Resurrection Dreams (4 page)

Vicki, stunned, felt herself swaying. She grabbed Ace’s arm to steady herself.

Somebody started to scream. Then everyone seemed to be yelling or shrieking.

“My God!”

“Stop him!”

“What’s he doing?”

“Melvin, for godsake!”

“Do something!”

Instead of trying to stop Melvin, the people at the front of the group were backing away.

Melvin went on with business as if he were alone.

He clamped a jumper cable to each of Darlene’s thumbs, then leaped aside, shouting, “RISE! RISE! COME ON, BITCH, RISE!”

Darlene didn’t rise. She just sat there. The battery charge seemed to have no effect at all.

“I COMMAND YOU TO RISE!” Melvin yelled. He rushed behind the wheelchair, grabbed its handles and shook it as if trying to stir her into action. “COME ON! GET UP!”

Darlene shimmied and swayed. Her head wobbled. She didn’t get up.

“UP! UP! I COMMAND YOU!”

Mr. Peters leaped over the tangle of concertina wire.

Melvin jerked the handles up. The wheelchair tipped forward, hurling Darlene from her seat. Mr. Peters yelped as the body tumbled at him. He ducked under it.

Darlene flopped onto him. Her head came off, rolled down his back, and dropped face-first into the razor wire.

Melvin gave the screaming crowd a big, idiotic grin.

HOMECOMING

You’ll be living here, Vicki told herself. You can’t avoid him forever, so you might as well go ahead and get it over with.

There was enough gas left to reach Ace’s, so she didn’t absolutely have to stop. But that would leave the U-Haul with an empty tank and she needed to drive forty miles to Blayton tomorrow once she finished unloading at the new apartment Ace had found for her.

Maybe the Arco station at the other end of town would still be open. It used to close down early, but its hours might’ve changed.

Just go ahead and stop at Melvin’s, she thought.

Though she was still at least a mile from the Ellsworth city limits, the decision made her heart thud faster. The steering wheel felt slick in her hands. Cool trickles slid down her sides all the way to the waistband of her shorts. She wiped a hand on the front of her blouse, then fastened the two top buttons she had opened earlier to let the air in.

Maybe he won’t even be on duty, she thought. He could’ve hired a kid, or someone, to run the place. God knows, he could afford to.

He shouldn’t have come back to Ellsworth. What was he, a glutton for punishment? He’d been an outcast even before he flipped out at the Science Far, and nobody was ever likely to let him forget the Darlene Morgan business.

When Ace told her on the phone last year that Melvin had returned, she’d been so appalled that she had given a lot of thought to changing her own plans. As much as she looked forward to returning to Ellsworth once she finished her residency, the idea of living in the same town as Melvin made her queasy. Maybe he was “stable,” maybe he would never do anything crazy again, but she knew that every time she saw him she would remember his Amazing Miracle Machine.

Still, Ellsworth was home. Even though her parents had moved to Blayton during her first year at medical school, it was Ellsworth that she longed for: the quiet, familiar streets of her childhood, the shops she used to visit, the woods and river, her friends. It was where she had been carefree and happy and where she had fallen in love.

Knowing that Melvin Dobbs had returned there after his release from the institution took away some of the town’s nostalgic glow.

It might have been enough to make Vicki change her plans about returning. Except for one thing.

A $25,000.00 loan from Dr. Gaines, offered to Vicki, and accepted, on the condition that she return to Ellsworth and help him in his family practice until the loan was paid back. A great deal, especially since she had always hoped to practice in Ellsworth. And she’d looked forward to working with Charlie Gaines, a charming old guy she liked a lot.

Her obligation to the doctor removed any real possibility of avoiding Ellsworth, where she wanted to live anyway, so she had resigned herself to an eventual encounter with Melvin.

The encounter had been eventual a year ago.

Now, it was imminent.

Vicki felt sick.

Calm down, she told herself. It’s no big deal. He’s not going to do anything to me.

Rounding the bend in River Road, she saw the lighted service station ahead. There was Melvin standing slouched in front of a car, apparently writing its license plate number on a credit card receipt.

The way he was dressed, he might have looked ridiculous. He wore a baggy, bright Hawaiian shirt, plaid Bermuda shorts and dark socks that sagged around his ankles. But he didn’t look ridiculous; there was nothing funny about it. Vicki doubted that anything about Melvin, however odd, could ever strike her as amusing.

