Ghost Program (14 page)

   “Good.  It hurts to breathe.  Mom, is that my breakfast?  Can you drop a couple of pills out of that plastic bottle onto it?”

   She set the tray down on my bedside table, found my prescription bottle on the desk, and shook loose two pills, placing them on the tray.  I drank them with my orange juice, then eyed the rest of the plate.  There was eggs, bacon, a buttermilk biscuit, and a piece of grapefruit.  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten so well!

   “There’s reporters coming by the house, Sam.  I try to shoo them away.  They’re saying there’s an investigation concerning your college instructor and that they found dead bodies in a yacht.  Just don’t go outside; it’d be awfully upsetting.  The computer programming class is being taught by a substitute, and he assured me that you could complete your lab work from home, provided you had a working computer.”

   “That man should have never taken a teaching job,” I said.  “Look at what he’s put me through.”

   “All the more reason to stay home; it makes me uncomfortable to have people see you like this.  But I still don’t understand what happened.  Why’d he take you?”

   “He’s the Seaside Strangler, mom.  I was just his next victim.”

   “My god, from the newspaper.”

   “Yes, that is likely why the reporters are showing such an interest.  This is the culmination of a mystery that’s been in the news for months.  All those missing girls.”

   “You could’ve become one of them.”

   “Not me.  I’m too lucky.”

   “You know, Sam, I should apologize,” said mom.

   “What for?”

   “I probably shouldn’t have danced with that vacuum salesman the other night.”  She
did
remember.  “I could tell that I had upset you, and well I suppose that my behavior that night was rather insensitive, and well... unmotherly.”

   “Mom, it’s not... I mean, it wasn’t a big deal.”

   “Maybe not, but it hurt you to see me act that way.  I don’t know why I felt like I needed to dance with him.  I guess because he made me feel, you know, appreciated, desired, young....”  She didn’t mention that she’d been drunk.

 
I
didn’t mention Brent’s comment about the man’s missing eyes.  “I’d forgotten all about it.”

   “I know I don’t always act, well, my age.  And maybe sometimes I wear too much makeup, but.... well, I was raised in fairly conservative, religious upbringing.  You, of course, remember grandmother.”

   I did remember an old-fashioned home filled with crucifixes and statues of Mary.  “Sure.”

   “I suppose I need to be this way, to be myself, to carve out my own existence, you know?  But I should have drawn the line at dancing with a stranger.  That was in bad taste.”

   “I didn’t care.  I told you if it makes you happy...”  Was mom going through more of a mid-life crisis than usual?

   “I’ll bring a television upstairs and some movies that you can slip into it since I doubt you’re up to any schoolwork yet.  And I almost forgot, but I should bring you your phone.”

   “I guess that’d be okay.”

   “Be just a minute.”  She left the room.

   The rest of the day passed uneventfully until around noon when Brent called.  I was sitting on my bed, eating a hamburger and some mashed potatoes, my mind hazy and slow from the medication, when I heard my phone ring.

   “Sam?”  It was Brent’s voice.  “I didn’t know if you’d gotten your phone back.  This is the first time you’ve answered at this number in a few days.”

   “Sorry, mom had it.”

   “I’m taking the afternoon off of work and heading down to see you.  If I get on I-5 now, I should only be an hour and a half or so.  I worried so much about you last night.”

   “They’re gonna let me finish my classes from home,” I said.  “So I’m here all day.”

   “I can’t wait to see you,” he said.

   “I feel like shit and look it, too.  Will you still have feelings for me if you see my banged up face?  It’s not very feminine, you know.  There’s a gash on my forehead.  I look ugly.”

   “Sam, I’d like you no matter how bad you looked.  Don’t be like that.”

   “Would you like me if I were seventy and had wrinkles?”

   “Of course I would.”

   “What if I grew a beard?”

   “Now you’re just being weird.”

   “What if an alien put a seed pod in me and then I gave birth to a squid?”

   “What?”

   “That’s the pills talking, sorry.  Hurry up and get here.”

   “See you soon,” he said.

   The phone went dead, and I went back to my lunch.  I finished the plate off and put it on the floor.  I crawled across the bed and inserted a zombie thriller into the DVD slot on the television.  Mom had set it up on a portable stand, and as I pushed the play button, I wondered what had inspired her to bring me such a strange selection of movies.  Besides Zombie Flesh #2, there was a copy of House on Haunted Hill and Without a Paddle, which is such a bad film, it doesn’t even merit being described here.  The zombie film was about the efforts of a local hillbilly population to rid the town of zombies using baseball bats and hunting rifles.  By the end of the film, the entire town had been turned, and the humans had all been eliminated.  I watched the film with remarkable disinterest while drooling on my pillow until the movie turned itself off. 

   Bored, I looked out the window and saw Gregg pacing around outside.  There was a cement fountain in the middle of the yard that was never used or cleaned out but just sat ignored and full of dead, dirty leaves.  I waved, but Gregg didn’t notice me as he walked around the perimeter of the fence.  I closed the curtain, lay down, and stared at the ceiling. Apathy was fast becoming my sole trait. 

   The doorbell rang, and then I heard footsteps trudging up the stairs leading to my room.  If the ringing doorbell had been a Starbucks Mochaccino coffee, then the sound of footfalls on the stairs was a hot fudge, banana-topped sundae covered in maraschino cherries and marshmallow creme.  But putting all food imagery aside, someone was on their way to visit me!

   Brent opened the door, holding a box of Godiva chocolates, running his surprised eyes over my clobbered figure while wearing a friendly, but anxious smile, then he met my gaze with his shining grey eyes as he dropped his heavy backpack on the wood floor.  He came to me, content but slightly shaken as my hand reached for his, drawing it gently towards my breasts, close to my beating heart, and he delivered a passionate but very soft kiss to my cut mouth as I pulled him yet closer by hooking my fingers under the hem of his Levis.  We stayed that way for a brief moment, then he sat up and spoke gently as he handed me the chocolate box.  I left my head against the pillow while Brent sat close by.

