A Debt to be Paid

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A Debt to be Paid Page 6

by Patrick Lacey


  “It was an accident. I saw one of them.”

  “One of the bad things that only you can see?”

  For the first time since they’d left home, whether or not it was intended, Gillian heard anger in her daughter’s voice. You’re going to kill us, Mommy. You’re going to have one of your delusions and I’m going to lose an eye or a limb.

  “No,” Gillian said, shaking her head. “You’re not going to lose an eye or a limb. I’m going to protect you.”

  “Mommy, what’re you talking about?”

  Gillian closed her eyes and willed her pills to work their magic, though when they kicked in, nothing would be different. Her sickness would be at bay for twelve or so hours but she would still see and hear them and that was enough to drive her mad—even madder than she already was. She could have laughed if she wasn’t so scared.

  Meg tapped Gillian on the shoulder.

  “What is it, dear?”

  “Are you sure the bad things aren’t just part of the problem in your head?”

  The windshield became blurry and for a moment Gillian thought it had begun to rain. She lowered her face into her hands and tried to shield herself, tried to stop crying.

  It was impossible to keep her daughter from them.

  She was bringing all this on. It was her fault.

  “How would you like to talk to Daddy?” Gillian asked, sniffling and wiping away snot from her nose with the back of her hand like a child. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  Meg nodded.

  “Well then let’s go.” She released Meg, found a tissue in her pocket, and wiped her nose. She put the car in drive and turned around. At the end of the street she should have turned right, toward the highway but instead she turned left.

  She could feel her medication start to take its effect. The world didn’t seem quite as distant and dangerous as it normally did.

  The back of the billboard came into view, making her skin crawl, like there were worms beneath her clothes.

  It would be a normal billboard again of course. That’s how they worked. They played with your head, made you feel even crazier than you already felt in the first place. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

  Then she opened them.

  The shadow was in the same pose, watching her and Meg, making dark promises Gillian couldn’t decipher.

  Gillian vowed never to pull into another rest stop after this one. It was a few miles away from the billboard, though she wished it were farther. She parked the car in front of the nearest pay phone and shut the engine off.

  “Are we going to call Daddy now?” Meg asked. She no longer held her doll. It lay crumpled on the floor as if she’d grown up over the last few weeks, no need for silly things like toys anymore. Fear will do that, Gillian thought.

  “Yes we are. I’m sure he’ll be so happy to hear your voice again. He’s probably dying to know how your trip has been. When he answers, the first thing I want you to say is that you’re okay, that everything’s fine, alright?”

  Meg nodded and smiled.

  Gillian stepped outside and Meg followed her toward the booth. Inside, they closed the door behind them. The wind had picked up, blowing through small cracks in the glass and making an odd whistling sound, like the world was reminding her this was the end of the road.

  She picked the phone up from its cradle, dispensed the coins, and dialed her home with a shaky hand, hoping Brian would be there. It rang once and she thought there was still time to hang up, to grab Meg and drive on until she found a place where she felt safe from the shadows. She could find a way to stop them and she could have her old life back.

  Brian picked up on the third ring. “Hello?” His voice was raspy, too many cigarettes and glasses of whiskey, his coping mechanisms, and now of all times, he needed to cope. “Hello?” he said again.

  She thought about hanging up just as Meg tugged on her sleeve. She looked down at her daughter, at her new grown up eyes, and she handed the phone down to her. “Remember what I told you,” Gillian whispered, covering the mouthpiece.

  Meg nodded and took the phone. “Hi, Daddy. It’s Meg. I’m okay.”

  From here Gillian could make out Brian talking too fast, asking a thousand questions that would go unanswered.

  “I miss you and school and home,” Meg said.

  Gillian could have sworn she heard him crying, though it could have been a trick of the wind’s whistling. Brian never cried, not when his mother had died, not when his brother had committed suicide, and certainly not when she’d told him she wanted a divorce, two days before she’d taken Meg. But now, listening closer, leaning toward Meg, she swore she heard him sobbing.

  Gillian tapped Meg on the shoulder. “Can I talk to him now?”

  “Bye, Daddy. Talk to you soon.” She handed the phone back to Gillian reluctantly. Gillian cleared her throat, leaned on the cold glass, and put the phone to her ear. “Brian.”

  “Gillian, is that you?” He sniffled, trying to pretend he was fine.

  “No, it’s a stranger. Of course it’s me. Do you think I’d let Meg out of my sight?”

  “That’s an odd question coming from the woman who kidnapped her own daughter. Where the hell are you? You bring her back, you hear me? I swear to God if you don’t bring her back I’ll make sure you rot in a cell.”

  “Brian.”

  He kept on speaking over her, telling her how bad of a mother she was, as if the thought hadn’t yet crossed her mind. “Brian.”

  “How could you do this to us? We were a family.”

  “Brian. Shut your mouth for one goddamn second. Can you do that for me? Can you stop talking for once in your life and actually listen? Because I can hang up quite easily and though that would be cruel, I’m not above it.”

  There was a pause. She could hear him breathing heavily.

