by Glenn Rolfe
This morning, his mom came in to give him the best news he’d received all summer.
“Hey.” She sat at the edge of his bed gazing at him with her warm, brown eyes. Her mouth curved downward at the corners.
“Hey,” he mumbled.
“I know last night probably sucked for you, but I just wanted to say thank you for not spoiling it for me with Garrett’s folks.”
“Too bad Garrett didn’t feel the same way,” James said. He kept his eyes aimed downward pretending to read the book in his hands.
She slid closer to him, reaching out to brush her hand through his long hair. “Honey, you know how he is.”
Yeah, he’s a jerk.
She saw his brow furrow and his lips tighten.
“Look, I came in because your father called. He wants you to stay with him until the start of school and…I said okay.”
He brought his eyes up to meet hers. Hope flooded his heart and soul at the thought of going home.
“I thought you’d like that,” she said.
“When are we leaving?”
He saw the effect his enthusiasm for escape had on her; she feigned a matching excitement, but he saw the hurt in her eyes.
“I mean, I’d really like that. Thanks, mom.”
He was packed up and they were on the road by noon. His mom drove him while Garrett took his parents to the airport.
For the first time in a long time he was truly happy with her. They sang along together to a rock song on the radio as they drove toward Caleb. In that moment, he could almost forgive her for messing up his life.
Chapter Four
“You know you don’t have to go in tonight,” Richie said. “Jerry said you could have the night off, all things considered.”
“You know me, Richie; I’ve got to get right back up on that horse. Besides, Jerry said you can come down and hang out all night if it will make you feel better.”
“Damn it, Alison…sometimes you’re just too tough for your own good, you know that?”
She smiled, gave him a quick kiss on the lips, grabbed her bag off the corner of the couch, and headed towards the door. “I’ll call you every hour, on the hour. I love you.”
“I love you too. Please be careful.”
She gave him another quick smile and kiss at the door.
“Always.”
He watched from the front door as she got into her little blue Toyota and backed out onto Porter Street. He returned her wave as she drove away.
The memory of his ill attempt at sexing up their living room was too fresh to forget and rolled over his mood like a poisonous fog. He hung his head and closed the door.
At least James was here.
Samantha had dropped him off this afternoon after coming to her senses about placing the boy’s needs over her own.
He’d called to demand James for the remainder of the weekend but got on a roll and told his ex that he wanted James for the rest of the summer. He was shocked when she agreed to allow it. Then, she explained how she was concerned about the way James had been moping around and locking himself away in his bedroom all day since their move to Evergreen. She thought the only cure was to let him go to Richie’s for the rest of summer vacation. Richie was more than ecstatic. The unselfish move was a little uncharacteristic for her and made him wonder if there might be more to it, such as what if things weren’t going so well with Garrett? Or what if Garrett didn’t want James around? But Richie decided it best not to push for more, not wanting to take the chance of upsetting her and having her renege on the offer.
There was just under a month left to the summer and he was already scheming and planning all sorts of great little adventures for him and his son to embark upon. Maybe they’d head out to Damariscotta Lake, go down to the coast, possibly even take a road trip to Boston to stay in a hotel, head to a Red Sox game, or maybe catch a concert—budget be damned! Being out of work might have some advantages after all. Free time was to be cared for as idle hands are the devil’s playthings, his mother used to say. He wasn’t worried so much about succumbing to some dark force, he just wanted to hang out with his boy and enjoy a few weeks of fun and sun.
It would all have to wait until tomorrow though. James had gone out to the movies with his buddies and would probably end up staying at one of their places tonight. The boy needed his friends. Hell, he’d spent most of the summer isolated in that prissy rich people’s town to which his mother and her boyfriend had dragged him. It was good for the soul, good for the human spirit to be amongst your flock and get a chance to spread your wings. That was something Pastor Lindale had said just last week. Tonight was James’s night to soar.
He could stand another night by himself. Unlike Samantha, his ability to let go and give the boy room to breathe was genuine.
He checked the fridge for something to eat, something to drink; he had neither. The boy was going to starve if he didn’t fill the barren wasteland that was his icebox.
Movement from the corner of his eye caught him off guard and set the hair on his neck to rise.
He turned his head to the left to see his own reflection do the same.
Breathing a sigh of relief, he started to laugh. He laughed a little harder than was called for but found he couldn’t help himself. He’d spooked himself last night, too.
Richie didn’t notice his reflection wasn’t laughing, but rather that the vision of him in the window stood motionless, staring into him with an intensity that tickled some corner of his brain that hadn’t quite caught up.
He shook his head, amused with his overreaction to the cheap scare, grabbed his keys, and headed out the door and down over to the grocery store.
He didn’t notice the reflection he’d left in the kitchen window as it watched him drive away.
Chapter Five
“Hey buddy, what’s the good word?”
“Hey dad,” James said, “we’re just hanging out. What are you up to?”
“I’m just grabbing some grub and some soda for the house. Figured I could at least fill the fridge and maybe a cupboard or two since you’re gonna be home for a while. How was the movie?
“We haven’t actually gone to the theater yet. We’ve just been hanging around the record shop. We’re waiting for Kevin and his sister to show up.”