Her courage faltered.

Go to the Arco tomorrow, she thought.

But that would only postpone the inevitable. Better to face a nasty situation than to put it off and keep dwelling on it.

She slowed down, let out a shaky breath and swung off the road. The car was pulling away from the full-service island. She started for the self-service pumps, then changed her mind. This would be bad enough without having to get out of the truck. Especially the way she was dressed. So she drove to the full service area and shut off the engine.

Melvin hobbled over to her window, peered in, and tipped his head to one side. His lower eye narrowed. Up close, his face looked heavier than she remembered. Uglier, too. His eyes seemed bigger and farther apart, his black eyebrows bushier, his lips thicker. His long hair was combed straight back over the top of his head, and slicked down.

“I know you,” he said.

“Vicki Chandler. How are you doing, Melvin?”

He leaned closer. He’d been eating garlic. “Vicki. Gosh.” His head bobbed and he smiled. “Last time I saw you, you was standing on a chair looking green.” He chuckled, puffing his garlic breath into her face.

She wondered if it was a good sign that he could talk about that day, laugh about it.

“Well,” she said, “I was a little shocked.”

“I guess you wasn’t the only one.” He winked. “That was the whole point, you know.”

“The whole point?”

“Giving Darlene a jump-start like that. Shoot, you don’t think I thought it’d work, do you? No way. Only a crazy person’d think it’d work. Dead’s dead, know what I mean?”

“Sure looked like you were trying,” Vicki said, astonished that he was discussing this with her, explaining himself.

“Put on a good show, didn’t I?”

“Why’d you do it?”

“Got tired of being pestered. You remember how the kids used to pester me. You was always nice. You was about the only one didn’t used to talk mean or knock me around. I figured it this way. I figured they was always after me on account of me being kind of different, so what I’d do, I’d shock their pants off and they’d be so scared of me they’d leave off.” He sniffed, and rubbed his nose. “Course, I learned my lesson. I shouldn’t of done it. Made me look like a crazy person.”

You are a crazy person, Vicki thought. Or at least you were.

“I’m sorry about your parents,” Vicki said.

“Thank you. They was pig vomit.”

“I could use a fill-up, Melvin. Unleaded.”

“They left me sitting pretty, that’s about all the good I can say for them. Want me to check under the hood?”

“No, that’s all right.”

He left the window, and Vicki took a deep breath.

Whatever they did to him in the institution, she thought, it sure hadn’t changed him much.

In the side mirror, she saw him remove the gas cap and insert the nozzle of the pump. Then he came back to her window.

“You here for a visit, or what?” he asked.

She was surprised he didn’t know. On the other hand, people probably didn’t spend a lot of time chatting with him. “I’ll be working at Dr. Gaines’s office.”

“What’ll you do there?”

“I’m a physician now.”

“A doctor?”

“Yeah.”

“No fooling. I got no use for doctors. Messing with people, you know?”

“I guess you’ve seen your share of them.”

“None as pretty as you, that’s a fact.”

“Thanks,” she muttered.

“You married?”

“Not yet.”

“Saving yourself for me?” He laughed and rubbed his nose. “Just a joke. I like to make jokes, sometimes. I used to have the orderlies and nurses cracking up. The patients didn’t laugh much, they was too doped up. They didn’t do much but drool.” He laughed at that one.

Vicki heard the gas pump click off.

“That be cash or charge?” he asked.

“Cash.”

He went away. While he was gone, Vicki lifted her handbag off the passenger seat and took out two twenties. Her hand was shaking badly, and the bills fluttered when she held them out the window to Melvin. He wandered off to get change.

Almost over, she thought. It wasn’t so bad.

Wasn’t so good, either.

When he returned, Vicki rested her wrist on the window sill to keep her hand from trembling. He counted the coins and bills into her palm.

“I’m real glad you’re back,” he said.

“Thanks.” She tucked the money into the pocket of her blouse, and saw Melvin watch her do it.

“Hope you’ll come around again anytime you need a fill-up.”

She nodded.

“Don’t you be scared of me. Okay?”

“I’m not scared of you, Melvin.”

