DoubleDown V (31 page)

“No, you’re my son. You’re my world. Without you, there isn’t anything else. I won’t let you go.”

“I’m not giving you a choice.”

“I was about to say the same thing to you.”

The events that followed were almost a blur to Karen. Only later, when she had time to truly process things, did she piece everything together.

First Penelope darted over to the bed, tugging at Karen’s pants. She really meant to do it, to shove those nodules up inside of Karen. Penelope was muttering something, an incantation. The words were not in English, and Karen didn’t recognize them as any language with which she was familiar. Perhaps Latin. Karen’s pants ripped and she screamed into the gag again.

But she wasn’t the only one screaming. She heard Bobby screaming as well. “Mother, no!” It sounded loud to her, and Karen wondered if the neighbors could hear it.

Then Karen saw something floating up from the foot of the bed, one of those wooden trunks kept there for storage. It hovered for a moment, as if hesitating, then streaked toward Penelope. She noticed it too late and couldn’t raise her arms in time to deflect it. It struck her in the head, breaking apart and spilling its contents like a piñata. Penelope dropped to the floor, out of Karen’s line of sight.

Then there was stillness, a quiet so profound Karen wondered if this was what being deaf was like. Then gradually she became aware of her own breathing, coming quick and labored through her nostrils. Her eyes were trained on the edge of the bed, halfexpecting Penelope to pop back up like the monster in some horror movie, returning for one final scare before sending the audience home.

Finally she glanced up, to find Bobby at the foot of the bed, looking at her with such a look of sorrow and remorse that it stung her heart. The ropes slid from her wrists, freeing her hands. She leveraged herself up and untied her feet, then tore the tape from her face. It felt as if it were ripping her skin off, but when she spit out the balled-up rag, her cry was more from relief than pain.

“I can never apologize for my part in what has happened,” Bobby said. “I was weak, I let my mother control me, and because of that, people have gotten hurt. You’ve gotten hurt.”

Karen didn’t respond. She buttoned her pants with trembling hands, then peered over the side of the bed and saw Penelope, on her stomach with her head turned away, not moving.

“Is she dead?” Bobby asked.

She didn’t want to, but Karen climbed off the bed and knelt next to the librarian, grabbing a wrist and feeling for a pulse. It was there, faint but steady. “She’s still alive.”

“Good, I didn’t want to kill her. Even after everything she’s…. You better go before she wakes up.”

“Agreed. What about you?”

“Well, I’m hoping you’ll do me a favor before you leave.”

Karen was about to ask what favor, but of course she knew. Even after everything, she found herself shaking her head. “Bobby, there has to be another way.”

“There isn’t. I don’t want to be stuck here, bound to my mother, forever.”

“Maybe I could…I don’t know, switch the spell or something. If I take the tonsils, maybe you’ll be bound to me instead of your mother.”

“And I’ll still be stuck here, in this in-between state. I don’t want that. I’m ready to move on.”

“But Bobby—”

“You love me…don’t you?”

There was no use denying it. Karen nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks.

“And I love you. Because of you I finally found the strength to stand up to my mother. I’ve let her control me too long, but you gave me courage I didn’t even know I had. And I’m not afraid to find out what lies beyond this life. Because of the courage you gave me.”

Karen was sobbing now. She tried to speak but couldn’t.

“Please, do this for me. Set me free. There’s still a fire burning in the living room.”

At first Karen didn’t move, just cried, then she nodded, wiped her face, and turned to Penelope’s prone form. Her right hand was still clenched in a fist, and Karen had to pry the woman’s fingers apart to get at the tonsils. Ordinarily the idea of touching something like this would have grossed her out, but she didn’t even flinch.

Before she stood, she noticed that among the items spilled from the busted trunk were several of the talismans Penelope had made. Without thinking about it, Karen retrieved her bracelet and slipped it onto her wrist.

Bobby followed her into the living room. The fire was still burning, but barely. Soon there would be nothing more than embers. Still, it was enough to make the room uncomfortably warm, and perspiration popped out on Karen’s forehead as she knelt before the fireplace. She remained there for a moment, then looked up at Bobby. “How can I do this? How can I say good-bye to you?”

“It’s not really good-bye. I mean, I’m proof positive that there’s life after death. I’m just going on a new adventure. Maybe I’ll see you there someday.”

“I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you, too. Despite everything, I’m glad we met. Carrying this love with me makes the mystery lying ahead of me a lot less scary.”

Karen wanted to say something profound, deliver some parting words that were eloquent and memorable, but all that came out was, “I love you.”

Bobby nodded and smiled…and waited.

Karen turned to the fire, took a deep breath, and threw the tonsils in. The flame flared, shooting sparks up the chimney. There was a vaguely unpleasant odor as the bits of flesh shrivelled and charred.

“How long do you think it will take, until they’re ash?” Karen asked. When she received no response, she turned back to Bobby….

Only to find herself alone in the room. Bobby was gone. And not just faded or out of the room—she felt his absence like a void in the center of her being. He was no more, finally at peace. At rest.

The tears came again, from a seemingly bottomless well. She got shakily to her feet and headed for the door. She was halfway across the room when she heard a creaking from behind her. She turned, and Penelope was standing just at the mouth of the hallway…holding a pistol.

“Is it done?” she asked in a croak. A gash at her hairline had sent blood down one side of her face, creating a grotesque Halloween mask.

