Authors: Ray Garton
PART IV
Crucifax Concert
Twenty
October 15
It was still raining the next morning, and the sky was the color of dusk.
Lily picked up Jeff at ten o'clock, and they went to Tiny Naylor's. Neither of them spoke during the ride, but Lily seemed in much better shape than she had the night before.
They were led to a table by an enormous waitress with jowls and a cigarette-damaged voice. Their booth was by a window that looked out on Ventura Boulevard.
Once they'd ordered their breakfasts, Jeff said, "How did you sleep last night?"
"How do you think?"
"Yeah, me too."
"Jeff," she whispered urgently, "what did we see? What happened last night? Are we crazy?"
Jeff didn't know what to say. Last night, while they were in that strange dark room, he'd felt certain of what they were seeing; but since Lily had spoken with Nikki on the phone the night before, he was not quite so sure.
"I don't know, Lily," he said. "I really don't know."
She very casually reached across the table and took his hand, looking out the window.
"Did your sister come home last night?" she asked.
He shook his head. On the way home the night before, he'd explained to her why he suspected Mallory to be involved with Mace. He had not, however, told her as much as he'd revealed to J.R.
"Were your parents angry at you for being so late last night?" he asked.
"No. He was in bed when I got home. My dad. He doesn't worry too much about where I go. He trusts me."
"Your parents are divorced?"
"No. My mom died when I was a baby." She looked out the window again for a moment, thoughtful and distant, then back at Jeff again. "That's a lie. She left. I was fourteen months old. She decided she didn't want to be a wife and mother, so she took off."
Her hand was cool in his, and her fingers twitched nervously; he realized she hadn't smiled once all morning.
"Why did you tell me that?" he asked after a moment. "I mean, I don't mind, but… well, you didn't have to tell me.
She shrugged. "I don't like lies. My dad lied to me until about two years ago. He told me she'd died. Then my grandmother told me the truth."
"Does your dad know she told you?"
"Yeah. We talked about it. I don't like the fact that he lied to me all those years, but I understand why he did it. He didn't want me to, you know, develop a complex about it, like she'd left because of me or something. For a while, I didn't think I'd be able to trust him again, but… well, he trusts me so much. He's good to me."
"My dad left, too. I think he got tired of being a husband and father."
"Maybe they're living together somewhere." She laughed, and her smile made Jeff feel much better, almost as if nothing was wrong, as if they were together just for the sake of being together.
He squeezed her hand, and she returned the gesture warmly; then the moment was gone, along with her smile.
"We have to go see her after breakfast," Lily said. "Nikki, I mean. I don't care if she's still asleep or if her mother's having one of those morning fits she always has before her first drink of the day."
"What does her mother do?"
"Well, she gets a lot of money from her ex-husband. He's in the movies, like a producer or something. But she also… well, she's a hooker, too."
"You're kidding."
She shook her head. "Nikki pretends she doesn't know. Her mother is a licensed masseuse. Nikki seems to think that's all she's doing, giving massages. But I think she knows better."
Jeff silently hoped that Nikki did know what her mother was doing, because if she didn't, she would eventually find out somehow. He knew it would be a tremendous blow to learn such a thing about his own mother, and he felt a pang of sorrow for Nikki.
When Lily was finished eating, she dabbed her mouth with her napkin and pushed the plate away, folding her arms on the tabletop. Tilting her head slightly, she said, "Kinda weird, isn't it? I mean, the way we're getting to know each other. Most people, you know, have something in common, like classes or music. We've got this… Nikki and your sister…."
"Yeah," he said, nodding. "But it could be worse. We could be on our own."
"Yeah, I guess so."
Nikki lived on Fair Avenue in North Hollywood. She and her mother had a small second-floor apartment. The stairs and walkway in front of the apartment were sheltered, but the wind blew rain in over them as they stood before the door.
When Lily pressed the hollow-sounding bell in the center of the door, there was no response.
"What time is it?" she asked, ringing again.
"Eleven-twenty."
She reached up and removed the top cover from the porch light. A key was taped to the underside. She took it off, put the cover back, and opened the door.
