The Forgotten (25 page)

Authors: Tamara Thorne

Tags: #Horror

BOOK: The Forgotten

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There was a dead womanâthe ghost of a dead womanânext door and Mickey Elfbones was far more concerned about the noises she made than about the voices plotting against him in his head.

Every night since they took her body away, he'd been aware of her. She was growing stronger and louder. A little while ago, he'd heard her sing one of the songs she'd crooned while alive. It was “Help!,” the classic Beatles tune. Hearing it come from a ghost, gave it new meaning that frightened him.

Alive, when Abby Abernathy was in a good mood, she was nutty-happy as often as not, and then she'd sing. Mickey hadn't minded; her voice wasn't bad, and if he didn't want to hear it, his television or stereo easily drowned her out. Most of the time, she sang folk songs, sometimes the oldest Beatles tunes, and occasionally, when she was extra nutty-happy, she belted out commercial jingles. Hearing a fifty-year-old woman sing “I wish I were an Oscar Meyer wiener” was very disturbing.

Hearing a dead woman sing anything was incredibly worse.

Although he couldn't see her from his apartment, he could hear her often, not just when she sang. The television would be turned on, channels changed, turned off again, and sometimes she banged on the wall separating them. He wasn't sure, but he suspected it was drumming, a part of the nutty-happy side of her. He hated it.

“Go away,” he muttered. “Go to your grave.”

She banged louder and began singing the wiener song, as if she'd heard his thoughts. Maybe she had.
Why not?

Mickey curled up on his sofa, which was against the wall farthest from her apartment, and tried to get to sleep. Sometime after three in the morning, she finally stopped making noise, and Mickey wondered if maybe he should tell the shrink about it, or better, talk to the young cop who'd seen the ghost, too. It couldn't hurt. The cop was nice. He'd never met a nice cop before.

Lara Sweethome was having ghostly problems of her own, but at least she could sleep in her own bed, alone, as long as the thick ribbon of salt was unbroken. She had listened intently to the David Masters interview, wishing the entire time that she'd taped it for Dr. Banning. The doctor would respond well to Mr. Masters, she thought, and maybe he'd better understand what she was going through.

While he had briefly called her back, he hadn't had time to come over and experience her mother for himself. He had apologized and told her he would as soon as he could. He made it sound like he never had a minute to himself, and maybe that was true since he didn't have the part-time partner anymore. No matter, she decided. She had an appointment Monday or Tuesdayâshe needed to double-checkâand would try to talk about her ghost the way David Masters had.

Her mother was walking the upstairs hallway and stopped at her locked bedroom door each time she came to it to scratch on the door with her toes. Lara silently cursed herself for not putting salt outside the door as well. That would have kept her from touching the door.

Tomorrow, Lara promised herself, she would have a day to herself and drive her little Toyota down to Red Cay to meet David Masters and have him sign a copy of his new book for her. It would be an adventure; she hadn't left the confines of Caledonia for well over a year. Thinking about doing so frightened her a little, but it would be well worth it, especially if she could talk David Masters into visiting her home and maybe exorcising her mother. If anyone could do it, he could.

Daniel Hatch's dick wouldn't stop talking about Mother and it was driving him to distraction. Dick wanted to “get rid of her,” and Daniel figured that was polite penis language for murder.

Not that he blamed Dick, whose name he'd finally accepted because it was easier now that they were having so many conversations. Dick was a relentless talker, but he was also rather cruel and selfish. He didn't think much about other people's feelings, not even giving a flying fart about Daniel's well-being.

But then, what else could you expect from a penis?

Daniel and Dick were in bed at Mother's house and it was well past midnight. All Daniel wanted was to go to sleep, but Dick wasn't having any of it. He was incensed because Mother had dominated their time every night since they found poor old Mrs. Lavia with her eyes pecked out. Mother wanted Daniel with her from the time he got home from work until bedtime, and every night she tried to talk him into staying at her house in his old room instead of going home. She claimed she was afraid to be left alone. Dick had insisted he leave and Daniel acquiesced to him until tonight, when Mother seemed to be truly frightened.

