Anathema (7 page)

"Well, after what you've told me, it's definitely something to think about."

Jim finished his beer, got up, and tossed the empty in the recycle bin. He opened the refrigerator. “Can I get you another?"

"No thanks, buddy, I need to be going,” Jarvis sucked down the last dregs of his beer and deposited the empty with the others. “I'll see you tonight, then?"

"Yeah, you probably will,” Jim replied and walked Jarvis to the door.

Fresh beer in hand, Jim watched Jarvis drive away. He looked at the sprawling woods behind his house.

There's an old swimming hole back there.

It's dangerous.

Maybe Jarvis was right. Maybe he should consider fencing off the woods. It would probably be better for everyone.

Another beer piqued his curiosity. The fourth gave him courage.

Jim walked down the path that wound its way through the trees, being careful not to stumble over the roots that stuck up through the ground. He followed the serpentine trail until he came to the swimming hole, then he burst out laughing.

This scummy water-filled crater was what Jarvis warned him about! Jim needn't worry about anyone swimming in that! It smelled so bad even the flies avoided it. But the cave that was less than a hundred feet away was another story.

Jim trudged up the small hill that led to the cave. The entrance was well hidden by an overgrowth of bramble and weeds, but he had heard too many horror stories about children who had gone into a cave to play, got disoriented, and never came out. He didn't want such a fate for his son or daughter.

Regardless of whether he fenced in the woods, he'd seal up the cave's entrance—and any others he might find—to prevent his children from wandering inside.

Jim was about to head back home when a glint of light shimmered in the corner of his eyes. He spun around and looked into the mouth of the cave, certain the flash came from inside.

"Hello?” He walked toward the entrance. “Is somebody in there?"

He parted the brush and stared into the dark cavity. A bright green light flashed again.

Not wanting to, but unable not to, Jim stepped into the cave and the light flashed like a disco strobe.

Come into the light,
an unknown voice whispered in his head.
There is so much to see in the light. So much to feel.

Jim took another step forward. Tears streamed down his cheeks. His head felt like it was going to explode. He wanted to turn back, yet he continued to move forward.

That's right. Come closer. Touch me. Feel me.

The wall of light stopped flashing and now pulsed in time to Jim's terrified heartbeat. He reached out and touched the wall. It felt like Jell-O.

Welcome.

Then he walked into it.

He felt worms in his head, and their tiny teeth nibbled at his brain as they bored through it. The light was like ice against his flesh and its brightness scorched his eyes. Images of pestilence flashed before him. Wails of the suffering echoed in his ears. He smelled death as it rolled off him in a thick, putrid cloud.

These sensations should've driven him mad. Instead, he was aroused.

The rational part of his mind forced him to scream, but instead of a shriek, a volume of blood gushed from his open mouth.

Then out of a swirling mist, came the three dead whores. Their titties had become living mounds of flesh. A pair of scarlet eyes replaced the nipples. Shriveled vaginas were lined with teeth that dripped blood as dark as crude oil. They surrounded Jim, pulled him into their circle, and fell upon him...

Jim awoke to the sound of Diane's voice. He ran his hand through his hair and waited for his eyes to focus on his wife's face.

What a dream. The last thing he remembered was having a beer with Jarvis. Afterward, he must've lain down. The combination of the heat and alcohol must've zonked him out.

"Hi.” He smiled at Diane. “What time is it?"

"Just after three o'clock."

Three o'clock! It was one-thirty when Jarvis left. He couldn't have been asleep for more that twenty minutes. Jim sprang out of bed and padded into the bathroom. It was then he noticed the stain on his underwear and the stickiness on his thighs. A wet dream. He hadn't had one of those since he was seventeen.

"So, what'd the kids think of downtown?” Jim sponged off his legs.

"Surprisingly enough, they thought it was great. Molly complained because they don't have a mall, but she still managed to spend a week's worth of groceries at the Four Seasons Department Store."

"Jarvis stopped by this morning..."

"Jarvis? Who's Jarvis?"

"He's the fellow I met downtown, yesterday. He owns one of the taverns. I think we're becoming friends."

