After Life (11 page)

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Authors: Andrew Neiderman

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eyes, felt the utter trepidation in her heart. The whisper was sharp,

nearly breathless, as if she thought they were being overheard, as if

she thought there was no place safe. And when Jessie felt the woman's

fingers, she imagined a block of ice carved into a hand. It seemed as

if the woman had no blood.

 

Well, Lee said, I don't know about you, but I enjoyed myself immensely.

It was a very interesting evening, one of the best dinner parties I've

attended.

 

Dr. Beezly is a fascinating man. He's traveled so much and has so much

knowledge at his fingertips.

 

Lee waited, but Jessie remained quiet. She didn't know how to begin,

what to say.

 

You all right? he finaly asked. In there I couldn't get you to shut

up, he added with a short, tense laugh.

 

I don't know how to tell you this, Jessie finally said, but Marjorie

Young just told me the most astounding thing . . . warned me, I

should say.

 

Oh no. He told me to watch out for her, Lee replied, sounding relieved

that this was all it was.

 

Who told you? Told you what?

 

Bob Baker. Seems Marjorie Young is recuperating from a nervous

breakdown, precipitated to some degree by Henry's physical problems and

their subsequent marital problems, which involve their grown son, he

said quickly.

 

Jessie turned, incredulous.

 

Bob Baker told you all that tonight? When? she demanded.

 

Well, it wasn't all told to me tonight. He mentioned something earlier

in school, but I didn't really pay attention to him. I was distracted

with my problems with the team and- Why didn't you say anything to me

about her? You knew we would meet her tonight, Jessie asked.

 

To tell you the truth, Jess, I completely forgot, he said.

 

That's a strange thing to forget, Lee. She turned away and nodded. A

strange thing.

 

I'm sorry.

 

What precipitated her nervous breakdown, do you know?

 

She got into the sauce, he said.

 

Alcoholic?

 

I'm afraid so, he said.

 

But there wasn't any hesitation on anyone's part tonight when it came to

offering her wine. At least I didn't hear it, she said, now unsure of

herself.

 

They pretend nothing's wrong. I watched her. She was given her

champagne, but she didn't do more than bring her lips to the glass.

Anyhow, Baker brought it all up again when you women went touring

through the house, and he advised me not to pay any attention to

anything she might say. I didn't get a chance to tell you before she

said something to you apparently, he added.

 

What happened between Henry Young and his son? she asked.

 

I don't know all the details, but it involves his joining one of those

religious orders. I think the boy wants to be a monk or something. Just

dropped out of college and went off singing Latin hymns. There's been a

real falling-out. Henry refuses to speak to him. Marjorie got caught

in the middle, but she's not siding with Henry and that has put some

strain on their marriage.

 

Is he their only child?

 

Yes, Lee said. She had two miscarriages before.

 

You learned all this tonight? she asked, her skepticism rising to the

surface again.

 

Bob said her failure to have more children was always a part of her

nervous condition.

 

How come he knows so much about the Youngs' personal life?

 

Good friends, I guess. I don't know, honey, but the point is, whatever

she said to you, you've got to disregard it. I guess she's still out of

it. Surely, you noticed how strange she was before, during, and after

dinner.

 

Yes, Jessie admitted. I did feel some odd vibrations but I thought they

had more to do with her own fears.

 

Baker says paranoia is a characteristic symptom of her condition. He's

a very bright guy.

 

I thought you thought he was a bit weird, Lee.

 

Yeah, but I think I like him. He's certainly done real well for himself

and Tracy. Let me tell you about that Red Room, he added, and began to

describe it in detail:

 

the colors, the paintings, the statues.

 

That painting of the woman screaming--I know it, Jessie said. It's a

horrifying picture by Edward Munch.

 

It's called The Scream. Munch's art is always neurotic and frequently

hysterical. Why would they want such a print in their house? And that

fascination with the human body sounds very sensuous, sexual, almost

lustful. Yet Tracy doesn't strike me as the type of woman who would

want these things. It must be mostly Bob's choices, she concluded.

 

Yeah, Lee said. I bet. She could hear his smile.

 

But don't you see, Lee? There is something strange here. I felt it in

there, and when Majorie warned me- Strange? Come on. That was a great

party. What did she say to you anyway? he finally asked. She was

hesitant. After all this, honey, you got to tell me.

 

I don't know how to tell you, she repeated.

 

Just tell me. Jeez.

 

She said when my husband dies, I shouldn't let them bring him back to

life.

 

What? Lee started to laugh. My God, that woman is distorted, isn't

she? When your husband dies . . . what did she say Henry had died?

 

Jessie was silent a moment.

 

Did she?

 

She implied it. He was seriously ill, wasn't he?

 

But he didn't die. For God sakes, Jess.

 

How do we know?

 

What? Oh boy, here we go . . . Jessie Overstreet's imagination is on

the loose. I'm gonna leave this one up to you, Jess, only don't start

"Once upon a time,"

 

okay?

 

She didn't respond. He looked at her and saw how still she sat, her

body stiff, her face like a mask.

 

Jess . . .

 

Something's not right, she said softly. I've been hearing those voices

I heard the first night. Something is not right.

 

Lee nodded.

 

I'm going to push Henry and Dr. Beezly to get us out of that house as

soon as they can. That's what I'm going to do, he said. Then--he

turned to her- things will be right.