It's all an act,
Dick said.
She's acting afraid to get you to stay with her. She wants you, Daniel, you know that. She's always wanted you. She wants me too, the sick old broad. We have to do something about her.

“Shhhh. Go to sleep.”

How could you stay here? How could you lower yourself to sleep in this old twin bed right next to her room? You know what she used to do, don't you?

“Nothing,” he muttered.

You know better. She'd listen to see if you were whacking me off, and then she'd barge in here to catch you in the act.

“She just happened to come in a couple of times. You have to admit, we did it a lot.”

It's only natural, Daniel. Tell you what, you stroke me now, and she'll hear you and come in. It turns her on. What she really wants is for you to stick me in her, but you'd never do that, would you? It would kill me to be a plunger stuck in that stinking old cesspool.

“Shut up, Dick. You're twisted.”

(Laughter.) Let's hope not, that would ruin all my plans in the future. We're going on a fucking holiday, Daniel, as soon as Mother kicks off. We'll do every babe on Catalina Island, you and me.

“Grow up,” he muttered. “Besides, we can go to Catalina even if she's alive.”

But think of the hassle. She'll want to go too and when you come back, she'll never stop going on about how you didn't take her.

“Look, I'll just tell her I'm going to a convention. There's one coming up in Sacramento. We'll go to Catalina and say we're at the state capital. She'll never know. We'll call her from my cell phone so she can't figure anything out.”

Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. How can you put up with having to call your mommy every night, no matter where you go? You have to stop aiding her. Remember your shrink telling you she's a co-dependent type? You are too, buddy boy, but you need to be co-dependent on me, not your mommy.

“I'm not co-dependent. Dr. Banning said she was. He didn't say I was.”

He was being polite. He assumed you'd figure it out on your own, buddy boy. Now, why don't you give us a little stroke?

“No! Not here. She's probably listening!”

(Laughter, more laughter.) See? You just admitted to what I told you about her. She listens. Now here's what we're going to do. You always hated that old swordfish mounted up there on the wall. Look at it.

Dick was right. It was three feet long, counting the sword-beak, and old and creepy, a gift given to him by his uncle Horace, when Daniel was only in first grade. Dick began to talk again. Finally, Daniel nodded and took the fish down. It didn't take long to remove the fish from the wooden plaque that was holding it.

For a couple of moments, he sparred with his shadow, then he took the fish and climbed back into bed.

Set it down. Yeah, let the cover fall over it. Now, let me loose and wet me down.

Silently, Daniel did as he was told. In a few moments, he was breathing hard and stroking harder. His breath came in withering sighs. He forgot about Mother until she barreled into the room, opening the door without bothering to knock.

“Daniel Boone Hatch, just what do you think you're doing?” she demanded. “Are you abusing yourself? In
my
house? Answer me!”

Say yes.

“Yes.”

“Put it away!”

No.

“No.”

“Do as I say, young man.”

Let me go, but don't put me away. I want to watch.

Daniel let Dick flop into the shadows as Mother approached. “Show me your hands, Daniel. Let me see what's on them.”

“No.”

Do it. Get her closer, then grab the fish Daniel. Run her through.

“I can't.”

“You can't what?” demanded Mother, now standing over him. “Show me your hands.”

Do it! Do it now!

“I can't kill her.”

“Whaâwhat?” squawked Mother. “Kill me? Who do you think you're talking to young man! I think it's time for a high colonic. Your body's obviously poisoned. Get out of bed and march to the bathroom right now!”

Are you really going to let her run cold water up your rectum until you faint from the cramps when she makes you hold it for an hour? Do you get off on that?

“No!”

Then pick up that fish and run her through.

Daniel's hands moved fast. Not letting himself think, he grabbed the fish and rammed the sword into her gut. It made a horrible squishing sound and before he even withdrew it, Daniel could smell the stink of guts and shit. His mother stared at him in disbelief. She looked at her stomach, at the spreading blood, then back at him again.

“You're in big trouble, young man!” she intoned, then fell across him, 225 pounds of maternal lard.

Get her off me! I'm suffocating!

Daniel slid out from under her, thinking he shouldn't have let dick talk him into this because he was as bad a nag as she was, but she could cook.