A small, pudgy woman with dark hair was sprawled on the sofa, eyes closed, mouth yawning open, wheezing steadily. On the coffee table there was a tall, empty glass and an empty vodka bottle; next to that was an ashtray overflowing with butts and ashes. An old western was playing on the television.
"Must've had an extra fifth last night," Lily said disdainfully, leading the way through the messy, cluttered living room and down the hall.
Nikki sat up in bed and squinted at them groggily when they entered her room.
"What… you guys…" She rubbed her eyes and yawned.
"Morning, Nik," Lily said. "Meet Jeff Carr."
Jeff smiled apologetically at her. "Hi."
"You met him yesterday, Nikki. Remember?"
"What're you guys doing here?"
"I told you I was coming over this morning," Lily said, sitting on the bed. "It's almost eleven-thirty."
"Oh. Well. It's Saturday."
"Wanna go to a movie with us today?"
Nikki shook her head. "Can't. I've got plans." The sheet and blanket fell away from her. She wore a low-cut tank top; resting in the cleavage of her breasts was the same odd cross Jeff had seen her wearing the night before. Beneath the leather cord around her neck there was a large purple hickey.
"What're you doing today?" Lily asked.
"Seeing some friends."
"Calvary Youth?"
"Oh, no," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Not them." She drew her knees up in front of her and hugged her legs.
"Anyone I know?"
"Well, you said you were there last night. I didn't see you, though…. You weren't really there, were you?"
Lily glanced up at Jeff, as if to say,
Here goes.
"Yes, we were there, Nikki. I want to talk to you about that."
"'Bout what?"
"About what happened there."
"Mmm." Her brow wrinkled curiously. "Where were you? In the pool?"
"Nikki, why were you there?"
"Mace invited me. He's the guy who—"
"I know who he is. I want you to tell me what he did to you. You weren't just fooling around. There was blood and… and his tongue…" Her voice had become soft and a bit afraid. "What did he do?"
Nikki's eyes turned downward, and she picked absently at the blanket.
Lily whispered, "What about your baby?"
Her head jerked up with a gasp, and she looked, open-mouthed, at Lily, glancing twice at Jeff with embarrassment, humiliation.
"He knows, Nikki. He was there, too."
Nikki's mouth worked silently for a moment, and she finally said, "It's none of your business, you know, none of your goddamned business!"
Lily was obviously shocked at her language.
"I told you I couldn't keep it, Lily. I
couldn't!
"
"But why did you have him do it?" Lily asked, closing her eyes for a moment, as if hearing it all again. "Jesus Christ, Nikki, there's… there's something
wrong
with him, something very
wrong,
and you have to stay away from him!"
"No, no, Mace likes me, he wants me there. He won't lie to me like Reverend Bainbridge." She spat the name out bitterly.
Lily stood. "I'm going to talk to your mother about this, and—"
"Don't you
dare!
It's none of your business! You don't even know Mace. Why don't you come some night? He'd like to have—"
"I'm
not
going back in there."
Nikki smiled. "How come? He even has a band down there. They're gonna play Fantazm Wednesday night."
Jeff stepped forward and said, "Nikki, my sister's name is Mallory. Mallory Carr. Was she down there last night?"
"Yeah, Mallory, she was in the pool. I met her. But I didn't see you…."
"What's that?" Lily asked, pointing to the cross.
Mallory looked down at it and her face changed; her smile softened, and her eyes seemed to be seeing something else, something far more beautiful than the plain, palm-sized object around her neck.
"It's a Crucifax," she whispered.
"A what?"
"Mace gave it to me." She stared at it awhile longer but said nothing more.
Lily said, "Nikki, why do you want to go there? Why do you want to
be
with someone like that?"
Still looking at the Crucifax, Nikki replied, "He's good to us. He likes us, likes having us around. And… and he's gonna take us out of here."
"Out of where?" Jeff asked.
"The valley. Away from all this. Our parents, school, things like the… the fucking Calvary Youth," she whispered.
Lily stared slack-jawed at her friend as if she were a rude stranger.
"Where's he taking you?" Jeff asked.