“Oh yeah? Kev’s sister, huh?”
Oh no. How does he always do that?
His dad always knew when he was even remotely attracted to a girl. Truth was he and Carrie had been talking on Facebook more since he moved. He talked to her more than he did either Eric or Kevin. They had been trying to plan a way to see the movie together since before he’d left. His father was correct. He did have a crush on her and he was pretty sure she felt the same way. Tonight, he was hoping to find out for sure.
They had never really broached the subject when he lived in town, both a little afraid of what it might lead to, or how it might affect him and Kevin’s friendship. There was something about the distance that gave them both the courage and the necessary freedom to begin to really get to know each other without the sometimes awkwardness of having Kevin and Eric around, or worse, being left one on one with their unpredictable hormones.
“Yeah, Carrie’s going with us.” He waited for his dad to say something about a crush or a date, but he never did.
“That’s cool. What movie are you guys going to?”
“It’s a new vampire movie, Night Blood in 3-D.”
“I think I actually saw the original at the movies back in the eighties! Are you guys going to be able to get in okay?”
“Yeah, it’s PG-13.”
“What are you guys doing after?”
“I was actually calling to see if it’d be cool if I spent the night at Eric’s house tonight?”
“Yeah bud, I figured as much. Do I need to come gets you in the morning?”
“No, I’ll just walk; it’s not that far.”
“All right, bud, have fun tonight. Tell the gang I said hello.”
“I will. Thanks, dad. Love you.”
“Love you too, bud.”
He put his phone in the back pocket of his jeans and headed back inside The Record Exchange.
Eric put down whatever DVD he’d been looking at and headed over to meet him by the rock section.
“What’d he say?”
Eric Dolman was short even by fourteen-year-old standards, claiming he had yet to get his growth spurt, but being that his parents were both well under six feet tall, that growth spurt probably wasn’t going to be worth the wait. He wore his hair in a buzz cut that only helped show off his oddly shaped conehead and dressed almost exclusively in camo shorts he bought at the army surplus store and wrestling t-shirts that his mom ordered him online from Amazon.
He wasn’t so much his best friend, but more his longest acquaintance. Their birthdays were days apart, and their moms had sent them to the same daycare since they were three.
He could tell Eric was bored and more than ready to head to the theater.
“He said it was cool. I’ll call Carrie and let her know we’ll meet them over at the Julian.”
“Carrie? Why would you call her?
Oh crap.
“I’ll text Kev and let him know.”
He wasn’t ready to let Eric in on the blossoming relationship between Carrie and he just yet, and he’d nearly let it slip. Thankfully, Eric’s brain didn’t spark with the same amount of brightness as most of their friends and he had already moved on to checking out the girl behind the register, Jo-Beth Wilson. Jo-Beth was a sophomore. Eric appeared to be in the middle of a wet daydream.
Carrie and Kevin were already waiting for them when they reached the Julian.
The Julian Theater was the closest thing to a historic site Caleb had to offer. It was a small cinema with only five screens that had been around since the early seventies and had managed to survive the arrival of the bigger theaters in nearby Augusta and Waterville, by the grace of God. It was due to a little small-town loyalty and a successful succession of owners that had come full circle last summer when Brad Julian purchased it from Bob Cooper, a local business man who became Mayor. James wondered where the small-town loyalty was when it came to his dad’s now-defunct business, Last Video on the Left, which met its demise just before summer. Though he knew it was coming, he wished they could have found a way to save the store. Unfortunately, the theater had been around since the seventies. His dad’s shop was born in 1999, right before his arrival.
The building that was the Julian Theater wasn’t very impressive from the outside; it was pretty much a big, brick box. It was the old school marquee perched atop the front of the business that inspired a vintage excitement long since lost with the new multiplexes and their unabashed corporate sell-out rhetoric. The Julian’s marquee was the stand-out landmark in the small downtown landscape, and without fail, bled pure Hollywood magic upon townies and tourists alike.
On the inside, the walls were dressed in classic movie posters rather than the current stream of Hollywood hits as was more commonplace. The floor was covered with wall-to-wall red carpeting, the concession stand sat kitty-cornered before the mouth of the hallway that led to the five small theaters, and was usually only manned by two employees, which caused for some longer waits that were trumped by the theater’s remarkably below average prices.
Carrie and Kevin were arguing about something he couldn’t quite pick up as Eric and he made their approach – the sibling squabbling ceased in the acknowledgement of their presence.
“Hey, shit-heads!” Kevin looked at his watch and held his palms up. “Our movie starts in fifteen minutes. You jerk-offs are gonna have us waiting in line all night. I don’t wanna miss the new Avengers preview.”
“Calm down Captain America, you guys are the ones running late. Besides, you already saw that preview a couple weeks ago.”
“Shut up, Eric. Hey Jamie-boy, how’s life in Evergreen?”
He smiled in Carrie’s direction as he slapped Kevin on the back.
“It’s good to be home. Let’s not waste any more time out here, we don’t have tick–”
“Tickets yet?” Carrie interrupted.
She reached behind her and produced four movie passes.
“We grabbed them like half an hour ago.”