“Sure you are. They all are. Shoot, I’d go out of business if it wasn’t for strangers passing through. Way folks around here act, you’d think I’m the one that killed Darlene. I never hurt her. All I just did was dig her up and play a little prank. But I don’t want you scared of me. Okay?”

“Fine,” she said, forcing a smile. “So long, now. I’ll see you around.”

He stepped away from the side of the truck. Vicki started the engine and pulled forward. She swung the truck onto River Road.

You could almost feel sorry for the guy, she thought.

The same way you could almost laugh at his peculiar appearance and mannerisms.

Except she didn’t find him amusing or sympathetic.

Pig vomit. That’s what he called his dead parents. You can’t feel sorry for a guy who’d say such a thing. Or for a guy who’d pull such a sick stunt with Darlene.

Sure, kids gave him a hard time. But that was no excuse. A lot of people get teased and don’t go out and dig up a dead girl and put on a show with her body.

And he asked if I was saving myself for him.

Ace came to the door in a bright yellow nightshirt with Minnie Mouse on the front, and threw her arms around Vicki. Stepping back, she said, “God, it’s been a while.”

“Three years next month since my last visit,” Vicki told her.

“It’s a shame the way you’ve aged.”

“You and the horse you rode in on.”

She grabbed up Vicki’s suitcase and led the way through the house. “How was the trip?”

“Endless.”

“We’ll have a few snorts.”

“Sounds good.”

Ace swung the suitcase onto the bed in the guestroom. Then they went into the kitchen. “Vodka and tonic?”

“Great.” Vicki sat at the table. “Where’s Jerry? Or shouldn’t I ask?”

“Gave him the boot.”

“You’re kidding. Everything was fine when we talked.”

“Well, a lot can happen in a week. He popped the big one Wednesday night. Can you imagine? The alimony and child support he’s forking out, and he wants to marry me? That’s a laugh. I’d be supporting him, the damn free-loader.”

She brought the drinks to the table, and sat down across from Vicki.

They raised their glasses.

“To living hard,” Ace said, “dying young, and having a great-looking corpse.”

“Charming,” Vicki said. But she drank to it. Then she said, “So you turned Jerry down?”

“I tossed him out on his bald ass.”

“Seems rather harsh.”

“He was no prize, anyway.”

“You’re awfully picky for a gal in the springtime of her spinsterhood.”

Ace gave her the finger.

“Can’t be many left.”

“Hon, there’s plenty of fish in the sea. I’ve got no trouble hooking them. The problem is, I can’t seem to land a keeper.”

“Jerry sounded pretty good to me.”

“This from the gal who dated Henry Peterson.”

Vicki rolled her eyes. “Don’t remind me. So what else has been going on?”

They talked and drank. It was after three a.m. when they quit.

Vicki staggered into the guest room. She sat down beside her suitcase on the bed, and flopped backward. Coins spilled out of her blouse pocket. They rested on her chest, and fell off her shoulder when she swung her legs up to remove her shoes and socks. She tugged down her shorts and panties, and kicked them away. Opening the buttons of her blouse, she noticed that her fingers were a little tingly. She would have to sit up to take the blouse off. She supposed she could sit up, but she didn’t look forward to the attempt. To postpone it, she plucked the folded bills out of her pocket and let them fall onto the bed behind her shoulder. Then, moaning, she pushed herself up. She stood, slipped her blouse off and let it fall to the floor.

She dragged her suitcase off the bed. As it fell, she swung it around, stumbling as it pulled at her. She steered the case down to the carpet and knelt in front of it. There was a knotted rope around its middle because one of the clasps was broken. She picked at the knot. It felt hard and tight. Working at it made her fingernails hurt.

Her nightgown was inside. Along with her toothbrush and toothpaste. She wanted them.

But not that much.

She crawled to the bed, pushed herself up and saw the scattered coins and bills.

The gas change.

Can’t just leave it there, she thought. It’d end up on the floor.

So she bent over the mattress, bracing herself up with one arm, and swept the money into a pile. She closed her hand around it. Stepping back, she saw that she hadn’t missed any. But one bill, caught only by a corner, fluttered loose on her way to the dresser. It brushed her thigh and swooped between her legs like a flying carpet. Her left hand made a snatch for it. And caught it.