"Good and I guess that would explain all the beer cans downstairs."

"He only had one, I had the rest.” Jim poked his head out of the bathroom doorway. “Forgive me?"

Diane smiled.

"Anyway,” Jim continued, “Jarvis said there was some kind of celebration happening downtown and asked us to go. So, you wanna?"

"Yeah, why not. I think it'll be fun and give me a chance to meet this new friend of yours."

Jim stepped out of the bathroom. His member stood out in front of him.

"Where are the kids?” He moved his hips back and forth, making his erection wag.

Diane eyed her husband's engorged sex. “Molly's in her room trying on the things she bought, and Travis is out back playing with Rufus. We have time."

Diane stripped off her jeans and panties, lifted her blouse above her head. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her fingers probed her sex. Jim locked the bedroom door, smiled, and joined his wife.

Chapter 9

Diane had been wrong about the kid's description of downtown. According to Travis, it wasn't great, it was awesome. Since Diane had brought them home, Travis hadn't stopped talking about it. Now, during the trip back into town, Travis told his stories all over again.

The park was equipped with three swing sets and a Jungle Gym that Travis could only describe as “sweet.” There were two basketball courts (but they were for the bigger kids), and a softball diamond. Travis said the spring Little League and T-Ball tryouts were held there. He read that on a poster in the park shelter.

Jim supposed come next spring, he'd be spending a lot of Saturday afternoons watching his son play ball.

Travis said downtown had a Toys-R-Us and a store that sold
X-Men
comics. Jim doubted if a town the size of Prairie Rest could support a large toy store, but if his son wanted to believe it, what harm could it do? Diane thought the store with the comics was probably the Paperback Parlor across the street from the Gas-n-Go.

Molly joined the conversation as well. She said she found the neatest antique shop, and the Sew What! had a ton of fabrics and notions. She even expressed an interest in taking up sewing again. But she was really impressed that downtown had a Starbucks, just like back in Ventura.

Jim smiled. Those coffee shops were like dandelions. Sometimes, he thought they were taking over the world.

Diane liked the A&W. She thought it was quaint with its orange-shingled roof and canopied drive-in. It brought back memories of her youth.

Molly couldn't understand how anyone could enjoy burgers and fries that were served on a tray that hooked to the car window. The whole concept was so ... nineteen fifties.

Then, the inside of the Suburban was quiet and Jim caught a glimpse of his children's faces in the rear view mirror. They were smiling at each other. For the first time in a long time, he saw happiness sparkle in their eyes. They were getting along. They were
all
getting along.

Molly scooted forward and rested her arms on the top of the front seat. “Mom, Dad, I have something to say."

Jim and Diane looked at each other. Jim raised an eyebrow.

"Just don't tell us you're pregnant.” Jim laughed. The statement was a joke, but back in Ventura, Molly had spent a lot of time with a sixteen-year-old boy named Cruz. Both Jim and Diane had been concerned about the boy's intentions, and even though Molly assured them they were just friends, there was still that innocent doubt parents had once their daughters got old enough to
really
know the difference between boys and girls. At least the move to Prairie Rest had gotten her away from Cruz.

Molly scrunched her face together. “Gross, Dad!” She turned her attention to her mother. “What I want to say is I'm sorry I've been such a brat about things. I think I really will like it here.” Molly leaned forward and kissed her parents on the cheeks. “I love you guys."

Jim's eyes teared. This is what it was like to be a family. No bickering; no arguments. He reached over and squeezed Diane's knee. A spark of electricity passed between them and for a moment, Jim was back in the bedroom with his wife. Never in his life had he been so amorous.

They looked at each other. A wicked glint sparkled in their eyes. If the children weren't in the back, he'd pull the Suburban over and have her right here and now. Maybe tonight, after the celebration...

Diane shifted in her seat. She'd felt the exchange, too and the memory of the bedroom romp sent shivers up the inside of her thighs.

Jim pulled into the parking lot behind the department store and gave his wife another squeeze. “Everybody out. We're here."

The black and white banner hung across Main Street read: Welcome to Prairie Rest-
ful
Days of Summer.