James could feel his heart swooning as she flashed that beautiful smile his way. He’d almost forgotten how cute she was in person. Her long, black hair and pale blue eyes demanded his attention and had him raptured as a member of a cult to his self-anointed messiah. Kevin broke his trance-like Carrie-induced state, thumping a pair of 3D glasses against his chest.
“Let’s stop bitchin’ about it already. I need some popcorn.”
He fell back, letting Eric and Kevin take the lead, slinking back to be at her side. He put an arm playfully around her shoulders and was ecstatic to have her look to him, smile, then warmly place her hand on his wrist.
This just might be a good summer after all.
Chapter Six
He’d watched far too many episodes of Unsolved Mysteries earlier. Richie couldn’t stand hearing about people who went missing, and it took him forever to finally change the channel. He figured it was probably some form of masochism. The shows had been full of good cheer: young girls who hitchhiked and never made it home or husbands who murdered their spouses and vanished with the baby. He’d since changed to the SyFy channel’s Friday the 13th marathon – more joyous visions of mistakes that led to death and dismemberment! It was all bringing him down. The alcohol wasn’t doing him any favors, either. A night that started off warm and happy had banged a hard left and taken a downward spiral. Piece by piece, the floorboards of stability dropped out from beneath the muscles holding his half smile in place, leaving a mask of disdain and disgust as he watched the topless girl get her eyes cut out with shears on the TV.
A noise from the kitchen found its way through the haze of his inebriated state, causing him to look over the shoulder of his broken recliner, his slightly blurred vision taking its time to follow his swimming head in the direction of the sound. The loud thud came again followed by a series of soft taps. The sounds were resonating from the kitchen. Richie climbed out of his chair to go investigate the source of this nuisance.
Some kids playing with me? I’ll show them what’s coming.
As his legs and feet began to attempt the simple task of moving him toward the room beyond, he realized he was drunk. He stopped and held himself steady with the back of the recliner. He convinced himself that he hadn’t heard anything and that he was just too smashed. He turned, ready to plant his drunken ass back down, when the loud THUMP and soft taps came again.
Someone was at the kitchen window.
The hairs along his spine rose like a petrified kid in the Midwest at the sight of a tornado. There was something out there and he no longer wished to see it. He suddenly realized just how alone and vulnerable he was. He could no longer fathom venturing out into the darkened room. He wasn’t the biggest guy around by any means, and he felt secure enough in his ability to defend himself in a hand-to-hand situation, but what if it was someone really big, some unstoppable force like Jason Voorhees? Or, what if it was more than one person? Or someone like the guy from Mendy’s last night strung out on synthetic drugs and desperate for more? This is how those cases on Unsolved Mysteries started.
Still weaving on his feet, holding his chair, and listening intently for the rapping on his window, Richie wondered not who was out there, but what? Against the heat of the hot August night, a cold chill raged like an angry river down his spine.
What the hell. What would Alison think of me? What would James think of me? Chicken-shit and standing like a baby in his own house, afraid of a little noise.
He commanded his legs to carry him toward the dark.
As he stepped in the doorway to the kitchen, he felt his knees weaken and his stomach waver. He ignored the premonition-like signals from his body and crossed the threshold int
o the darkened room.
In the window, he saw his reflection mirroring his position, the lit-up living room at his back …only, there was someone else standing behind him.
Fists up like a fighter, he spun around to an empty room, nearly falling on his ass as he did so. No one but Lou Carter from Lou Carter Furniture blabbering from the TV in a commercial about big discounts.
He lowered his hands and glanced around the room again.
Nothing.
He turned back to the kitchen and jumped.
His reflection was following him, but the person, a woman, was standing behind him. He turned his head to double-check the living room. He was alone.
He looked to his reflection again, only this time the doppelganger was turned with his back toward him. He watched as his reflection walked to the woman. She looked like…Alison. He watched as the other him slid his hand up the front of her short, hot pink skirt. She was now staring at him through the window. He felt his mouth go dry, as he stiffened in his jeans. He watched as she put her hand on the hand his reflection had under her skirt and joined him in his obvious action. They both began to moan, as his reflection dropped his jeans and began thrusting into her. Between her hitching grunts, he watched and listened as the woman he knew intimately let out quick howls of ecstasy that he had never heard.
I’m dreaming. That’s it. I passed out drunk again and I’m having this…this…
He felt like a voyeur, like some pervert peeping in on an unsuspecting couple. Still, he just stood staring, transfixed on the untamed sexual performance he saw himself putting on with the woman he loved. He watched as his reflection slammed Alison against the wall, thrusting into her. A picture frame he knew well on the wall here in the kitchen, featuring a photo of himself and James, fell to the floor and broke as she pulled the black tube top she was wearing down exposing breasts that were too large to be Alison’s. She was biting her bottom lip and looking right at him. She looked so goddamned sexy. He wanted this to be happening right here, right now. He wanted to be the one having sex with this vixen. He wanted to be the one who was ballsy enough to just take her where she stood, in the kitchen, against the wall, uninhibited, unplanned and just acting on pure primal instinct. He reached down, touched himself, and closed his eyes.
