The Skin Show

by Kristopher Rufty

  And there’s where we’ll stop on the way back.

  Not the most romantic place, but it had a bed, and that was all either of them would want. He’d already convinced himself they wouldn’t find The Skin Show, so after a little while longer they’d be turning back.

  Ten minutes later they were bordered by open fields again. Up ahead on the side of the road, Andy could just make out the blurry shape of a produce stand.

  “Look up there,” he said. “Civilization.”

  Karen strained her eyes. “Oh yeah, look at that. There’s actually real people there.”

  Andy eased his foot off the gas when he noticed the old couple. A man and woman sat in wooden chairs in front of crates stocked with tomatoes, cucumbers, watermelon, and cantaloupe. They also had supplies of oranges, apples, kiwi, and pears.

  “Let’s ask them if they’ve ever heard of The Skin Show,” Karen said.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean—they don’t look like the kind of people to hang out in a place with that name.”

  Karen shrugged. “Maybe they can point us in the right direction.”

  Andy doubted if they could, but agreed that asking the old people couldn’t hurt. The woman from the gas station’s warning swirled into his mind, but he ignored it as he slowed the car down. He drove past the stand and parked beside an old beater pickup truck. Its tailgate was down, empty crates sitting on top.

  He followed Karen out of the car, over to where the old couple sat.

  Both were probably in their sixties, heavy in the torso area, with graying hair. The man had on spectacles that had slipped down the bridge of his nose. He’d dressed himself in a pair of overalls and a long-sleeved flannel shirt underneath. The woman, whom Andy believed to be the man’s wife, wore a heavy sun dress. Her massive breasts pushed against the front, threatening to bust through the cloth. Grayish, sand-colored hair was pulled behind her head and held there with a rag of some kind. A lovely face of smooth skin showed that she had once been a very pretty woman. The man stood as they approached. “Hello there, young people. Glad you stopped.”

  Karen held out her hand. “Me, too! I’m Karen, and this is Andy.”

  The husband shook Karen’s hand, then turned to Andy and did the same. His hand felt rough, and the grip was strong.

  The wife stood as well. “Nice to meet you both. You are such a lovely pair. I’m Bonnie and this is my husband, Henry.”

  Karen and Andy shook her hand next.

  “Interested in any fruit today?” asked Bonnie. “How about some veggies?”

  “I wouldn’t mind some of those pears,” said Karen. “How much?”

  “How many do you want?”

  “Three sounds good.”

  “A dollar should cover it,” said Henry.

  “Really?” said Karen, surprise in her voice. “What a steal!”

  “You’ve got a look about you,” said Bonnie. “We like it. So, we don’t mind cutting you a break.”

  Karen reached for the pocket book by her side that wasn’t there. “Shit.” She covered her mouth, her eyes wide and embarrassed. “Whoops.” Her voice was muffled behind her hand. Lowering it, she said, “I left my purse in the car.”

  “I got it,” said Andy. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet, then fished through the small amount of bills. He had two singles, and removed one of them. Then he gave it to Karen.

  “Thanks. I’ll pay you back in the car.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Just share one of those pears and we’ll call it even.”

  Karen nodded. “Deal.”

  “Good man,” said Henry, admiringly, as he took the dollar from Karen.

  Bonnie stepped over to the stand, carefully selected three pears, and dropped them in a plastic bag. She walked back, handing the bag to Karen. “Thank you.”

  Karen waved a hand. “If these taste half as good as they look, I should be thanking you.”

  “Isn’t that sweet?” said Bonnie.

  “Very,” agreed Henry.

  Andy wondered if she was waiting on him to ask about The Skin Show or was working her way up to it. When he saw Karen take in a breath, he knew it was the latter. There was a change in her demeanor, as if she felt bad for having to ask them.

  “While we’re standing here,” said Karen, “maybe you can point us in the right direction.”

  “Sure,” said Henry. “Gotten turned around?”