Forget food. You and I can play all we want. I'll make sure you have women to fuck all the time. You'll love it. Now, you have plenty of dark left. Go out to the workshed and get the shovel. You can bury her in that spot you have all primed for planting that weeping willow. She'll be great fertilizer, and she'll never nag you again. When the tree is bigger, you can carve your initials on the trunk and it'll be just like carving your initials on her face.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Daniel dressed in old clothes, blue jeans and a black T-shirt. “For a penis, you sure have anger management problems.”

Forget the shrink shit, buddy boy, it's just you and me and a world of sweet tail to fuck now.

Right before dawn, Daniel finished tamping down the earth that covered Mother. “We have to wait a couple of days for the earth to settle before we put the tree in, Dick.”

That's fine and dandy. Now, let's go in and have a shower. Bring the lotion because I need a rub down.

“Now?”

Can you think of a better time for a celebration?

“Yes. I'm not interested in jacking you right now. I just buried my mother, thanks to you.”

I know, I know, but jacking's the thing we're going to do. I have a mind of my own and I've led you around by the short hairs since you were thirteen years old, remember? You just let me do the thinking for you and we'll be fine and dandy!

“When David Masters compared a ghost with years-old scent on a handkerchief in an attic trunk, he had me,” Will told Maggie between bites of cannelloni. He grinned. “It reminded me of what you said, only the ghost of aging perfume on a hanky sounded much nicer than your ghost of old cat crap in a warm room.

“Am I going to have to poke you with my fork?”

“Nope. I'm done.”

Maggie smiled as she pushed her empty plate back. “That was wonderful. I'm so full I could pop.”

“You really put it away. I don't know how you ate all that.” Will put his silverware across his mostly empty plate. “If I ate all those different pasta dishes, I'd sleep for a week.”

“Hey, watch it. If this is a date, you can't make remarks about how much I can shovel down.”

“And still keep your girlish figure.”

“Well, okay. In that case, you can say what you want. ”

“Coffee? Dessert?”

She glanced at her watch. “It's getting late. Do you still want to go to visit St. Martin's before we go down to Red Cay to meet your new favorite author?”

“He's not my favorite author. He simply has expertise in an area that currently has an impact on my own interests.”

“Gee, do you think you could say that any more stiltedly?”

“I could try.” He motioned for the check and a waiter appeared almost instantly. Will handed him a credit card without looking at the bill. “We're in a hurry,” he said. The waiter nodded and glided off.

“This is a beautiful old place,” Maggie said. “Have you ever looked around?”

“Not really. It was closed so much of the time when we were young. You've been here?”

“A few times. For meals. The indoor pool is amazing.”

“How about the theme rooms? Ever see one of those?”

“No.” She eyed him. “Have you?”

“No. They probably have a list of them at the front desk to pick from. Kevin and Gabe like the Caveman room.”

“Prehistoric Paradise,” Maggie corrected. She added dryly, “I've read the list.”

“What else do they have?”

“Arabian Nights. King Arthur's room. An Elvis room. A circus room, I think.”

“Anything kinky?”

“Well, I don't know about you, but I think a circus room might be kinky.”

“Does it have a trapeze?” Will felt butterflies try to dance despite the cannelloni, minestrone, and salad they were swimming in.

She looked him straight in the eye, so hard and fast that he felt like he hadn't a stitch on. “I don't know, Will. We could come back sometime and ask.”

“Oâokay.” He poured water down his suddenly dry throat.

She wasn't done with him yet. “They have a dungeon room. More than one, I think.”

“How do you know that?”

“Kevin told me. The dungeons are very popular.”

“Do they have trapezes?”

“You like those, huh? What if they do? What can you do while you're hanging by your knees?” She finished her water in one gulp, her eyes never leaving his.

“I can probably do all sorts of things while hanging by my knees if the trapeze is in the right spot.”

The waiter came back with the receipt, which was either a relief or a disappointment. Will looked it over, signed off, and put his card away.

“Shall we?” Maggie started to rise.

“Let's sit here for just a minute or two and talk about baseball scores or something.”

She cocked her head, then understanding lit up her face. “You have aâ”

“
Shhhh.
Baseball scores.”