Night Show

by Richard Laymon

  Dani looked down the hedge separating her lawn from the street. No sign of him. She peered along the dark shrubbery to the corner of her house where it met the redwood fence.

  ‘Jack?’

  No answer.

  A cool trickle ran down her side. She rubbed it away with her sweatshirt and walked across the lawn toward the driveway. Jack’s Mustang was still parked there beside her own car.

  As she approached it, a pale blur appeared at the driver’s window. She halted, staring at it, her heart pounding hard.

  ‘Jack? Is that you?’

  The window rolled down. ‘What’s up?’

  At the sound of Jack’s voice, she sighed. ‘I thought you were by the tree.’

  ‘This is better.’

  ‘Why don’t you come in now?’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘I don’t think this is such a great idea.’

  ‘Dani, we agreed . . .’

  ‘I know, but I changed my mind.’ She pulled open the car door. The ceiling light came on, and Jack squinted in its brightness. ‘Come on, let’s go in.’

  He climbed from the car and pushed the broomstick into his back pocket. ‘Why do you want to give it up?’

  ‘I’ve thought about it a lot. It’s a bad idea, Jack. Let’s just go inside. He can take his head back, and maybe that’ll be the end of it.’

  ‘And maybe not. He needs a lesson.’

  Dani shoved the car door shut. ‘Look, if you beat him up, we could get into all kinds of legal hassles. He might sue . . .’

  ‘For Godsake, he’s the one who . . .’

  ‘It happens. It’s not worth it to me.’ She took Jack’s arm and walked him toward the house. ‘Besides, that’s just a minor thing. What really worries me is escalation. Suppose you do beat him up? It’d probably just make him mad. It’d make me mad. I’d want revenge. Wouldn’t you?’

  ‘I guess so.’

  ‘I’m afraid he might come back again to even the score. Then we’d want to get back at him, and God only knows where it might end.’

  ‘That’s a risk involved, yes.’

  ‘Well, let’s just avoid it. So far, he hasn’t done anything violent. As far as we know, he’s harmless.’

  ‘He broke into your house.’

  ‘Maybe. But he didn’t attack me. Hell, he doesn’t want to hurt me, he wants a job. That could all change if we bash him around. We might make him dangerous.’

  Jack shrugged. ‘All right. We’ll try it your way.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She squeezed his arm. They stepped around the grocery bag, and Jack pushed the front door open. Dani entered first, glimpsed the man pressed to the wall inside and jumped away with a gasp.

  A low, mad laugh hissed through the mouth-hole of the ghoul mask. It stopped with a grunt as Jack’s forearm rammed across the mask. His left fist jabbed hard into the boy’s belly.

  ‘That’s enough,’ Dani gasped. ‘That’s . . .’

  Jack punched him once more, then stepped back. The boy slumped to a squat, clutching his belly and gasping.

  Jack yanked the mask off.

  Dani stared at the agonised face, the bone-white skin and tiny eyes, the lips peeled back over yellow teeth as he struggled for air. The head lowered. An eye, crudely drawn with marking pens, seemed to gaze at her from the center of his hairless crown.

  ‘I’ll watch him,’ Jack said. ‘You want to call the cops?’

  Dani shook her head. ‘What’s your name?’ she asked.

  He looked up, glanced from Dani to Jack, to Dani again.

  ‘If you co-operate,’ she said, ‘maybe we won’t call the police. Now, what’s your name?’

  ‘Anthony.’

  ‘Anthony what?’

  ‘Johnson.’

  ‘Let’s see your driver’s license.’

  He started to get up, but Jack shoved him down by the shoulder. Reaching into a rear pocket of his black pants, he took out a wallet. He flipped it open and held it out.

  Dani took it. ‘You’re from New York.’

  He nodded.

  ‘How long have you been out here?’

  ‘Five weeks.’

  ‘He’s just eighteen,’ she told Jack.

  ‘Good. Old enough to be tried as an adult.’

  ‘Let’s go in the living room and sit down.’

  ‘Dani . . .’

  ‘We might as well be comfortable. It may take a while.’

  ‘What?’ Jack asked.

  ‘We’re going to defuse the situation.’