Karen nodded mutely. She was too numb to be frightened by the gun.

“So he’s gone, really gone. All these years, all my efforts…for nothing. My boy is dead, and I’m never going to get him back.”

“Maybe now he can finally be happy.”

Penelope made a noise that may have been a laugh or a scoff, it was hard to tell. “
Happy
…the word seems to have no meaning to me anymore.”

The librarian raised the gun, but she didn’t point it at Karen. She simply stared down at it, as if it were a mysterious object that she was trying to identify. “This isn’t for you. I figure if I can’t be with my son in this life, maybe we can be together in the next. Although if the Christians are right, I’m probably bound for a place that isn’t exactly big on joyful family reunions.”

Karen could think of nothing to say to this, so she said nothing.

Finally Penelope’s gaze found the girl, and she looked weary and suddenly old. As if she’d aged fifteen years in a single evening. “You should leave now.”

Karen felt she should do something to try to dissuade Penelope from what she was planning to do, attempt to stop the woman.

But instead she did as she was told. She left.

Karen walked slowly through the graveyard. The day was overcast but warm. To the east she could hear thunder rumbling, but it seemed to be moving away. She was wearing faded jeans and a Tori Amos T-shirt, her hair pulled back. In her hands she carried two items. She kept her eyes trained on the ground in front of her.

Her parents couldn’t understand why she’d wanted to make a trip to some little town in Wisconsin during her summer break, but Karen had told them she was visiting a friend from Furman. Which wasn’t exactly a lie.

She knew she’d reached her destination even before she looked up at the grave marker. It was relatively small and simple, the name engraved deep in the stone.

ROBERT ANTHONY JERSEY

Blinking back tears, Karen knelt down, cradling the two items in her lap.

“Hi, Bobby. I had to visit,” she said. She’d thought she would feel silly talking aloud to a grave, but it didn’t feel silly after all. “Coming here and seeing your grave is the only way I can put the whole mess behind me and move on.”

Karen paused, glancing over at the empty plot of land next to Bobby’s grave, wondering if one day Penelope would be buried there. She didn’t know what had become of the librarian, if the woman had gone through with her threatened suicide or not.

Penelope had never returned to campus; Robin had told Karen that she’d sent in a written letter of resignation containing no real explanation. Karen had driven by the witch’s house, only to find it empty. Her current whereabouts were a mystery to Karen, but she wasn’t that curious. If the woman wanted to disappear, Karen was more than happy to let her.

“I considered transferring to another school,” she continued after a moment. “I mean, after everything that went down and all, but in the end that felt a little too much like running away. I think I’m going to stick it out at Furman. I won’t be working in the library next semester, though. I’ve got a work-study gig lined up with the school’s literary magazine. They even published my poem, ‘Nothing More than People,’ in last semester’s issue.

“I don’t see much of Brittany these days, and she won’t be returning to Furman. She’s transferring to University of Pennsylvania to be closer to Derek. I hear the two of them are engaged.

“The coven pestered me to join, but I said I was taking a break from witchcraft. Although, to be honest, I’ve kept in touch with them, so I guess I haven’t completely ruled it out. Turns out Willow isn’t such a brat after all. We’ve sort of become friends. We’ve been emailing and texting all summer, and I’ve promised to take her to the Coffee Underground Open Mic Poetry Night in the fall.

“I guess the point of all of this, if there is a point, is that I wanted to tell you that I’m okay. Life isn’t all roses and kittens, but it’s good. It’s a life. Maybe not a normal life, if such a thing exists, but I’m happy. At least on my way to happy.”

Karen took the piece of notebook paper from her lap and unfolded it. “I wrote a poem for you. I read it at Open Mic Night just before I left for summer vacation. Went over pretty well with the crowd. Even Purple Scarf liked it, I think. Probably because it doesn’t rhyme.”

She cleared her throat and glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, now starting to feel a little foolish. Then she read:

You entered my life unexpectedly,

And exited the same way.

But the impression you left was deep and lasting.

Not like in the romance novels,

But real love never is.

This is much more profound and true.

You were the first person

To ever make me feel noticed,

Make me feel special,

Make me feel like I wasn’t alone in this world.

Those things linger

Even though you are gone.

What you taught me about myself,

About life,

And about love,

I will carry with me always

Because I carry you in my heart

After she was finished, she gently folded the paper again and placed it on the ground just before the tombstone. “I call it ‘Bobby’s Song.’ Stupid title, I know.”

She lifted the other item she’d brought with her, the bracelet Penelope had made, the talisman that had once allowed Karen to see Bobby. She laid it atop the folded poem. If a strong wind rose, it wouldn’t do much to hold the paper down, but that was okay. This was just a gesture.

Raindrops began splattering onto the tombstone, the ground, onto Karen. Perhaps the storm wasn’t moving away after all.

“I have to go now.” Karen placed her fingertips against her lips, then brushed her fingers along the name on the marker. “I carry you in my heart.”

Karen stood, turned, and left the graveyard.

THE END

Mark Allan Gunnells is the author of such books as
Tales from the Midnight Shift
,
The Summer of Winters
,
Asylum
, and the forthcoming
Welcome to the Graveyard.
He has been writing since the age of ten, and publishing since 2005. He lives in Greer, SC, with his partner, and he loves to set his stories in the surrounding areas.