The Haunter of the Threshold (22 page)

“Oh, ee-yuh. Be right back,” Horace said and disappeared into his work room.

“That man is
huge,
” Sonia whispered. “You wouldn’t think a guy that big would be into
pottery.
” She leaned closer. “And I can see why you’re so attracted to him. The big ones aren’t my type at all, but
you?
” Then came another cunning smile.

“Stop it!” Hazel whispered back.

“And just remember. The more time we waste here, the less we’ll have to make love before Frank comes back.”

The fusion of anticipation and confoundment only dizzied Hazel more. She almost screamed when Sonia lifted out one of her breasts and said behind her grin, “Suck this for me, will you, please?”

Hazel’s hands blurred to re-cover her friend. “Why are you
doing
this to me?” came her propulsive whisper. “You’ve never been like this!”

“It took last night to make me realize how much I’ve taken you for granted.” Again, that dead-serious gaze. “I feel bad about that.”

“Stop! Not here...”

The trailer floor actually bobbed a little when Horace rejoined them. “Heer it ‘tis.” He passed the clay box to Sonia.

“That’s amazing,” Sonia commented, examining its asymmetrical shape. “It
is
just like the metal one at the cabin.”

“But all those little hieroglyph thingies are different, aren’t they?” Hazel bid.

“Yes. It looks like they’re more of them.” She looked to Horace, who stood huge, arms crossed. “This is fascinating work, Horace. And do I understand correctly that Henry Wilmarth asked you to make it?”

“Ee-yuh, ‘tis true.” He glanced to Hazel as well. “And I just took five more out the kiln. ‘Tis why I wurn’t at Mr. Pickman’s shop today. I ‘spect he’s ruther displeased.”

“Five more?” Hazel inquired. “But yesterday you said Henry changed his mind and didn’t order any more.”

Horace nodded. “It were someone else. Strangest thing, tew. Found a letter in my mailbox this mornin’ ordering thirty-two more boxes, which was what Henry asked for at fust but then decided aginst.”

“Who...was it?”

Horace shrugged. “Durn’t know, letter weren’t signed, just said he represented Henry’s gemolergy friends and they wanted more boxes. Thought it were a mite foolish, a joke mebbe, until I opened another envelope inside that had five thousand bucks in it. Cash. Curn’t say no to five thousand bucks. Lord, I en’t never had that much money in my hand at once...ever.”

Hazel and Sonia looked at each other. “How peculiar,” Sonia said. And Hazel, “But they just left the letter? No one knocked on the door to talk to you?”

“New. Just left the letter’n cash in my box and left. No name on the letter or nuthin’.”

“And this person said that ‘Henry’s friends’ want the boxes?” Sonia asked for clarification.

“Um-hmm.”

“A gemology club,” Hazel recalled from their conversation last night. “Isn’t that what you said?”

“Ee-yuh.”

“How curious.” Sonia pinched her chin. “Frank never said anything about Henry having an interest in gems.”

“Yeah, but he and Frank are
geometry
professors, Sonia,” Hazel pointed out. “Cut gemstones are covered with facets comprised of
geometric
configurations, just like the
gemstone
Henry referred to as the ‘Shining Trapezohedron.’” Hazel’ eyes again beseeched Horace. “And Henry said the box is to store a
gemstone,
right?”

“A crystal, he said.” Horace took the box back from Sonia. “I curn’t make much sense out’a any of it. Figure it’s just the man’s hobby, wants special display boxes for crystals. I durn’t ask questions ‘baout stuff I durn’t know. I just dew the work.”

“This is quite a mystery,” Sonia said.

Yeah,
Hazel thought.
It couldn’t have been FRANK who left the
letter. Right now he’s up on the mountain in some ridiculous cottage.
Hazel’s thoughts stalled.
Or is he?

Sonia rose, a bit awkwardly, and handed her purse to Hazel. “Horace, do you mind if I use your bathroom?”

“Please dew.” Horace led her to the cramped hall. “Sorry it’s so small in theer.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

The narrow door clicked.
At least it beats the outhouse,
Hazel mused.
Or going in the backyard.
“At the very least, congratulations on your new work order.”

“Thanks much. ‘Tis shuhly a lot of money someone left in my mailbox. Would ya like to see the others?”

Hazel followed him into his small workroom. The air was warmer here, from the kiln. Sitting on a tray were five more freshly fired boxes. Horace showed her his technique, holding up a plastic version of the box—an “inside-out mold,” he called it and explained how he would first oil the plastic box, then apply clay around it, after which he pressed pre-made plastic template cards on each side and the lid; this pressed in the sequences of glyphs directly into the clay’s surface. The inside-out mold was then slipped out, and the clay shell fired in the kiln. “Pretty labor intensive,” Hazel remarked.

“New, new, just the mold and templates. Once I got them right, the rest is a snap. Kind’a fun, actually.”

Hazel looked more closely at the five new boxes and was astounded by how precise they each were. Several times, though, her eyes flicked to Horace’s crotch—his
packed
crotch—and she found that, now, she couldn’t have been any
less
interested in his sexual endowment. Knowing that she’d soon be making love to Sonia seemed to sweep her mind clean of all its dirt, of all those fetishes and paraphilias and kinks and perversions.
Sonia is my cure...
The idea of a sexual romp with this mountain of muscle named Horace, or with any man for that matter, seemed as boring as playing solitaire.

Just then she heard a muffled cell phone ringing, not hers but Sonia’s. She pulled it out of her friend’s purse, saw that it was Frank calling, then said, “Excuse me a minute, Horace.”

“Shuhly.”