  Anthony stared at Dani as if she were an intriguing animal. He got to his feet, and she gave his billfold back.

  She led the way into the living room. Anthony followed, with Jack close behind him. ‘You’ve been in here before,’ she said.

  ‘I didn’t take anything.’

  She nodded towards an easy chair. Anthony sat down.

  ‘When and how did you get in?’

  ‘This morning. You were in the pool, and left the back door open.’ He seemed quite pleased with himself.

  ‘The bedroom door?’

  He nodded.

  He must’ve passed within yards of her. While she swam, thinking she was alone, thinking she was safe even as he spied on her and sneaked into her house.

  ‘Why did you do it?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Wipe that smirk off your face.’

  He wiped it off with his hand.

  ‘Why?’ Dani asked.

  ‘I’ve got my reasons.’

  Jack, tight with anger, looked at Dani as if asking permission to stomp the young man.

  ‘Why don’t you get us some drinks?’ she asked. ‘Anthony, would you like a beer?’

  His head bobbed.

  Jack’s head tipped sideways and he regarded Dani with amazement.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘I’m not crazy.’

  ‘It’s your party.’ He made a smile at Anthony. ‘Would you prefer Coors, Bud, or Dos Equis?’

  ‘Coors.’

  He glanced at Dani, rolled his eyes upward, and walked toward the bar.

  Dani sat on the sofa. Elbows propped on her knees, she stared at Anthony. ‘Did you do it to get my phone number?’

  ‘Nooo.’

  ‘You want to work with me, right? You want to learn the ropes, get started on a makeup career?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Then we have to trust each other.’

  ‘You said you didn’t want me.’

  ‘Maybe I’ll change my mind. You obviously have a certain talent for frightening people.’

  ‘Oh I do.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, his chin on his fists. The same position as Dani. She noticed the similarity, wondered if it was intended to mock her. But she didn’t move.

  ‘I’ve always liked scary films.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘They’re fun. People jump and scream.’

  ‘In the audience?’

  ‘On the screen, too. It’s a blast.’

  ‘These films, do they scare you?’

  His tiny eyes widened. ‘The good ones do.’

  ‘How do they make you feel?’

  ‘Tight and shaky. I get goosebumps all over and want to scream.’ He lowered his hands, rubbed them, glanced toward the bar. ‘I get that way when I scare people, too.’

  ‘You frighten yourself?’

  ‘It’s fantastic.’

  ‘Do you do that much, go around trying to throw a fright into people – and into yourself?’

  ‘All the time.’

  Jack returned. He handed a can of Coors to Anthony, then sat down beside Dani and gave her a bottle of Dos Equis. ‘What’d I miss?’ he asked, and smiled wildly as if eager to join the madness.

  ‘Anthony was just explaining how he likes to frighten people.’

  ‘That sounds like fun. It must be especially nice for his victims.’

  ‘I never hurt anyone,’
he whispered as if sharing a wonderful secret.

  ‘You just like to make them squirm?’

  ‘I like to make them scream.’

  ‘Sort of a hobby.’

  ‘Hobby?’ He sniggered. He took a sip of beer, settled back and crossed his legs. ‘I’m the Chill Master. Once I’ve become famous for my horror effects, I’ll move into the production end. I’ll make films that’ll send audiences shrieking from the theaters.’

  ‘Nice to meet a fellow with ambition,’ Jack said.

  Dani frowned at him, smiled at Anthony. ‘Basically, then, you want someone to start you on the way.’

  ‘Exactly,’ he said. He took a sip of beer. ‘Who better than the queen of horror makeup effects?’

  ‘You read the Fangoria article?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Oh yes. And I’ve seen all Danielle’s films. She’s better than Savini.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Dani said.

  ‘How did you find her?’

  Looking pleased with himself, Anthony took out his billfold. He removed a thick mat of paper from the bill compartment, and snapped off its rubber band. He unfolded the pack. ‘My collection,’ he said. He peeled off a color photo apparently snipped from a magazine, and held it up. At this distance, the bearded face resembled Jack.