  “That’s better. Now listen to me. I’m coming home, Brian. We’re both coming home. I need you to make me a promise before I do.”

  “What kind of promise?”

  “I need you to promise there will be no police officers when I get there.”

  “The hell there won’t be.” She could sense him building to another rant.

  Meg was watching something across the way in the diner, preoccupied for at least a moment. Gillian turned away and covered her mouth. “I’m going to bring her home and then I’m going to leave. For good. I’ve made a terrible mistake. I see that now. I don’t expect you to forgive me and I sure as hell don’t expect you to understand any of it. I just want you to know that I was trying to keep her safe, Brian. As crazy as it may sound, I was trying to keep her safe.”

  “Safe from what?”

  She hesitated. “I told you. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “The only one she needs to be safe from is you.”

  She wanted to scream, to reach through the phone and strangle him and make him see what she saw each and every day, things walking around, inexplicable things that should not be there. Things she’d let in by signing her name on a dotted line. Things separate from her sickness. Her eyes began to water again but she swore she wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction. “Just be there when I get back and don’t have any cops waiting. You’ll never have to see me again if that’s what you want. I just need our girl to be safe and I can’t give her that anymore.”

  Brian started to say something else but she hung the phone gently in its cradle. “Come on, honey. Let’s get going.”

  “Mommy, why’s that man pointing at us?”

  “What man?” Gillian followed Meg’s line of sight.

  There was a man wearing a suit, stepping outside of the diner and yelling something. Inside, people leaned against the front windows and stared. Gillian moved quickly, opening the phone booth doors.

  “Call the cops,” the man said. �
�That’s them. I’m sure of it.”

  Another man, dressed in a cook’s uniform, ran back inside.

  “Miss,” the man in the suit yelled. “Miss, stop where you are.” He started walking toward them.

  She kneeled down to Meg and grabbed her shoulder. “Honey, listen very closely. This man wants to take me away from you, okay? He wants me to go away to a place for a long time because I’ve made a mistake. You don’t want that, do you?”

  Meg shook her head.

  “That’s good. Now run to the car and lock the doors. Don’t let anyone in that isn’t me. You understand?” Gillian handed her the keys and Meg ran toward the passenger seat, slamming the door behind her.

  Gillian turned back toward the man in the suit. “Sir, what’s going on here? I’m in a rush and my daughter’s not feeling well.”

  “That’s not surprising. You’re the fucking sicko that took off with that girl. You step over here and you wait until the cops come.”

  “I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding,” she said, putting her hand into her pocket. “I think you have me confused with someone else.” She grabbed the knife, held on tightly.

  “No way. I don’t forget a face like that. I don’t forget about psychos like you.”

  Remember, she thought, the blade cool against her palm. You can do this for your daughter. You can do anything for her.

  But this isn’t for her. It’s for you. The worst that could happen is they’ll bring you to a facility to get better.

  Get better? Brian will see to it that you stay in a padded room for the rest of your life.

  Just run, Gillian. You can lose them now if you run.

  Piles of slimy food on a plastic tray. The smell of piss and shit in the halls. That’s what you’re in for.

  She ground her teeth so hard she thought each molar would turn to dust. Her pills weren’t working. She could feel the world disassemble before her eyes.

  The man grabbed her, pushed her forward.

  She struggled, tried to pry his hands away. He spun her around and she saw Meg in the car, pounding her fists against the passenger window, yelling for the man to stop hurting her mother.

  Gillian pulled the knife from her pocket. She loosened her left arm from the man’s grip and wound back.

  And stopped when she saw the thing standing behind the man.

  The tall, featureless thing.

  The shadow.

  She shook her head. “No. Get away from him. Please. Whatever you are.”

  “You’re even more fucked in the head than I thought,” the man said. He started to drag her inside the diner.

  The onlookers watched, whispering to each other.

  The shadow reached forth and took the man’s neck into its hands. Long fingers wrapped around the flesh and lifted him a few feet from the ground.

  Gillian fell back against the pavement, slamming the side of her head. Everything turned white for a moment. She could feel wetness pooling in her hair. She touched the wound and her hand came back red.

  “Stop it! Just leave him alone. It’s me you want! It’s me!”

  The man struggled, unable to see the thing that was smothering him. He mouthed the words help me just as the shadow ripped into his neck. There was a loud tearing sound that made her stomach heave. Blood dripped down the front of the man’s suit jacket and pooled beneath his hovering feet. He scratched at hands that were invisible to him but the shadow didn’t budge. It kept on digging into flesh with long and jagged fingers until the man was spasming too quickly.

  After a long few moments the man’s movements died and he closed his eyes.

  The shadow dropped the body and pointed to her. She couldn’t see a mouth and she didn’t hear a voice but she had an idea of what it was saying.

  You can’t run forever.

  Gillian sped to the car. Meg unlocked the door and handed her the keys. Gillian’s hands shook too much. She fumbled with the keys as she tried to slip them into the ignition.

  Something moved in her periphery.