“Hi, Frank, it’s Hazel,” she answered, stepping back into the living room. “Sonia’s in the bathroom—”

“Thank God,” came Frank’s odd reply.

Hazel frowned. “What time tonight will you be back?”

“Mmm. That’s the catch. I’ve found more of Henry’s work up here—it’s spellbinding, so—”

“Frank,” she deliberated. “Answer the question. What time
tonight
will you be back?”

A static pause. “It won’t be tonight, Hazel. Maybe tomorrow afternoon but I can’t even guarantee that. There’s just so much sheer
data
up here.”

“That’s shitty, Frank!” she almost yelled. “Sonia’s pissed off enough as it is. You don’t get your ass back to the cabin tonight, you might not have a fiancé anymore.”

“Listen, listen,” he sounded desperate yet enthralled. “Make her understand. This is important to me—”

“It sounds like a crock of shit! She thinks you’ve got another woman up there with you!”

“For God’s sake, that’s ridiculous.” Did he sound out of breath as well? “Sonia can fly off-the-handle sometimes, so I need you to do me a big favor—”

Hazel’s teeth ground. “Don’t make me be the messenger, Frank!”

“Just tell her, please. If I get on the phone with her, she’ll go off the deep end. So, please, Hazel just tell her that—”

“Frank! Be a man and talk to her yourself. She’s in the bathroom, just wait a second and I’ll give her the phone.”

“No, no, it’s very important. I’ve been reading all of Henry’s notes he stashed up here at the cottage. I think-I think he’s wrong. I think the theory can actually work.”

“I don’t give a
fuck
about the theory, Frank,” Hazel snapped, then noticed Horace raise a brow in the other room. She scurried toward the small bathroom. “I’m passing the phone to Sonia in the bathroom right now.
You
tell her—”

“No. Tell her for me. Tell her my cell phone died while we were talking.”

“No! And don’t you
dare
hang up, you selfish, inconsiderate prick.”

“You’re a peach, Hazel. I’ll make it up to you. If you could see this work up here, you’d understand—”

“Don’t you
dare—
”

Frank hung up before Hazel could get to the bathroom. She slumped in the hall, then returned to the living room.
She’s gonna
shit a brick when she hears about this...

Sonia came out a minute later. Hazel dreaded what must come next. “Thanks for showing us the boxes, Horace. We’ve got to go now.”

“Pleasure havin’ yew. Stop by any time.”

Hazel scribbled her cell number and passed it to him. “Give me a call in a few days. We’d love to take you out to dinner or something.”

“Why, thanks much, I will.”

Back outside, Hazel opened the car door for Sonia, who looked shivery in repressed excitement. “All right, I’ve seen the box, so let’s
go,
” and then Sonia couldn’t have looked more wanton over to Hazel.

Hazel stalled at the driver’s door.
This is NOT going to be easy.

“Listen, Sonia...”

“What?”

“Um...”

All those lascivious edges to Sonia’s expression dulled instantly. She
knew
something was askew. “What is it, Hazel? I’m not liking the vibes right now.”

Hazel gulped. “When you were in the bathroom...Frank called. And I answered.”

“Oh, good. What time did he say he’d be at Henry’s cabin?”

Hazel’s flipflops shuffled in the grass. All the way down the driveway, though, there was only mud from last night’s rain. “He’s still at the cottage. He’s...not coming back tonight. Tomorrow afternoon maybe.”

Sonia’s eyes suddenly possessed a glare that could cut stone. She took out her cellphone, dialed Frank’s number, then waited. Obviously Frank’s voice mail came on, not Frank himself.

“Frank, it’s Sonia. What are you pulling? I will
not
be treated like this. What? You’re
avoiding
me? I’m too much of a pain in the ass to
talk
to? Well hear this: if you don’t call me back right away, I might just stick this engagement ring right up your ass.” Tears began to dot her cheeks. “You’re the one who wanted to be a father and right now my stomach’s sticking out like a pickle barrel from
your kid.
Call me back, or you’ll be sorry.” Then she hung up.

The incident squelched Sonia’s previous horniness like a bucket of water on a campfire. Her glare cut into Hazel across the roof of the car.

“I told him to wait for you but he wouldn’t,” Hazel said. “He was afraid you’d blow a gasket. He wanted me to tell you that his cell phone was dying.”

Sonia wiped her eyes. Her silence was the most unpleasant aspect of the event.

“I was rushing to the bathroom to give you the phone, but he hung up.”

More tense moments ticked by. Wind chimes sang innocuously. Sonia remained silent, staring her ire out into the woods.

“He said he found more of Henry’s work, important stuff,” Hazel added. “It got him all jazzed up, you know, that theory, the non-Euclidian stuff. I mean, the guy
is
an academician. He gets as excited about geometric principles as we get over the themes and variations of
Moby Dick.
”

Sonia’s disjointed glare grew even sharper.
“Don’t you stick up
for him!”

“I’m not!” Hazel all but wailed. “I don’t even really like him; if I had my way, you wouldn’t even
be
with the jerk! I called him a selfish, inconsiderate prick!”

If only traceably, Sonia smiled. “You’re sweet, Hazel. And I’m sorry you’re in the middle of this. But you know me—better than anyone probably: I need to be by myself for several hours—”

No!
Hazel’s thoughts screamed.

“I’m too frazzled and, believe me, I won’t be very good company for awhile. I’m going to drive back to the cabin and just try to decompress from this, okay?”

Hazel stared. “Sonia, please—”

“I’m sorry I led you on, but that was before Frank pulled this move.” Sonia wiped her eyes, appeared to be straining not to fall apart. “Just let me be by myself for a little while.”