  “A little,” said Karen. “We’re trying to find a place called The Skin Show.” She grimaced as if smelling something awful. “Believe me, we’re not looking for it because we want to hang out. Andy’s brother might be there and we just want to get him home. But, we’re not having any luck locating this place. I’m starting to think it doesn’t even…” Karen stopped talking when she noticed Henry’s facial expression.

  His smile had turned to a strained curve that looked uncomfortable. “Skin…Show?” He spoke through gritted teeth. “You’re heading out there?”

  Bonnie lowered her head, shaking it as if ashamed. “Damn.”

  Karen glanced at Andy, her face twisting into a confused mask. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

  Henry dropped the smile completely, sighing. “I’m afraid you did. If you must know, yes, you’re heading in the right direction. But, just know that there’s nothing there to see. Nothing you should see.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Karen. She stepped back, closer to Andy.

  Henry stepped forward, closing the gap Karen had just made. Bonnie followed. “God will judge the outsiders. Expel the wicked person from among you!” His voice had changed, becoming breathy, more southern than it had been before.

  Like a tent preacher…

  “Cast out the wicked ones! Cast out you!”

  “Cast them out, Henry!” screeched Bonnie. “Cast them out!”

  “The Skin Show is dwelling afflicted with demon sin; the evil one has placed his hand on top of them. Contaminating their souls! You walk with them?” He came closer. “Do you walk with the contaminated? The forsaken?”

  Andy reached out to Karen. “Let’s go.”

  Karen was shaking her head at Henry. “No. I’m not. We have to find…”

  “It is evil that you seek, and it is evil that you will find! Cursed me! I have been fooled again, blinded by false benevolence!” He stuffed his hand into the chest pocket of his coveralls and brandished a large pocket knife. With the flick of a wrist, the blade appeared.

  Karen jumped back.

  Like serving at volleyball, Henry swung upward and punched the blade into his right eye to the hilt.

  “Holy shit!” cried Andy. He couldn’t process what he’d just seen. No way did Henry just stab himself in the eye. That couldn’t have just happened.

  But it had. There was no denying Henry as he staggered, the knife poking out of his eye. Blood spurted from the wound, cascading down his face in dark torrents. Looking up, he pleaded for forgiveness of his moment of weakness. “Take my eyes from me! If I can’t truly see, then I should not see at all!”

  Andy gripped Karen’s arm, but halted when he saw Bonnie appear from behind Henry, raising a scythe above her head. The sun glinted off its sharp, curved blade.

  Karen saw it and screamed even louder.

  Andy yanked her to him. “Come on!”

  They turned away from the old couple, and ran. Karen glanced behind them and shrieked. Andy didn’t need to look to know they were being chased; he could hear the heavy paddings of feet in the gravel at their heels.

  “Thy wicked shall meet thy wrath!” shouted Henry from behind.

  Andy ran around the front of his car, gazing over the roof to where he’d expected to find Henry and Bonnie just inches from them.

  They weren’t there. It looked as if no one had been pursuing them at all.

  “Come on, Andy!” he heard Karen shout. His door opened from the inside. “Let’s get out of here!’

  Andy stared at the roadside stand a
moment longer, then allowed himself to get in the car. He shut the door, pushing the lock button. As he put the key in the ignition, Henry crashed down on the hood of the car with a loud bang. His arms, outstretched, draped the windshield.

  Andy and Karen both screamed.

  Henry wrapped his fingers around the knife’s ivory-white handle, and yanked it out. Blood volleyed in thick spouts across the windshield from the cavity where an eye had once been. Face squished against the glass, blood smearing, Henry continued shouting at them. “Wicked! I see it now! You are already forsaken! You will join the wicked! Then you will diiiiieeee!”

  “Get the hell off my car!” cried Andy.

  “I see clearly now, my Lord! I see clearly!”

  “Andy!” shouted Karen. “Look!” She pointed out her window.

  Outside the window, he could see Bonnie stalking alongside the car, the scythe’s tip dangling in view. He pictured her using it to smash through the glass. He could feel the blade puncturing him.

  Henry slapped the windshield, pounding the glass. The car pugnaciously shook, rocking Andy in his seat. Outside was chaos, inside was just as bad from Karen’s frenzied shrieks. It felt as if his head would burst from the sharp pierces of her cries.