  The shadow was walking toward the car, still pointing. Only now the finger wasn’t aimed at Gillian. “Get down!” she said to Meg.

  She managed to slip the key into the ignition. She turned it, started the engine and put the car into reverse.

  The thing was just a few feet away now, close enough to crash a hand through the glass and rip her daughter’s throat open.

  Gillian stepped on the gas, backed out of the spot and sped off, the rest stop and the onlookers from the restaurant and the dead man and the shadow fading into the background.

  “Mommy,” Meg said. “What was that?”

  “It was a man who thought I was someone else, honey. He got in a fight with someone bigger than him and got hurt badly.”

  “No, what was the other thing? The tall thing. Was it one of the bad things from the door you opened?”

  Gillian veered the car into another lane and jerked it back over. She wanted to ask for more details, just to be certain. “You’re just tired. It was two men fighting and nothing more. Now try to get some sleep. We’re going home tonight.”

  Meg didn’t press the issue further. She looked out her window into the night.

  Gillian drove on, fast but not fast enough to get her noticed. All she had to do was get home and drop Meg off. Then she would disappear. She was a horrible mother. She’d done the worst thing you could do to your child. She’d put her in danger. She’d made her own daughter delusional, convinced she was seeing the shadows herself.

  Of course that had to be the answer.

  Because if the opposite were true, if Meg really could see them, then that would mean Gillian had passed this curse, this horrible sickness, on to her.

  And that was enough to drive anyone insane.

  Chapter Seven

  For what seemed like days, though it was just over ten hours, Meg and Brian took turns driving the night road and then the morning road, sometimes speaking and sometimes keeping quiet. Meg had never liked silence when she wasn’t alone. It made her feel as though the other person was observing, judging. But now the silence was comforting because Brian had seen the shadows too. He could not judge her for what he’d seen for himself.

  “Can I ask you a question?” she said. It was two in the morning. They were near New Hampshire now, taking two-hour shifts. Her legs felt stiff and achy as she stepped into the passenger seat and let Brian take over the wheel.

  “Sure.” He stared straight ahead, his eyes wide open, like if he blinked he’d miss something. Something horrible that would open his door and pull him out.

  “I noticed you don’t talk about your mother. You tell me stories about your dad and it seems like you two get along, but your mother…I didn’t see her at your father’s house.”

  “That’s because she’s dead.”

  She tensed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m tired and scared and running my mouth.”

  “It’s okay. She died on her way to the grocery store.”

  Meg chewed at a hangnail on her thumb, a nervous habit for a nervous subject. “Car accident?”

  “You would think so. That’s what comes to everyone’s mind. But the truth is some sick fuck mugged her when she was getting out of her car. He stabbed her three times, once in the back and twice in the neck, and took her purse. The best part is that my mother never carried cash, always had checks instead. We cancelled them the next morning. He—or she—killed my mother for nothing and the cops never found them.”

  Meg pulled on the hangnail too hard. It came loose, ripping the skin. A few drops of blood beaded and dripped into her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been calling my mother a lunatic and you’ve been living with that. I wish I’d known.”

  He put a hand on her knee. “But you didn’t know. Besides, it’s looking more and m
ore like your mother isn’t as crazy as you’d like to believe. Not after what we saw last night.”

  Her phone rang from inside her pocket. She grabbed it, nearly dropping it from her shaking hands twice, and looked at the screen. It was the Norfolk, Pennsylvania police station. “Hello?”

  “Ms. Foster, this is Officer Granger. Are you alright?”

  She almost asked him what he was talking about but then she understood. Someone must have called the cops. Her apartment door was wide open and everything she owned was in disarray.

  And there was blood in her kitchen, warning her.

  “Yes, I’m fine. I’m actually on my way to New Hampshire. Family emergency. What’s this about?”

  “We got a call an hour or so ago about a possible break-in at your building. One of our officers responded, saw that your front door had been forced open. It looks like someone trashed the place.”

  “My god.” She tried to sound surprised. She thought the fear helped with that.

  “And there’s…Ms. Foster, I’m not sure how to say this but there was blood on your refrigerator.”

  “Blood?”

  “Yes, and I’m assuming it wasn’t yours now that I’ve reached you. We checked on your neighbor downstairs. Nancy Clark?”

  Meg nodded as if he could see her. “Yes, she’s my landlord. She owns the building.”

  “Yes, well I’m afraid whoever broke into your unit also broke into hers.”

  Her heart stopped for a moment. “Is she okay?”

  “I’m afraid not. This may be a bit distressing but she was…she was murdered.”

  Meg opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. She thought of the blood, of the message, of her landlord’s lifeless body beneath her floorboards. Nancy had told Meg to turn down her music once or twice but other than that, the old woman had been a saint for the month or so they’d known each other. And now she was dead. The shadow had come for Meg but it had killed an innocent woman to prove its point.

  Pay up. You said yes.

  “Ms. Foster? I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. We’re just glad you’re okay. We’ll need you to come to the station first thing when you get back. There are some questions we’ll need answered. Are you still there? Meg?”

 

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