Point Pleasant (67 page)

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Authors: Jen Archer Wood

Tags: #Illustrated Novel, #Svetlana Fictionalfriend, #Gay Romance, #Jen Archer Wood, #Horror, #The Mothman, #LGBT, #Bisexual Lead, #Interstitial Fiction, #West Virginia, #Point Pleasant, #Bisexual Romance

BOOK: Point Pleasant
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“So you’re staying around for a while? I guess you can just come and go as you please.”

“I’ve decided to move home, actually.”

“You?” Kate tittered. “
You’re
moving home?”

“I think I stayed away long enough.”

“What the hell is going on with you, Ben?” Kate demanded. “Oh god, you
are
sick, aren’t you? Is it cancer? Is it a dude thing? Is it something with your balls?”

“Jesus, Katie!” Ben exclaimed. “My balls are fine, thank you very much for asking. Please never enquire about them again.”

“Did they drug you?” Kate pressed. “Did someone give you a Dixie cup full of Kool-Aid?”

Ben’s eyes flickered up to the road sign that pointed them toward the town. “It’s home.”

Kate seemed taken aback and did not speak for a few minutes. “The house is yours now, you know.”

“What?” Ben looked to his sister after he rolled to a stop at a red light.

“Dad’s will. He had me draw it up a few years ago. He left you the house. Asked me if I minded. I joked and said I didn’t care as long as I got the Eames set.” Kate trailed off and turned to stare out the passenger window. “Anyway. He just wanted to make sure you always had somewhere to go.”

Ben sat behind the wheel of the car and remained unmoving even as the light changed to green. The car behind them honked its horn, and he hit the accelerator.

“He said he told you.”

“He didn’t,” Ben said. Kate regarded him with an unnerving closeness as he digested the new information. He made a left onto River Bend Road and huffed out a deep breath through his nose. “He really sucked at that whole talking thing.”

“Now you know where we get it from.”

Ben rolled his eyes, but he figured it was true enough. When he turned onto Main Street, Kate straightened.

“What the hell?” she asked, gesturing to the burnt remains of the Gazette.

“I told you it’s been weird around here.”

“What happened?” Kate asked. “Was anyone hurt?”

“Yeah,” Ben replied softly. “A few deaths, actually. Richard.”

“Fulwell?” Kate asked, snapping her attention back to Ben.

“Yeah. Gas explosion,” Ben said, opting to sidestep his adventure into the paranormal in favor of the generic, completely natural excuse that Grant Harper had balked at just moments before he put a bullet through his brain.

“That’s awful!”

“I know,” Ben said. “Town’s trying to move past it, best I can tell.”

He parked in front of the house—
his house
—on Cardinal Lane and climbed out of the Malibu. He opened the passenger door for Kate and offered his hand to help her stand.

Kate stared up at the house. Her features were lit by the overhanging moon, and her green eyes had taken on a liquid sheen in its light.

“It’s weird,” she said, rubbing a hand over her belly while Ben took her suitcase out of the trunk. “Knowing he’s not here.”

“You’re telling me. The first night…” he trailed off when he thought of Andrew’s office and the cigarette he had smoked. “It’s just really empty.”

“Well, it’s not empty tonight,” Kate said. She slid her arm around Ben’s back and put on an encouraging smile, but it seemed forced.

“It’s cold,” Ben said, tugging his sister toward the walkway.

Inside, Kate took his coat, then her own, and hung them up beside Andrew’s black rain jacket. They stood in the entry hall and absorbed the dreary hush of the house.

“You know what would be great?” Kate asked.

“What’s that?”

“Pizza from Roderick’s,” Kate said. “If he’s still in business, that is. Extra cheese.”

 

 

 

“So I’m just sitting in the middle of the floor of the spare room—now the nursery, mind you—reading this baby feng shui book,” Kate said, and she gestured over the empty pizza box. “Margaret walks in because she had to drop off some briefs for me to go over, and I start waving my arms around about how the crib has to go in that exact spot because it has the best energy.
The best
, Ben.
The best
.” She accented the point with another flail of her hands. “Poor Margaret. She’s been lovely, though. Very attentive.”

