peek-a-boo.

  She felt raped. There was no need for Mae to dig out the old Edna-tumor, reach in the back of her head while she wasn't looking and hand the old Edna-tumor to Andy like a trophy, some precious silver wrapped gift done up in pretty silk bows. No need for Andy to take that tumor and desecrate it with his judgments. No need.

  Edna wanted it back. Give it back to me, she thought. Give it back to me, Andy, and forget what you have witnessed of my mind so that I can go back to loving you guilt-free and with a clean conscience. Put the tumor back inside my brain and pretend it was nothing so I can love you, even if you don't need me, I can love you.

  Ahhhhh, she realized. He won't give it back. He can't. It's on him with vice-like suction cups and only I can extricate it from his being.
Only I can take it back. And I will take it back, so help me, Andy - Mae. So help me, I'll put the old Edna back where she belongs. Just you watch me.

  Peek-a-boo.

  Edna couldn't help herself and giggled.

  FORTY-TWO

  The three of them stood at the edge of Mae's property, looking across the field of dead weeds and grass at the red brick house that belonged to Natalie and Hector Plant. Mae's eyes were hard set and determined. Edna's eyes stared at the sun, low on the horizon and descending. Andy's eyes roved back and forth across the field between the two properties.

  "Well, come on," Mae said. "Let's go."

  "Into battle," Edna mumbled, barely suppressing a giggle.

  They strode out across the field, the three of them, the pressure in the air dropping, they felt it drop. They felt it in their ears, the pressure causing a dull throb at the base of their skulls. The temperature had dropped, too. Clouds closed in. The sun raced away from them on its descent.

  The brown, dead weeds and stalks of grass brushed at their slacks like brittle fingers, trying to hold them back. The crisp exoskeletons of plants crushed beneath their feet, popping and crackling like cereal.

  Finally, the three of them stood at the bottom of the three cement steps that led to the door of Hector's house. Mae started to walk up, reaching out her hand to knock, when the door flew open. Mae recoiled, backing up quickly, running into Andy who barely kept her from falling.

  "Goddamn you!" Hector's voice boomed as he wheeled out onto the top step. "Goddamn you! I'm gonna kill you!" He maneuvered around the step so that the door closed behind him. He picked up a kitchen knife from his lap.

  Everyone stood still as Hector teetered on the edge of the top step. Then Mae said, "Hector, put that down. You can't be serious."

  "I swear, I'm gonna kill you and your nephew and your - " He noticed Edna for the first time, and his muscles went limp. "You," he said, his hand shaking, the knife reflecting the sun glimmering on the horizon.

  "Hello, Hector," Edna said. "How are you doing? Cat got your tongue? Or is it the other way around?"

  "You," was all Hector could manage.

  Natalie's silhouette appeared behind him in the screen door. "Oh, god." She could only open the door a quarter of the way, but it was enough for her to slip out on the step next to Hector. "Dad." She noticed the kitchen knife in his lap, cradled in a limp, arthritic hand. Then she saw Edna. "Edna?" Her jaw dropped.

  Mae spoke. "We've come to talk to you and Hector."

  Hector let go of the kitchen knife and put his hands to his face, the knife lying on his lap.

  "We've got to stop this ridiculous crap," Mae continued. "We have to stop this grudge. We have to get on with our lives."

  "Go away," Natalie said. "Look what you're doing to Dad."

  "I'm sorry," Mae said. "But if we come again some other time, it will be the same thing. We have to confront this thing now."

  "Please, just go away." Natalie grabbed onto the handlebars of Hector's wheelchair. She looked at Andy, her eyes misting over. "I'm sorry, Andy."

  Andy could barely look into her eyes. "I'm sorry," he said.

  "Just go away. Leave us alone."

  Hector began to sob. His head jerked back from his hands in short, quick gasps.

  "Please leave us alone," Natalie said. "Can't you see what you're doing to him? I'm sorry, Andy. Mae. But we can't talk now."

  Edna giggled. All eyes turned on her. "Sorry," she said, putting her hand to her mouth. She bit down on her fingers, but more giggles slipped through the cracks between her knuckles. "Sorry," she said again, then burst out laughing. She threw back her head and let the laughter ring out. She grabbed onto her sides, waving at the air with both hands. "Sorry!" she said again. "Sorry?" she howled. "I'll tell you one thing," she managed to say as she tried to catch her breath. "I'm not sorry! How do you like that?"

  Mae reached out for Edna. Edna waved her away, taking a step backward. "I'm not sorry one bit," she said, laughing, laughing, holding onto her sides. "Not one bit!"

  Hector stopped sobbing and lowered his hands from his face.

  "Edna," Mae said. "You shut up right now."

  "Not sorry one damn bit!" Edna hollered. "Not one fucking bit!"

  Andy stood slack-jawed, while Hector grasped onto the wheels of his chair. Edna continued to laugh hysterically. Hector tried to roll forward, but Natalie held on to his handlebars. "Let go," he said. "Let go, goddammit!"

  "Stop," Natalie said.

  Edna continued to laugh. "Not one teeny, tiny, fucking bit!"