   “My gosh, Sam.  Your leg, the cast, are you sure you’re alright?  Look at you!”

   “My mind is undamaged, my body not so much.  I’ve got two broken ribs and a fractured ankle.”

   “Does it hurt?”

   “Yes, but they gave me white pills which keep me sufficiently blitzed.  Are you going to stay?”  I couldn’t keep the smile from my face.  There was satisfaction in knowing I hadn’t been forgotten.

   “I’ll stay as long as I can.  My god, have you seen the reporters around your house?”

   “Mom told me.”

   Brent traced the bruise along my cheekbone with his finger, then carefully drew an outline around the stitched gash on my forehead, and finally touched my split lip.

   “Does it look that bad?” I asked.

   “Oh, Sam, you could never look bad....you just look hurt as hell.  Let me look at you.”

   I felt butterflies in my stomach as he lifted the front of my shirt up to my neck and softly ran his hand over the purple swells of flesh on my belly and ribs.

   “This is not good,” he said.  “Have you ever thought of hiring a bodyguard?”

   “And where would I find one of those?” I asked drily.

   “I’m not sure.”  He ran his hand along my breasts.  “Well, these gals don’t look as sore, but I wonder about the rest of you.”

   I squirmed a little, uncomfortable because I wasn’t used to anyone touching me like that.  I gazed downward at myself; Brent’s hand still rested warmly on my breast, and my heart pounded beneath it at double its normal pace.  A smirk on his face, he gave the breast a squeeze, then pulled the hem of my shirt down so it covered me.

   “How do you feel, now?” he asked.

   “Actually, it hurts to move.  Can I ask a little favor?  Say no if it makes you uncomfortable.”

   “Anything.”

   “Sneak into the pantry and get a bottle of wine?”

   “Uh, Sam.  If your mom saw me do that...I mean, you’re a little young.”

   “Well, I wasn’t saying
Get caught
.  She won’t notice if you hide it underneath a few other things, like a box of crackers and a liter of pop.  Just go to the back of the pantry.  There should be some wine bottles in a large box on the floor.  The soda is on the second shelf.”

   “I’ll try, but should my mission fail, don’t be too upset.  This is outside the scope of what I’d normally agree to for anyone, even you, but I’m going to make an exception since you’ve been maimed.”

   “I appreciate it.”  I gave his hand a squeeze.

   “You better.”  He frowned.  “Well, I guess I should head downstairs then.”

   “I’ll be right here,” I said.

   He kissed the bruise on my cheek and left out the door.  I stayed on my back and studied the ceiling some more.

   I had conflicting feelings about Brent.  When he was gone, I felt a painful yearning for his return, but when he was close to me, I experienced a mixture of happiness and embarrassment.  I’d never been in a serious relationship and wondered if it was a blessing or a huge violation of my privacy.  When Brent had looked at the unsightly bruises on my stomach, I realized that there was very little about myself that I could conceal from him any longer.  The more time he spent with me, the more he’d become acquainted with my sterling qualities as well as my shameful imperfections.  Was I ready for that level of intimacy?

   The door slowly opened, and he came into my room, carrying more boxes and bottles than he had arms for.

   “I didn’t see her downstairs, your mom, but just in case, I grabbed two boxes of crackers, a can of squeeze cheese, and a liter of soda to disguise the wine bottle underneath.  I almost dropped all of it coming up the stairs.”  He dumped his catch on my computer desk.

   “It wouldn’t have mattered if she did catch you.  She catches me drinking all the time and never says anything.  But it’s better she didn’t.  Might’ve made you look creepy.”

   “Well, I wouldn’t want to look creepy.”

   “You know what I mean.”

   “Do you want any of this?”

   “Can you open the bottle and bring me a pill out of that orange bottle, there?  If I stop hurting, I may be able to sit up and visit for awhile.”

   “Jesus, are you sure you should be drinking with this stuff?” asked Brent as he studied the prescription bottle.

   “Don’t be so sanctimonious,” I said.  “The alcohol will give it a nice kick.”

   “As you wish, your highness,” he said and handed me a pill and an open bottle of wine.

   “Have some yourself.”

   “Just a little.  I’ve got to drive back to Seattle.”

   “No, you don’t.  You can stay here.  If mom gives me a hard time about it, I’ll just start to cry.  They’ll give in to me.  They think my mind is shattered; they think I’m damaged goods.  Poor Sam, she’s been abused by the Seaside Strangler.  I’m going to exploit my situation and get whatever I want.  And for now, I want you.  Please stay?  I know it’ll be an early drive back, but we never get to see each other.  I was so frightened on that boat.  I thought I was going to die.  I kept thinking
I wish Brent was here; I wouldn’t be so scared if he was here with me
.”  I gave him a smug look, certain I’d gained his pity.

   “I won’t leave if you don’t want me to,” he said.  “But wow, the Seaside Strangler.”  He shook his head.  “That was two guys.”

   “A couple of psychos.”

   “A couple of dead psychos.”

   “I could’ve been the one that died.”

   “You were too much for them.”

   “The wine’s starting to kick in.  It feels good.”

   “Do you want me to help you sit up?”

   “I can do it.”

   “Let me help.”  Brent gathered two pillows and placed them by the headboard, then held my hand as he pulled me up, positioning the pillows behind my back.  “Room on the bed for one more?”

   “Sure.”  I handed him the wine bottle.

   He took a swallow and handed it back to me.  “What am I going to do with you?  Seaside’s become too dangerous a town for you.”