  ‘Rob Bottin,’ Anthony said. He showed them another. ‘Dick Smith. And here’s Rick Baker. Tom Savini. Danielle Larson.’

  Dani stared at the photo. It came from the Fangoria article.

  Smiling, Anthony started to put his collection back together. ‘I know all your faces. I’ve spent the last month keeping my eyes open, hanging around the studios and the “in” restaurants and bars. I knew I’d find one of you sooner or later.’

  ‘You’re very persistent,’ Dani said.

  ‘And innovative,’ Jack added.

  ‘I’m glad it was you I found. You’re the best. And the most beautiful.’

  You’re beautiful naked.

  ‘We’ll make a great team,’ Anthony said.

  ‘I’m sure of it.’

  Jack gaped at her.

  Dani ignored him. ‘We’re busy tomorrow. Why don’t you come over on Saturday? We’ll show you a few things, get you started.’

  ‘Honest?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘What time?’

  ‘In the morning. How about nine?’

  ‘Great!’

  ‘There’s only one condition.’

  He sank back in his chair, looking suddenly dejected.

  ‘No more bugging us. That means creeping around, following us, trespassing, spying on us. None of that. Otherwise, it’s all off. Okay?’

  ‘Sure!’ He grinned, pounded the arm of the chair, and raised his beer can high. ‘To Danielle Larson. You’re the greatest!’

  In his boyish enthusiasm, he seemed almost human.

  Dani leaned against the door and shut her eyes, relieved to be rid of the strange boy. But he would be back. ‘Do you think I’m nuts?’

  ‘Definitely. Haven’t you ever heard the age-old adage?’

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘Don’t feed it, maybe it’ll go away.’ Jack stepped close to her, held her by the shoulders, kissed her forehead. ‘That guy,’ he whispered, ‘is a lunatic.’

  ‘I know.’

  She moaned as Jack’s hands slipped inside her sleeve holes and rubbed her shoulders.

  ‘Do you feel sorry for him?’

  ‘Hell no,’ Dani said. ‘He scares me.’

  ‘Then why did you encourage him?’

  ‘I want him to be with us, not against us. You be nice to him Saturday, okay?’

  ‘I’ll be charming.’

  The hands squeezed warmth into Dani’s tight, aching muscles.

  ‘I’ve got one request,’ Jack said.

  ‘Uh-huh?’

  ‘Don’t ever let him in the house when I’m not here.’

  ‘You can bet on it.’

  12

  FROM HER car parked across the street, Linda saw Joel leave his house. He started up the sidewalk, striding fast and swinging his arms high. His lips were moving. He was either singing or talking to himself.

  Linda started her car. She pulled forward, turned around at the end of the block, and drove up beside Joel. He jumped at the beep of her horn, but kept on walking.

  ‘Hey Joel, want a ride?’

  Turning, he ducked his head and raised his sunglasses. He squinted out from under the dark lenses. ‘Linda?’

  ‘Yeah. Where you going?’

  ‘The pharmacy.’

  ‘Hop in. I’ll give you a lift.’

  ‘Oh, that’s all right.’

  ‘Come on.’ Leaning across the seat, she swung open the passenger door.

  ‘Well . . .’ He shrugged, then loped over and climbed in. ‘Thanks a lot,’ he said. He slammed the door shut so hard the car shook. ‘I don’t want to put you out.’

  ‘I was going that way, anyhow.’

  ‘Well, thanks.’

  She started the car forward. ‘Besides, it’s nice to have some company. I haven’t seen many of the kids since the accident.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He nodded, staring straight ahead. ‘That was too bad about your accident.’

  ‘Those things happen.’

  ‘You feeling all right, now?’

  ‘Fine, thank you.’

  ‘Good. That’s good.’ He rubbed his hands on his Bermuda shorts. He rested an elbow on the window sill. ‘This sure beats walking.’

  ‘It’s hot out there.’

  ‘Yeah. Sure is.’

  ‘It’ll be real nice over at the river.’

  ‘Yeah, probably.’

  ‘I’m on my way over there.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  Linda gestured over her shoulder. Joel glanced around at the back seat.

  ‘Gonna have a picnic?’

  ‘Sure am. I’ve got fried chicken in there, and beer in the cooler.’