  Hector's face turned beet red. Every vein, every muscle stood out on his neck. He picked up the knife with his left hand and continued to work on the wheel with his right. "Let go!" he yelled.

  "Stop this!" Mae demanded.

  The world became one screaming, shouting, whirling dervish to Andy. He couldn't hear any words, just a wall of noise. Like a thousand flies buzzing in an old stone building. A high-tension wire come out from hell and plugged into his head. Natalie, Hector, and Mae moved in slow motion, and that was okay. He could stand that. But when he turned to look at his mother, she was no longer there. In her place was a monster, Big Ed, Big Fucking Ed, come back from the dead, and she was a mass of hysterical laughter in super-slow motion. Her head was tilted far back on its hinges, and her mouth was gaping open, and deep, deep in the cavern of her throat, Andy saw them, saw the millions of flies, all buzzing, all flying there.

  And in the space of seconds, seeming to Andy like years, he lunged at Edna, at Big Ed.

  Hector, meanwhile, slashed at Natalie's hands with the kitchen knife, and she pulled away from the wheelchair in reflex.

  Mae stood wide-eyed, not knowing where to turn. She tried watching Hector and Natalie, and at the same time, Edna and Andy. She brought her hands up to her ears, screaming, "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" She turned in circles, not knowing which direction to face, when to stop.

  Andy lunged at Edna's throat, his hand reaching out, clasping at her neck, tying to stop that buzz, those flies. Edna stepped quickly to the side, and Andy stumbled forward, tripping over his own feet, falling face forward onto the grass.

  Mae continued to turn in circles. "Stopitstopitstopit!" she yelled, and suddenly it was easier, so much easier, to lock it away, just lock it all away.

  Hector shot forward over the first step, one hand raised in the air holding the kitchen knife. His wheelchair flew towards Mae, and Hector slashed at her, but the momentum didn't carry him far enough to reach, and the knife slashed inches in front of Mae's face. Mae didn't seem to notice. Hector's wheelchair somersaulted, throwing Hector, trapping him beneath.

  Edna looked down at Andy, saw him lying there, and continued to laugh. She turned and saw Natalie run down the steps toward an entangled mass of body and wheelchair lying at Mae's feet. A pool of blood formed beneath Hector's crumpled body.

  Andy slowly got up, taking years, it seemed, pushing himself up from the grass, rising to his feet, and lunging for his mother, for Big Ed, once again.

  Natalie reached under Hector, pulling his body up with one hand, and pulling the knife from his chest with the other.

  "Lock it away lock it away lock it away," Mae said out loud, but she didn't hear herself anymore, couldn't hear anything except the beat of her own heart pumping through her veins.

  Natalie looked at the knife, Hector's blood dripping from it, and wiped it on her shirt. She ran toward Edna, the knife rising slowly in her hand.

  This time, Andy made contact with his mother's throat, clasping his fingers tightly. Her laughter continued in short quick bursts, as Natalie flailed at her with the kitchen knife. Edna grabbed Natalie's wrist before the knife made contact with her, and turned the knife around as Andy continued to choke her. The knife plunged into Natalie. She let out a sharp cry, a look of surprise on her face.

  Andy continued to choke Big Ed.

  Big Ed continued to laugh.

  She pulled the knife from Natalie and
Natalie fell to the ground.

  Mae turned in circles. "Lock it away, lock it away."

  Edna's laughter faded as she slowly turned the knife around again, this time toward Andy, her only son, her honey bun, her baby doll, once and for all.

  "Andeeeee," she croaked, spittle flowing onto Andy's hands, which tightened around her throat. "Andeeeee, you motherfucker, let go of me. This is your mother speaking to you, baby." She slashed at her son's fingers, cutting into his left hand. Andy didn't let go.

  "Andeeeee," she said, barely able to get the words out now. "My baby. My baby," she said, and slashed violently at his fingers again.

  This time, Andy jerked his hand away, and the knife went into her own throat, into Big Ed's throat, and she dropped the knife, a jet of blood shooting from her neck. Andy let go of her and watched her fall slowly to the ground, clutching her throat, scratching at her throat, trying to push the blood back into her neck.

  Edna slowly died while Mae slowly stopped ranting and circling, while Andy dropped over Natalie, holding her lifeless body.

  Mae dropped to the ground and sat cross-legged on the grass.

  Andy picked up Natalie, lifted her from the ground, and slung her over his shoulder.

  Mae found her voice. "Wait, Andy. Don't. Put her down."

  It was too late. Andy carried Natalie across the field of dead weeds and grass and propped her up in the passenger seat of his car. He walked to the other side and got in, turned on the motor and drove away. Mae sat and watched his taillights dissipate as the sun disappeared.

  FORTY-THREE

  Andy drove slowly with Natalie propped up in the passenger seat, her lifeless eyes reflecting the dashboard. Andy turned down the dirt road by Mae's property. He drove slowly, too slow to kick up any dirt, his eyes fixed on the beam of the headlights. He turned right, through heavy wrought iron gates, into the cemetery. He parked next to the stone building and got out of the car. He walked to the passenger side and lifted Natalie out. Propped her against a headstone.