  Finally, he willed himself to crank the car. The sudden roar of the engine caused Bonnie to jump back, alarmed. Realizing what it was, anger showed on her once peaceful face. She charged the car, swinging the weapon, massive breasts rocking from side to side.

  Andy threw the gear in reverse and stomped the gas. Bonnie missed the car, landing on the ground and rolling. She sat up with a wide streak of dirt on her chest. The reversed momentum yanked Henry from the car, the awful thump of him landing resonated from outside. Andy didn’t take the time to see if he was all right. He slammed the gear into first and took off.

  Karen continued squealing. A dinging resounded through the car, announcing they hadn’t buckled up. Her screams began to dispel. She looked around as if she’d forgotten where she was and had started to remember. As she reached for the seatbelt, she noticed the bag of pears clutched in her hand. That brought about another fit as she pushed the button on the door panel to lower the window. Once it was down far enough, she chucked the bag out of the car, and raised the window back in place.

  In the rearview mirror, Andy watched the bag bounce along the road behind them, spilling pears. He tugged down the safety strap, buckling it in place. The annoying ding ceased. “Karen?”

  She continued to squeal, bouncing in her seat. “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod…”

  “Karen!” She stopped long enough to look at him, then groaned like someone who’d heard awful news. “All right, this has gotten out of hand. We’re going back to Brickston. Enough of this.”

  Karen shook her head violently side to side. “No! I don’t want to go past that fruit stand again! I can’t! What if they’re still out there?”

  “I don’t want to either, so we’ll just find a way around it. But, enough is enough. After that, I can’t handle anything else!”

  “Me neither.” Karen sank in her seat. She put a finger in her mouth and began to gnaw at the tip. Her eyes were wide and frightened. He could see her trembling.

  Andy saw streaks of blood sliding down the windshield. He pulled back on the switch for the wipers. Warm soapy water drenched the windshield, foamy bubbles making it look as if it was raining. The water turned pink as it sloshed across the glass. The wipers came on, the rubber blades rubbing it all away. When it was done, there was no evidence of Henry’s blood except for coagulated dots in the corners. Now clean, it was easier to see through the glass.

  They drove for a few minutes, the only sound being the grinding of Karen’s teeth on her fingernail. As Andy lighted a cigarette, he was beginning to think they might have to turn around, and risk driving past the couple.

  He was nearly finished with the cigarette before Karen spoke.

  “What if it was just an act or something?”

  “An…act?”

  “Yeah, a joke, you know…an illusion.” She attempted a smile that came across as desperate.

  Andy remembered the wet punch of the blade going into Henry’s eye, the small burst of white fluid right before the blood came. No way could that have been faked. In a movie, sure, with a special effects team, an eye appliance, fake blood, and retractable knife. Done on the spot how Henry had performed it meant only one thing: it was real.

  And even if somehow it was a joke, why would a seemingly nice old couple do it? They were fine until Karen mentioned The Skin Show.

  “Andy?”

  He looked at her, saw the pleading despair in her eyes, then faced forward once again. If he told her it was a joke, she’d force herself to believe the bullshit as well. He should probably lie to her, saying what she wanted to hear.

  He couldn’t.

  “You know what it was,” he muttered.

  Her hopeful expression dropped to a scowl. Turning away from him, her hair flapped outward in a honey-shaded swipe. She crossed her arms under her breasts. He couldn’t see her face from the curtain of hair hanging by her head.

  Angry at himself, Andy wondered why he couldn’t have let her have it her way. Although he knew he was only lying to her to spare her feelings, couldn’t he have just done it? Was he really so mulish?

  About to apologize to Karen, she leaned forward, the harness pulling taut against her breasts.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Stop the car.”

  “What?”

  “Stop!”

  Andy faced forward and saw the slim figure up ahead. She was a black profile against the sun, standing with a foot on each lane, the yellow line running between her legs. She was holding a cardboard sheet in front of her.

  “Stop the goddamn car!”