 

She said nothing. The silence unnerved him and he finally resorted to

turning on the radio just so there would be some noise.

 

Oh, I forgot to tell you, Lee said as they pulled into their driveway,

Bob said he and Tracy would love to pick you up tomorrow night to take

you to the game.

 

You did want to go, didn't you? Even though Jessie wouldn't see

anything, her mere presence would be supportive. She had been to almost

every one of his games since he had begun coaching, and it always made

him feel good to look up in the stands and see her.

 

Yes, of course, she said.

 

Good. Bob said to tell you he can't wait to practice his play-by-play

announcing. I'm sure he'll have you in stitches all night, Lee added.

 

Late the next morning Tracy Baker did call to confirm her willingness to

have her and Bob pick her up. Jessie used the occasion to talk about

Marjorie Young.

 

Lee told me some of the things Bob had told him about the Youngs, Jessie

said.

 

And men accuse us of gossiping, Tracy replied.

 

It was sad to hear all those things about Marjorie. Is she still

drinking?

 

Not as much since Dr. Beezly put her on sedatives.

 

Actually last night was one of her better nights, Tracy said.

 

It was?

 

Well, she was civil, spoke to you and me. Why? Did something happen I

don't know about?

 

Jessie told her what Marjorie had said on the way out.

 

Oh no. She did something similar to me--called me one night, in the

middle of the night, and told me she was positive Bob was dead. I said,

"Marjorie, he's lying right beside me, breathing rather well, snoring in

fact."

 

What did she say?

 

She said it wasn't Bob. I did all I could to prevent myself from

laughing. I said. "No? Well, when he gets home, he's going to be

pissed." Tracy laughed. Jessie couldn't help but smile herself. I hung

up and Bob woke up. I told him what she had said and he told me some of

the things Henry had told him. Not long after, Dr. Beezly began

prescribing sedatives and she calmed down considerably. But apparently,

from what you're telling me, she still has a way to go.

 

Anyhow, don't worry about it. We'll come by about six-thirty, okay. Bob

says the auditorium will be packed tonight. Everyone knows there's a

new coach on board and the school we're playing is something of a rival.

 

Fine. I'll be ready, Jessie said, and hung up the phone. She spent the

rest of the day working on a new short story. She spoke with Lee twice,

and each time she could hear the excitement building in his voice.

 

Just about everyone from the custodians to cafeteria staff to faculty

has come around to wish me good luck, he said. It's nice how everyone

gets involved. I guess working in a small school system does have its

advantages.

 

They had already decided Lee would get a quick bite near the school

because he didn't have all that much time between the end of the school

day and the start of the game. As head coach, he had to see about the

referees for the junior and senior varsity games, be sure the score

clock was set up, and arrange for the sale of tickets.

 

Jessie wished him good luck. She was happy that he was so involved and

apparently taking to the new job.

 

Just after she had sat down to eat something herself, the phone rang. It

was Dr. Beezly.

 

I thought Lee might still be home, he said. I wanted to wish him good

luck.

 

That's very nice of you, she said. I'll tell him when I get to the

school.

 

Actually, the doctor went on, I'm glad I have you on the phone. I don't

mean to be presumptuous, but I would like to repeat my willingness to

examine your eyes. Sometimes a loss of sight is caused by an injury

that involves a swelling, and when that swelling recedes- Yes, I know

about that, Doctor. We were told not to be optimistic in that regard,

she said.

 

Well, it's always easy to be pessimistic. We have a natural tendency to

look on the dark side, and understandably so. There' s so much to make

us unhappy in today's world. You don't have to come to my office, he

said. I'll come to you.

 

That's very kind of you, but- Let me call you in a day or so and see if

we can coordinate time and day, okay?

 

She thought for a moment. Something made her hesitate

 

. She certainly had no hope he would be able to succeed where other

doctors hadn't, but she felt awkward about refusing such a kindness.

 

All right, she relented. Thank you.

 

A half hour later the Bakers arrived. Both complimented her on how she

looked.

 

Actually, with your hair in that ponytail and that sweater and skirt,

you look more like one of the high school students than the wife of the

coach, Bob said.

 

Thank you.

 

I'm starting to get jealous, Tracy said. He doesn't compliment me as

much.

 

Now, honey, you know how I feel about you, Bob said.

 

Taking me for granted, Tracy muttered. Just like a man. She laughed,

then scooped her arm through Jessie's and they left the apartment.

 

Maybe we should see if old man Carter wants to go, Bob jested.

 

I haven't heard him all day, Jessie said. I wonder if he's all right.

But who would know? He doesn't seem to have any visitors other than . .

 

Than whom? Tracy asked as they neared toward the car.

 

Nobody actually. I mean, I hear footsteps other than his sometimes, or

what sounds like footsteps. Maybe it's just him sweeping the floor,

Jessie quickly concluded.

 

Sweeping the floor? What sort of footsteps sound like sweeping? Bob

asked.

 

I don't know. It's . . . my imagination, I suppose, Jessie said. She

felt the Bakers hesitate.

 

Then, simultaneously, they said, We'd better find you guys a new place

to live very soon.

 

As soon as they arrived at the school, Bob commented on the size of the

crowd.

 

The parking lot is jammed, he said. They're putting cars on the lawns.

 

Does Lee get very nervous? Tracy asked.

 

He hides it well, but he's nervous, Jessie replied.

 

Bob let them out by the entrance and went off to find a space. From the

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