by Glenn Rolfe
The front door opened and closed..
He shot up beside November as Julie stormed into her room across the hall and slammed the door.
“Should you check on her?” November asked.
Damn it, Julie.
“Yeah, hold on.”
He pressed the front of his pants to help ease the pressure there.
He crossed the hall and knocked.
“Julie? Are you okay?”
“Leave me alone, Rocky. Just go.”
“Are you sure?”
“Please, I just want to be alone, okay?”
He returned to his room and shrugged.
“Maybe we should go out?” November said.
He cast a glance toward his bed.
She reached up and thumbed his bottom lip. “Later,” she said. “Grab your trunks. I want to go swimming.”
* * *
It was nearly six by the time Marcy got back from Portland and made it to her friend Brenda Hersom’s house. She’d promised to bring her the latest Stephen King book from Mr. Paperback. Brenda had broken her foot at the beach a few weeks back, and Marcy had helped her out. Brenda’s husband, Gus, worked sixty hours a week at the shipyard, so Marcy had offered to help out where she could. She didn’t know what the woman found to like about cheap horror books. This one weighed half a ton and looked bigger than the Good Book. The title, IT, creeped her out. The cover featured a child’s paper boat floating toward a storm drain. It was absolutely sinister.
By the time she escaped Brenda’s she had maybe an hour of daylight left. She needed to collect her things from the Segers’, but the thought of getting caught or stuck inside after dark made her want to run straight home, down her wine, and hide in her bed. Let them find her camera. Let them have her arrested. It was a better alternative to roaming the streets with all the shadows and ghouls.
She thought of John Chaplin. Still missing.
Sitting in her car, Marcy saw Brenda wave from the porch, then smile as she opened the cover to her new nightmare.
I’m being silly again. There’s nothing out there. She didn’t believe it even as she thought it. I’m just going to rush in, make sure the cat still has food, shut off the television, grab my things, and never go back again. And the quicker I get to it, the sooner I can hunker down at home.
The other homes on Bellamy Lane were quiet save for the house on the corner. There seemed to be a summer cookout going on, but their front yard faced Willow Street. A few teenagers were gathered at the lawn’s edge near the stop sign, but Marcy didn’t think they’d notice or care if they saw her. She considered pulling right into the driveway and acting like it was her home but stopped at the curb again. No need to draw any more attention. Nothing good could come from getting overconfident now.
Marcy darted from her car to the porch and hurried inside without knocking.
It was dark in the house save for the light of the television coming from the living room. She scooted into the kitchen. The pictures lay spread out just as she had left them. She scooped them into a pile and set them next to the camera.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” she called. The cat did not answer. She saw the food dish was empty and set about refilling it. What little light remained outside was fading fast. She wished she’d brought her flashlight, but she’d left her purse in the car. She wasn’t chancing leaving something else behind. She cracked the pantry door open and jumped, doing everything she could not to scream. A bag of potato chips had fallen from the snack shelf. Hand to her chest, she steadied her breathing and took the bag of cat food. A shadow across the room moved.
A trick of the eyes. Old lady eyes in the dark, she thought. Still, she was taking more time than she’d wanted to. She filled the cat dish by the fridge; there was still water in the water bowl, so she put the cat food away and moved to the living room.
As she ventured past the laundry room, she stopped dead cold in her tracks. The back door was open. Every hair on her body reached out. Icy tendrils wrapped around her bravery and sense of purpose.
It was here with her.
The shadow in the kitchen….
“I think you have the wrong house,” the man’s voice whispered in her ear.
Marcy screamed and ran. She was out the back door and down the steps in a heartbeat. She’d never moved so fast in all her life, even in her high school track days, and those days were far behind her. She was at the corner of the house, her car in sight, when her feet came off the ground The sky, a bruised purple on its way to black, was all she saw before she crashed to the ground. Broken ribs and a cracked wrist were the least of her concerns. The creature she’d feared for days stood at her feet. He was tall, thin, with long dark hair, and dressed all in black. His pale face, milky white and all teeth, undulated and changed before her eyes. A monster. A true beast from the movie screen now encroached upon her. She prayed to god for a quick and pain-free release but feared His influence might not touch this malevolent thing’s existence.
It had her in its grasp before she could try to rise of her own volition.
Marcy raised her hands, broken wrist and all, to protect her throat.
Her lips trembled at the sight of its teeth. Buried in its shadow, she closed her eyes.
Eddie, dear, I’ll see you soo—
Her last thought shattered as the creature crunched its fangs into the top of her skull.
Marcy Jackson’s body, broken and bled dry, was discarded down the basement storm doors where it landed beside a number of other husks, the Segers’ included.
* * *
On the blanket beneath the pier, barely out of sight of the few beach stragglers, he watched her discard the bathing suit bottoms and lie down upon the towels. He slipped out of his bathing suit and took her hand.