  Finally, using both feet, Andy stomped the brake. The car swerved, the back end veering out to the left. Karen fell against her safety harness. It snatched her back, throwing her against the door. Andy’s weight shifted. He felt his body being pulled to his own door. He was afraid either the car would start flipping or he’d plow over the woman ahead of them.

  The car continued to spin, sailing past the woman. She didn’t move, didn’t flinch. She only stood there, the sign in front of her. When the car came to a halt, they were looking at the woman’s backside. They were close enough that Andy could see she had on a denim-colored top that left the small of her back visible between the tips that slimmed down to points. They brushed the waistband of her short corduroy skirt, the arcs of her buttocks just peeking out from the thin khaki edgings.

  Andy could hardly swallow. It felt like a wool sock was lodged in his throat. His body quaked, shuddering all the way through. His legs were tight, knees locked in place. Wheezing, he turned to check on Karen. She had both arms shielding her face, crossing at the wrists. Her hair was a mess, sprigs stirring slightly from the pants of her breaths as it covered her face.

  “You…okay?” His voice sounded garbled, like speaking through a funnel full of pebbles.

  “What…the…hell…?” Karen threw her arms down. Her flustered face showed straight anger. The flushing in her cheeks made them almost seem bruised, and Andy wondered for a moment if she’d somehow been hit while the car was spinning. “What the hell is she doing just standing in the middle of the road!?”

  Andy put the car in park. Birds continued to chirp in the distance. Summer winds blew, swaying the weeds in a lazy synchronized dance. Tranquility was all around them, but it felt unnatural after what had just happened.

  The woman lowered her arms. The sign swung by her right thigh. Sweat glazed her dark skin. Andy gaped as she turned around. Her hair was the color of sand, tightly crimped curls that came partway down her back. She didn’t look to be wearing any makeup, but the skin of her face was of different hues. Her plump lips curved slightly, showing a sort of acknowledging grin.

  She raised the sign for Andy to read. Written in black marker across the front w
as not one of the more common requests he expected: a destination such as Green Bay or bust. Nor did it have a panhandler’s sympathetic plea for help.

  The message was simple, and it stippled Andy’s skin in gooseflesh.

  The Skin Show.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Am I seeing this right?” Karen asked.

  “Afraid so.”

  The woman hadn’t budged from her spot. Andy checked the rearview and saw no cars approaching from the back. They were alone on this stretch of scenic highway with a stranger and a sign that either predicted the future or was the rarest of coincidences.

  “What are you going to do?”

  Andy almost threw the car in reverse, putting as much distance between them and this woman that he could. He knew he wouldn’t, however, and only just slowly shook his head to answer Karen.

  “Do you think we just happened to come across her by chance?” Karen asked.

  “If I don’t believe that, what’s the other option?” He remembered the woman on the phone, and what she’d said. “Think she was sent here to meet us?”

  “I don’t know.” Karen reached for the button on the door paneling.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I have no clue.” She pushed the button. The window whirled down. Unlatching her seatbelt, Karen leaned out the window. “Hey.”

  The woman smiled. She looked no older than twenty-one, a youthful face, flawless and beautiful. Her teeth were radiantly white, bouncing the sunlight off their clean surfaces. “Well, howdy!”

  “Hope we didn’t scare you too bad.”

  “You talkin’ bout the little mishap? Ain’t nuthin to worry me. I was the dummy standin’ in the road.”

  “So, you’re all right?”

  “I am now. You the first car I seen all day. Hitched a ride with a trucker early yesterdee, and the bastard tried to get touchy-feely with me, if you catch my meaning.”

  “I believe I do. What happened after that?”

  “I punched him in the balls, then he threw me out of the truck. I didn’t think it’d take me so damn long to find another ride.”

  Andy watched the woman talk to Karen through the windshield. Her voice was slightly muffled, but he could hear her clearly. Her accent reminded him of the actress Andy McDowell—southern, with a soft, pretty drawl. It was almost as if she wanted to sound dumber than she actually was. He wasn’t sure why he thought that, but it seemed like a true fit.