Still without looking at him, Nikki said, "To someplace better. That's all he'd say. But I trust him." She looked at him then, somewhat defiantly. "We
all
trust him."
"When is he taking you away?"
"He's not sure yet, but he says he'll know when the time is right."
Lily frowned. "Do you feel all right, Nikki? You sound … different. Weird."
"I feel fine." She swept the covers back, swung her bare legs off the bed, and stood, suddenly lively. "In fact," she said, slipping the tank top over her head, "I feel great." Naked except for panties, her breasts moving slightly as she crossed the room, she tossed the tank top onto her bed and smiled at them. "I'm gonna take a shower. I've gotta go soon."
Jeff felt himself blush, and he turned toward the door to leave, self-consciously clearing his throat.
"
Jesus,
Nikki," Lily snapped, "what's happened to you?"
"Nothing," she replied cheerfully.
Out in the hall, Jeff heard movement behind the closed bathroom door; Mrs. Astin was throwing up. He went out to the living room and listened to the muffled voices coming from Nikki's bedroom. A few minutes later Lily came out, walking fast.
"Let's go," she said, her voice tense.
As they left the apartment Nikki called, "See you guys later!"
She sounded very happy.
J.R.'s first thought that morning was of Sheila. He'd dreamed about her all night long. His dreams were muddled, confused; some of the things Jeff had told him the night before were intertwined with events that had surrounded Sheila's death.
In his dream, J.R. saw his sister off in the distance, standing before a dark building. It was the Old Red Barn that had burned down just outside of El Cerrito the week after Sheila died. She went inside, moving slowly. J.R. was suddenly frozen with dread because he knew what was beneath that building. He couldn't see it, but he
sensed
it: filthy, winding tunnels and huge, dark rooms, cold and drafty, thick with cobwebs and black, smelly slime that dribbled down walls and pillars, alive with things that crept in the dark in wait for someone to enter. He ran to the building, his feet heavy as lead, and burst through the door, only to see flames licking the walls and ceiling, his sister standing in the middle of it all with a tall, pale, silver-haired man who turned to J.R. and smiled. J.R. called Sheila, but she seemed deaf to his voice, oblivious to the growing fire around her. The man opened his mouth, still smiling at J.R., and a long, fat snake with smooth, shiny scales oozed from between his lips. The head was not that of a snake, however; it was the small head of a pale, bushy-black-haired woman with cold, calculating eyes. She opened her little mouth and said, "You lose, big brother…."
There had been several variations of the dream, and he'd awakened suddenly after each one. None of them made much sense, but they all contained odd mixtures of familiar and unpleasant images.
J.R. knew very well that there were no tunnels or rooms beneath the Old Red Barn; those were images borrowed from Jeff's story of the night before. What disturbed him the most was the snake with the very familiar human head….
He got out of bed, fixed coffee and toast, and tried to read the
Times,
but he was preoccupied with Jeff and Lily.
Something had happened to so deeply upset them, but how could it have possibly been what they claimed? To satisfy its need for a logical explanation, his mind kept returning to drugs as an answer; surely they'd had some grass last night, maybe some mushrooms. Even if they had indeed seen everything they'd described, there was no explanation for the presence of Reverend Bainbridge. And if he did have a reason to be there, why didn't he try to stop what was happening? How could someone who professed to care so much about young people stand by and watch something so horrible?
The more he thought about it, the wilder it all seemed.
He couldn't finish his toast, and he quickly lost all interest in the paper. Listening to the rain against the window, he went to his briefcase and removed the Calvary Youth brochure Nikki Astin had given him. It gave the address of the Calvary Youth House, as well as the phone number and an invitation to the meetings and the Saturday brunch held every week. He decided to give Bainbridge a call and arrange to see him.
After dialing the number in the brochure, J.R. listened to the monotonous burring ring at the other end. It went on and on, and he was ready to hang up when he heard a thick, weary voice say, "Yes?"
"Hello, is this the Calvary Youth House?" he asked uncertainly.
"It is."
"My name is J.R. Haskell. I'm calling for Reverend Bainbridge?"