A small midway was set up in the municipal parking lot. The Tilt-a-Whirl, Scrambler, and Octopus, powered by gasoline engines, belched choking, blue-black exhaust into the night. Sometimes, the exhaust clouds were so thick, they momentarily blotted out the colored lights of the rides.

Games of chance and skill were along one side of the midway. Prizes, dangling from hooks on the front of brightly painted booths, tempted carnival visitors to spend their money here.

A dunk tank was situated near the east corner, and a row of muscle-bound men lined up, anxious to sink the scantily clad girl. The water must've been cold, because her nipples protruded through her wet top like a pair of bullets.

Main Street was lined with food stands, and the air was saturated with the sweet aroma of cotton candy and grease.

Across the street, a beer truck idled in a vacant parking lot. Six chrome spigots poked from the truck's side, and a row of tables were set up in front of them. Behind the tables, volunteers busily filled pitchers with beer. The sign taped above the spigots read:
Must be 21 to purchase beer. Have ID ready.

"Awesome,” Travis said. He was mesmerized by the lights and noises and sounds of the carnival. At this very moment, there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

Jim reached in his pocket, took out his wallet, and handed Molly twenty dollars. “You share this with your brother. Now, go have fun."

Molly snatched the money out of her father's hand and the two ran off toward the chaos of the midway. “Thanks, Dad,” Molly hollered as they disappeared into the crowd.

"Do you think it's all right to let them run on their own?” Diane asked.

"I'm sure it's fine. This is a far cry from Disneyland.” Jim smiled and watched as Molly bought a pair of tickets to the Ferris Wheel. “Look, there's Jarvis. Next to that corn dog stand. Let's go say hello."

They met in the street right in front of the lemonade kiosk that claimed it made its drinks from fresh squeezed lemons, but Jim saw a few dozen cases of Country Time tucked behind the counter and wondered just how true the fresh-squeezed claim really was.

"Glad you came.” Jarvis stuck the last of the corn dog in his mouth, tossed the stick in the gutter, and wiped a smear of mustard from his face with a used-up napkin. Jim introduced Diane and Jarvis shook her hand. “It's nice to meet you."

Suddenly, Diane found herself wondering what Jarvis would be like in bed. Lately, she'd been thinking about that sort of thing almost every time she passed someone on the street. Why in the world would she have such thoughts? Especially now when she was trying so hard to make things right with her husband. She swallowed hard and forced a smile.

"It's nice to meet you, too,” Diane rasped.

She looked at her husband. His face was pinched with concern. Had she said what she thought out loud? Had he read her mind?

"Are you okay, Diane?” Jim asked. “You look flushed."

"No, I'm fine,” she lied. “I guess I must be too warm."

"I know just the thing,” Jarvis suggested. “Let me buy you guys a beer. That should cool all of us off and give me a chance to introduce you to a few friends of mine."

"That sounds like a good thing to me,” Jim agreed.

Jarvis led Diane and Jim across the cordoned off street to a picnic table near the beer garden. Jarvis began the introductions with Cal Jones, who sat on the right side of the table.

"Cal owns the gas station just down the street. Next to him is Pastor Timothy. He claims he comes to these functions just to keep an eye on things, and if you ask him what's in the glass, he'll tell you it's anything but beer."

"It's ginger-ale,” Pastor Timothy chimed. “Nothing stronger for me."

"Uh-huh,” Jarvis replied, good-naturedly, “and I'm only three feet tall."

The men chuckled at the playful banter.

"And that somber-looking gentleman is Sheriff Ebert. Jim, you met him at the bar the other day."

Jim nodded.

"Everyone, this is Diane and Jim Anderson. They bought the old Miller place."

Jim smiled and pulled his wife close. “Pleased to meet you.” He had no idea the part these men would play in his life.

All the beer made them adventurous, so Diane suggested they check out the rest of the fair. Jarvis excused himself, explaining he'd been away from the bar too long, and Pastor Timothy said he had to be getting back to the church. Jim and Diane walked with Jarvis to the Stumble Inn, where they parted company.

"They seemed nice,” Jim said afterward.

"I dunno,” Diane replied, “I felt kinda uncomfortable around them."