“Do you have a condom?” she asked.
“Huh? Oh, yeah.”
He pulled his wallet from his sneaker and fetched the rubber Axel had given him earlier this year. He’d stolen a box of Trojans from the corner store and gave this one to Rocky. He said they each needed one just in case. Rocky never thought the day would come, but here it was. Good ol’ Axel, helping out even though he was thousands of miles away.
Using his total recall from health class, Ricky slipped the condom on and took his place between November’s legs.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
She nodded.
He’d never been so nervous and excited in his life. After an awkward start, she grasped his penis in her hand and guided him into her. He felt her warmth around him. She cried out but encouraged him to continue. The act didn’t last long, but it was magnificent. Rocky’s eyes rolled into the back of his head before he collapsed on top of her. She held him. He returned the embrace before moving to her side.
“Wow,” was all he could manage to say.
She took his hand, propped up on an elbow, wearing a grin that stretched all the way across her beautiful face, and kissed his cheek. “I think we should probably get dressed.”
Rocky had just managed to get his trunks up when he screamed, “Holy shit!”
“Well, well, well, little sister,” Gabriel said. “Look what you’ve done.”
November stepped into her bottoms, turning her back to her brother. “Gabriel, what the hell?” she said.
Her brother had Rocky by the throat. He must have been over six feet tall, dressed in black like some sort of vampire or modern-day ninja.
“You will not see her again,” he said.
“Ah, eh, ah,” Rocky wheezed, trying to breathe past the man’s grasp.
“Leave him alone, Gabriel. It’s my fault. I came to him.”
He shoved Rocky to the ground, where he landed flat on his back, the wind knocked from his lungs.
Gabriel spun and smacked November so hard it sent her twisting to the sand.
&n
bsp; Rocky watched as the psycho went to her and lifted her from the ground by her hair.
Rage simmered up within. Rocky rose, fists clenched, ready to attack.
Gabriel let go of November and turned to face him.
“Do it, boy. See what happens next.”
“Rocky, no!” November cried, jumping between them and pushing Rocky back. “Don’t. He’ll kill you.”
His anger slipped.
She was in tears, shaking her head from side to side.
“But—” he started but didn’t know what to say.
Gabriel leered over her shoulder.
“Go home, Rocky. Go, please,” she said.
He couldn’t speak. All the words mashed into each another.
“Will…will I see you—”
“Go now!” she said, dropping her chin.
He picked up his sneakers and towels and slowly backed out from their spot beneath the pier. Above, the sounds of people living it up, alive and happy, having the times of their lives, seemed a cruel juxtaposition to the deep heartache and bitter loneliness pulling him out with the tide and swallowing him whole.
“If I see you near my sister again, my young friend,” he heard her brother say, “I will kill you.”
Rocky stumbled into a run at the first path he found and bolted all the way home in tears.
After bursting through the front door, he headed straight for his room.
“Hey, hey,” his father called. “Get back here, now!”
He stopped before his bedroom door. Julie’s door opened. She appeared, her eyes red-rimmed and tired looking as though she’d been crying, as well. Her melancholy expression matched his own.
“Get. Over. Here,” his father said.
He couldn’t remember his dad ever sounding so threatening.
Julie closed her door.
He chewed his lip as he joined his parents in the living room. His mother was fighting back tears.
“Where the hell have you been? Do you know what you put your mother and me through?”
Shame elbowed its way into his overwhelmed state.
“There are kids being taken, people are missing, possibly dead for Christ’s sake and you just disappear for hours without letting anyone know where you were going? Do you understand how stupid and thoughtless that was?”
Rocky’s shoulders hitched as he broke down again.
His mother got up and pulled him to her chest.
He wrapped his arms around her, holding on for dear life.
His father joined them.
The Zukases shared their pain, but none of theirs quite reached the depths of Rocky’s.
Chapter Twenty-One
He was grounded for two weeks. His driver’s test was cancelled. And it all happened two days before his sixteenth birthday no less. He was certain he’d never see November again. Her brother would probably pack her and her mother up and leave town. He’d had a horrible dream last night about her brother. Rocky had woken up this morning feeling the man’s hands on his throat, squeezing the life out of him.
Julie plopped down on the couch next to him.
“I’m sorry about your test,” she offered.
“It’s…I deserve it.”
“And about your girlfriend.”
He turned to her. He would have shed a tear, but he was all cried out.
“Thanks.”
“They think Derek…” she began. “I think something’s happened to him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think the killer got him.”
“What? Why?”
“He was supposed to pick me up two nights ago and never showed. His mom said she’s not sure if he’s been home since he left.”
“Julie, what the hell is happening here?”
“I don’t know, but I’m really scared.”
They embraced.