“Sounds like she’s the best, Kate.
The best.


The
best
, Ben,” Kate agreed and took a long sip of water.

“You’re gonna be the best mom.
The best.

“I’m excited,” Kate said with a grin. “So sue me.”

“I’d rather not.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, and Ben nursed a beer while he appraised his sister. He knew people said pregnant women had a glow about them, but Kate seemed especially serene as she lounged with her hands resting protectively over her stomach.

“You look happy, Katie.”

“I am,” Kate replied. “I mean, I’m sad about Dad. And life feels like a bit of a mess. But in general, yeah, I’m happy.”

“I’m glad,” Ben said.

“You seem good too. Better than when I last saw you.”

“Oh?”

“You seem different,” Kate said, assessing him with the same perplexed expression Marietta had donned after the ritual. “But I can’t quite figure out
how
you’re different. Are you really moving back?”

“Yeah,” Ben said and took a swig of his beer. “It feels right.”

“Good,” Kate replied, and she went quiet for a moment. “I should have told you about Nic not getting married. I saw him a few times when I’d come to visit Dad. He always asked about you.”

“What did you say?”

“That we didn’t talk much or that you were keeping busy. He asked me for your email address once. I told him you hated computers.”

Ben let out a humorless laugh.

“I was just doing what I thought was best for you, Benji.”

“I get it,” Ben said. “I’d probably have done the same thing if the situation was reversed.”

“Somehow I think you’d have been more aggressive.”

“What, like how I’d be if I ever saw David Brereton again?”

“Something like that,” Kate said. “But I
am
sorry. I should have told you. I was just trying to protect my little brother.”

“It’s not your fault, Kate,” Ben said. “It’s not like I’d have come running back just because you found out he didn’t get married.”

“He still made you feel like shit,” Kate said, stating the obvious. “I’m not saying I approve of this or him, but you do seem happy. And if that’s because of Nic, then I’m sorry if I hindered it.”

Ben gave a weak shrug and toyed with the label on his bottle.

“You’re a jackass, but I
do
love you, Benji,” Kate said, putting her hand over his to still his fidgeting.

“Gee, thanks,” Ben said, wrinkling his nose. “I love you too, Katie.”

“I should turn in,” Kate said, sliding her empty water glass across the table. “The flight took it out of me. And I told the funeral director I’d drop off Dad’s uniform in the morning if you hadn’t.”

“I did,” Ben said, feeling the pleasant buzz that his beer had offered slip away. “Got the death certificate too.”

Kate faltered and crossed her hands on the table. “Can I see it?”

Ben nodded and reached for his messenger bag from where it was draped over the back of one of the chairs.

“I can’t believe you still carry that,” Kate said, sighing. “At least I know what to get you for Christmas.”

“Don’t you dare,” Ben said, rifling through the contents of the bag. “It’s my good luck charm.”

“I feel like I should call you Dr. Jones and ask for walking directions to the Temple of Doom.”

“Just follow the trail of bat shit,” Ben said as he pushed the copies of the death certificate across the table.

“I said the Temple of Doom, not Point Pleasant,” Kate said. She peered down at the papers and trailed her manicured fingertips over the line featuring Andrew’s official cause of death. “Died on impact. Does that mean he didn’t feel anything?”

“I don’t know,” Ben said, and he scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I hope so.”

He stood abruptly, grabbed Kate’s empty glass, and walked to the sink. There was an arm around his shoulder then, and he glanced over to see his sister at his side. Kate had tears in her eyes. Ben pulled her into a hug and squeezed his eyelids shut when Kate returned the embrace. They parted after a few seconds, and Kate wiped at her wet cheeks.

“See you in the morning.”

“Sleep well, Katie.”

Kate walked out of the kitchen, and Ben listened for the sound of her footsteps on the stairs. He had put her suitcase in her old room on the third floor in the converted attic before the pizza arrived.

Ben took a deep breath and cleared the table, mainly to keep himself moving, and he grabbed another beer from the fridge when the kitchen was tidy. He resumed his seat and took in the silence that fell over the house after the slight bumps and creaks from upstairs faded and indicated that his sister had settled into bed.