  ‘Beer?’

  ‘I’ve got plenty. How would you like to come along?’

  ‘Geez, I don’t know.’

  ‘Come on. It’ll be great.’

  ‘I’d better not. I have to pick up this stuff for Mom.’

  ‘Oh. Is she sick?’

  ‘No, but . . .’

  ‘If it’s nothing that urgent, you could just get it later, couldn’t you?’

  ‘I guess, but I’d still better not.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Linda said.

  He frowned at his knees.

  ‘What, have I got leprosy?’

  ‘No!’

  She shook her head and tried to look sad. ‘You probably think a girl like me has it made – a cheerleader, good grades, popular as hell. Well, I’ve got news, I’m a human being. I get hungry, just like everyone else. I sweat. I worry. I get horny. I get depressed. Believe it or not, sometimes I even get lonely.’

  ‘You?’

  ‘Yeah, me. The marvelous Linda Allison. Do you know who always asked me for dates? Jerks who thought they were God’s gift to women. They were the only ones with guts enough to call. Do you think they cared about me as a person? They didn’t give a damn about what’s in my head or heart. They just cared about what’s under my clothes. If you want to know how lonely feels, you oughta find yourself parked in the woods with a guy who thinks you’re a toy.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Joel said.

  She stopped at the intersection. A right-hand turn would lead downtown, a left would take them toward the river. She stared at Joel. He looked confused and glum, but no longer nervous. ‘Normal, nice guys – guys like you – never called.’

  He shrugged.

  ‘You thought I was too good for you?’

  ‘Sort of.’

  ‘You thought I’d laugh at you?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  Reaching out, Linda stroked his hand. ‘Why would I laugh at you?’

  He shook his head, and seemed to have a hard time swallowing.

  ‘Come on, Joel. Let’s go to the river. Please? I .
. . I don’t want to be alone.’

  ‘Okay.’

  She turned left.

  The river, five miles north of town, curved through an area of dense forest. A portion of the woods had been cleared for the public, tables and barbeques set up, sand poured to make a small beach, a gravel parking lot laid. On summer days, it was usually aswarm with families, young couples, teenagers throwing Frisbees when they weren’t swimming. At night, it became a place for romance.

  Linda had been there often at night. Outside, on blankets. Inside cars. Usually as an eager participant. But she’d been with enough jerks to know how it felt being used – enough to convince Joel of her sorry plight.

  As usual, the parking lot was crowded. She drove on by.

  ‘Where’s we going?’ Joel asked, breaking the long silence.

  ‘Up here a ways. I know a real nice place where there won’t be a lot of people in our way.’

  ‘Oh. Okay.’ He patted his knees as if he needed to keep his hands busy.

  ‘You don’t mind, do you?’

  ‘No. Wherever you want’s fine with me.’ He kept drumming his legs. He stared out the windshield, out the side window, down at his tapping hands. He looked everywhere except at Linda.

  ‘No need to be nervous.’

  ‘Me? I’m not nervous.’

  ‘I don’t bite, you know.’

  ‘Just chicken?’ he asked, and made a weak smile.

  Linda forced herself to laugh.

  Joel grinned and shrugged. ‘Do you know why the chicken committed suicide?’ he asked.

  ‘No, why?’

  ‘It didn’t give a cluck.’

  Linda laughed and shook her head.

  ‘Wait. Wait, here’s a good one. Do you know how to make a dead chicken float?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘First you get a dead chicken. Add a little ice cream, a little root beer . . .’ He started laughing.

  ‘Oh, that’s gross.’

  ‘Yeah, isn’t it? That’s a good one. That’s one of my favourites.’

  Linda slowed down and swung onto the road’s bumpy shoulder. ‘Do you pluck it first?’

  ‘No. The feathers are the best part.’

  ‘Ish.’

  They climbed from the car, Joel still laughing quietly. Linda opened the back door. She handed out the picnic basket and cooler. She grabbed her towel and faded red blanket, then led the way into the woods.

  ‘Is the river very far?’

  ‘Just two or three miles.’

  He laughed some more. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘you’ve got a good sense of humor.’