For the next two days, none of Rocky’s family went anywhere alone besides work. Julie called out of work. She said her boss had a crush on her so she wouldn’t lose her job. She stayed home with Rocky and the two of them tried their best to distract one another from their pain. It didn’t work, but it made them both feel a little better having each other to lean on in their first post-relationship days.
The whole family was gathered around the television, TV dinners on their trays when Dad switched to the news.
“Old Orchard police are urging residents and tourists alike to stay in pairs and to be on alert. If you do decide to go out tonight, remain in well-lit areas, be aware of your surroundings at all times, and if you think you’re being followed or see anyone suspicious, locate the nearest officer or enter the closest shop or bar, get around others and phone Old Orchard Police. Police Chief Michael Donnelly says his crews will be out on patrol in full force borrowing extra help from Saco and Scarborough police departments, even placing two officers on the beach until sundown.
“A strict ordinance was voted into place by the town council in an emergency gathering yesterday afternoon. The ordinance renders the beach off limits after dark and will be in place until further notice. Police still have no suspects in the disappearances but have some clues and evidence that they’re hoping lead them to the responsible party or parties soon.
“I’m Peggy Block, WGME Channel 13 news.”
* * *
It was like a movie Rocky had seen last summer at Axel’s, The Town that Dreaded Sundown. Only, this wasn’t Texas, and none of the bodies had been found yet. It seemed surreal. His birthday was tomorrow, and it had gone from being possibly the greatest week of his life to the worst. His Salisbury steak no longer looked appetising.
“Can I be excused?” he asked.
“Sure,” his dad said.
His mother glanced at his father, but she let it go.
Rocky was glad. The last thing he needed was to start a fight. He slid his TV tray in the space between the fridge and the wall, emptied his plate in the garbage and left it in the sink. In his bedroom, he put on his headphones and hit play. November had given him a copy of Purple Rain. He never thought Prince would be his cup of tea, but ‘The Beautiful Ones’ and the title song were really hitting him in the right spot. He was also pretty sure ‘I Would Die 4 U’ couldn’t be truer. As upset as he was about losing out on the driver’s test and the Buick from his uncle, he’d lost the only girl he’d ever loved.
Staring at the window, he wished she would appear and call him outside. He envisioned them slipping away and being together again like they were under the pier. What had her brother been doing there? How had he found them? And why was he such an asshole? Had they left? Were they miles away now?
The first verse of ‘Purple Rain’ played in his headphones as he felt the tears in his eyes. He put his hands over his face and cried. He didn’t care if he was being a baby. There was no one to see him, and even if they did, to hell with them.
Did she feel like this? Did her heart keep falling to pieces every few minutes?
When the song ended, Rocky rewound the tape and played it again, wallowing in the hurt. By the time he’d rewound it and played it a third time, he was asleep, caressing his pillow.
* * *
He woke up with a start. His mother sat on his bed, stroking his head.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Listen,” she said, “I don’t want to ruin your whole summer. I called this afternoon and rescheduled your test for Tuesday morning.”
“What? For real?”
She nodded. “And if we can come to an agreement, I’ll let you out of being grounded.”
“Anything,” he said.
She poked at his stomach, hitting his brace. “You wear this like you’re supposed to. I don’t want to find it hiding in your closet again.”
“Okay.”
“And you let one of us
know where you’re going and who you’re going with for the rest of the summer. No ifs, ands, or buts.”
“Yeah, of course.”
“And I want you home and inside by nine o’clock every night. Deal?”
“Deal.”
She hugged him and he squeezed her good.
“We haven’t really talked about this girl, this November.”
He looked away and shrugged.
“Do you want to tell me about her? Or is something wrong?”
“I don’t think I can see her again.”
“Why not?”
“Her older brother caught us…together. And he said he doesn’t like me and that he’ll beat me up if he catches me around her.” He left a lot out, like what he meant by ‘together’ and how he’d not get beat up but ‘killed’. That the guy was a total psycho.
“What were you two do—” Clarise Zukas went tight-lipped and averted her eyes.
Rocky felt his cheeks get hot.
“Oh,” she said.
“We…we were careful.”
“I hope so.”
He didn’t know what else to say.
And she got up, apparently out of words, as well.
His mother slipped out of the room.
Rocky wasn’t sure he should have admitted anything, but he hated lying to his mom.
He expected his dad to pop in any minute, but he didn’t. He’d given Rocky ‘the talk’ two summers ago.
Rocky got up and shut off the light.
He was about to lie down when something zipped past his window.
He crossed the room, his heart beating faster, and pressed his face to the screen.
“Hello?” he whispered.
There was nothing there. He pressed his face onto the screen so he could see to the right and left better.
Satisfied that it was just his hyperactive, nervous brain, he went back to his bed.
Lying down, he wondered if he’d see her tomorrow. And if she’d be alone or even willing to talk to him.
He didn’t want to give himself any hope, but he couldn’t help it; it was all he had left.
Chapter Twenty-Two