The digital clock on the stove told Ben it was nearly eleven o’clock. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. His fingers raced across the touchscreen, typing a message to Nicholas with only two words: “
Boy Scout
.”

Ben grabbed his laptop and opened its lid to find the Word document still open on his screen. The phone chimed, and he knew before he checked that the text was from Nicholas.


Good evening to you too.


So civilized,
” Ben typed
and sent.

Another message arrived seconds later. “
I love you.

Ben could not hide a grin as he read, then re-read, the words. “
I love you. See any ghosts tonight?


Vampires, mostly. Sparkly ones. Not impressed with the youth of today.


Stake that pop cultural phenomenon in the heart immediately, please.

Nicholas sent a smiley face in reply, and Ben mulled over its surreal presence underneath Nicholas’ name.


Still on duty?


Unfortunately
.”

Ben sighed with a disappointment that he had not anticipated and sent a frowny face. He put the phone down and took a sip of his beer. The white glow of the Word document drew his attention, and he read over his outline.

The start of the story was missing
something
, some kind of impetus to move the action along. Ben perched his chin against the palm of his hand and rested his elbow on the edge of the table.

The story could not be told from the perspective of the angel. It was too
foreign
. Readers would need a likable, compelling, and—most importantly—relatable protagonist. Ben smiled as he thought of Bill Tucker poised on the hood of his old blue truck with a Remington shotgun.

Ben spent the next hour adjusting his outline and writing up a general proposal for his new book. He selected the text and copied it into an email to Elliot.

His phone beeped, and Ben checked the message. “
Still awake?


Very
.”

Ben waited for a response and was surprised when the phone rang.

“Ben,” Nicholas said from the other end of the line.

“You sound tired, Sheriff.”

Nicholas hummed. “Did Kate arrive okay?”

“She’s upstairs sleeping.”

“Ah.”

“You home?”

“Sure am.”

“In bed?”

“Mmm,” Nicholas mumbled, and Ben could practically see the other man curled up under his covers and on the cusp of sleep.

“Good night, Nic.”

“Good night, Ben.”

When Ben returned to his laptop, he found a reply from Elliot. “
Angels, eh? I like it. Maybe we can overthrow the vampire craze. Get to work
.”

Ben let out a small laugh as Elliot’s sentiments echoed the text Ben had sent to Nicholas just an hour prior. He finished the beer, grabbed his laptop, and headed to his father’s office where he sat in the armchair and typed for the next three hours to form his opening scene.

 

 

 

Ben woke to the obnoxious beep of a text alert. He had dragged himself upstairs when his fingers rebelled against the keyboard, and he slept deeply but dreamed of
the light
.

He squinted at the sun that poured in through the window over the bed and covered his face with a pillow. His phone beeped again, and he grumbled as he grabbed it from its place on the bedside table.


You should be in bed with me
,” said the message from Nicholas.


With you or under you?
” Ben replied.


About to shower. Will have to make it a cold one. Thanks
.”


Good morning to you too, Sunshine.

Ben smiled when there was no response. He stood and stretched before he stuck his head out the bedroom door. The house was quiet.

He showered and dressed in jeans, but he deliberated on a shirt selection before he settled on a white button-down. He whistled ‘Blue Sky’ to himself as he flipped his collar up and knotted his favorite black tie.

Ben found Kate poking at Mr. Coffee in the kitchen. “Morning,” he greeted. “Here, let me. You have to jab it into submission sometimes.”

Kate stood back and scowled at the machine. “It’s an antique.”

“It
was
Dad’s.” Ben sighed as if that explained everything.

“It’s so pompous, though,” Kate said. “I mean,
Mr. Coffee
. Honestly. You’d expect it to be wearing a top hat and monocle.”

Ben startled and could not help a faint laugh at his sister’s observation. “It’s times like this I know we are related.”

“It’s certainly not because we share such sunny morning dispositions,” Kate said. “I’m surprised you’re even awake. I heard you bumping around at three A.M.”

“I was working on something,” Ben said. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a rock. All I want to do lately is sleep.”

“Yeah, well, you deserve it. You’re having a freaking baby, Katie.”

“I know, right?” Kate gave a soft laugh. “It’s unreal
.

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