Night Show

by Richard Laymon

  ‘I’m an old hand at this,’ she assured him, holding the flame to a coal. When that one caught, she moved the match to another and another until fire ringed the pile. ‘That ought to do it.’

  She picked up the grill and set it in place. The black grease on its bars hissed and smoked in the flapping blaze.

  She turned to Tony. ‘All set. Have another beer if you want. They’re in the refrigerator. I’ll be back in a few minutes.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Nodding, she turned away from him. She used the living room entrance, slid the screen door shut behind her, and left it unlocked so he could come in for beer.

  She hoped that was all he would do.

  Under the circumstances, she expected him to behave.

  She couldn’t trust him completely, though. When she shut herself inside the master bedroom, she snapped down the lock button. She closed the sliding glass door and locked it, then pulled the curtains.

  Striding toward the bathroom, she saw herself in the full-length mirror – the orange bit of fabric hardly covering her pubic mound, the cord stretching around her bare hips to the brief triangle in back that left the sides of her buttocks exposed. My God, to think that she’d let Tony see her this way! And the top was no better.

  The kid got an eyefull.

  But at least he’d behaved himself. So far.

  Hell, his mother had died. The last thing on his mind should be the state of Dani’s undress.

  Entering the bathroom, she pulled at the hanging strings of her bikini and slipped it off. She climbed into the tub.

  Ten minutes later, dressed in top-siders, white jeans and a silken red aloha shin, Dani left her room. She walked down the corridor, wondering if there would be time to prepare rice. That’d be cutting it close. Only an hour left before it’d be time to leave. Unless she wanted to forget about the movies. No. If she didn’t go, how would she ever get rid of . . . Beside her, a door sprang open. She flinched, head snapping toward it.

  Tony, just inside the guest bathroom, leaped back.

  ‘Geez, Tony!’

  He let out a nervous laugh. ‘Startled me.’

  ‘Yeah?’ She pressed a hand to her throbbing chest and swallowed hard.

  ‘I hope it was all right,’ he said. ‘I had to . . . you know.’

  ‘That’s what it’s for.’

  As he stepped out of the bathroom, the corridor seemed to shrink, trapping Dani close to him. She turned away. Her arm swept against the wall as she started forward. Tony stayed beside her. She felt suffocated, but forced herself not to rush. A few more steps. A few more. Then some of the oppression lifted, dispelled by the brightness and open spaces of the living room. She felt as if she could breathe again, but Tony’s presence in the house still felt wrong.

  He shouldn’t be in here.

  Not with Jack gone.

  ‘Did you get some more beer?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes. Thank you.’

  ‘Well, let’s see how the charcoal’s doing.’

  Tony hurried across the living room and slid open the screen. As Dani stepped through, he moved forward and she brushed against him. She pretended not to notice. She felt relieved to get outside.

  At the barbeque, she saw that the edges of the fresh briquets had turned gray. She lowered a hand close to the grill. There was heat, but not quite enough. ‘I guess it’s about ready,’ she said. ‘Would you like a salad?’

  Tony shook his bald head.

  ‘I’d make rice, but there really isn’t enough time. I have to be going pretty soon.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘There’s a couple of films I need to see.’

  ‘You’re going to the movies?’ he asked, his small eyes opening wide. ‘Can I go with you?’

  Dani tried not to grimace.

  ‘Please? I’ll even buy the tickets.’

  ‘There’s no need for that.’

  ‘I’d like to. Really. You’ve been so nice to me.’

  ‘You’ve probably already seen the movies, anyway.’

  ‘What are they?’

  ‘Zombie Invasion and Night Creeper.’

  ‘Wow! When did they open?’

  ‘Yesterday, I think.’

  ‘Man, I’ve really been looking forward to Night Creeper!’

  Tony was eager to drive.

  ‘No, that’s all right,’ Dani said as they left the house. ‘We’ll take my car.’

  ‘Come on. It’ll be fun. Have you ever gone in a hearse?’

  ‘No. And it’s an experience I plan to avoid as long as possible.’ She smiled at her joke. Tony didn’t. His mother had just died. Dani suddenly blushed at her tactless remark. ‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘that monster must eat up gas like there’s no tomorrow.’

  ‘It is pretty bad,’ he admitted.

  Dani climbed into her Rabbit, leaned across the seat and unlocked the passenger door. ‘What ever possessed you to buy that thing?’ she asked, passing it as she backed onto the road.

  ‘It scares people.’

  ‘Doesn’t it scare you?’

  ‘That’s half the fun.’ He turned in his seat to face her. ‘It’s a fifty-two, you know. It was hauling stiffs more than ten years before I was even born. I figured it all out: if it even carried just two a week, that’s more than three thousand in thirty years. It was probably even more. Can you imagine all those bodies?’

  ‘I’d rather not.’

  ‘I’ve got a coffin in the back. A real nice mahogany one. Silk lining and everything. Sometimes, I sleep in it.’

  ‘Wonderful.’

  ‘Do you believe in ghosts?’

  Dani shrugged.

  ‘I do. Sometimes, I hear them when I’m driving.’

  ‘Geez, Tony.’

  ‘Moaning and groaning.’

  ‘You’re making that up.’

  ‘No. Honest. And once, around midnight, a hand touched the back of my neck. I almost crashed. When I looked around, though, nobody was there.’

  ‘Stop it, Tony. I’m serious. I don’t want to hear this. If you keep it up, I’ll turn the car around and that’ll be it for the movies.’

  ‘I just thought you’d be interested,’ he said, sounding hurt.

  ‘Some other time, all right?’

  ‘Okay.’ He sat forward and crossed his arms.

  After a while, to break his gloomy silence, Dani asked about his favourite movies.

  He immediately cheered up. ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre is my all-time favorite.’

  ‘Mine too.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘How’d you like it when he stuck that girl on the meat hook?’

  ‘I cringed. I could almost feel it going in.’

  ‘Yeah, me too. How about the old guy with the hammer?’

  ‘Yuck.’

  Dani found that she was enjoying their talk. As she drove down Crescent Heights toward Pico, they discussed Hooper’s other works. The conversation shifted to films by Craven, Romero, Cronenburg, Carpenter. They talked about their favorite scene, Dani sometimes pointing out how certain effects were created.

  ‘How about that shower scene in Eyes of the Maniac?’

  ‘Oh, you saw that?’

  ‘Four times,’ Tony said. ‘How’d you do that with the poker?’

  ‘It actually penetrated a full body appliance we’d made up of Jenny – a dummy.’

  ‘It looked so real.’

  ‘Well, we made it from a cast of her. Basically the same technique we used on you this morning, except we covered her entire body.’

  ‘Naked?’

  ‘Yeah.’ She thought of Ingrid.

  ‘What were the guts?’

  ‘Guts.’

  ‘Real guts?’

  ‘Pig entrails. We get them from a slaughter house.’

  He shook his head. ‘You do all that stuff, but you don’t want to hear about my death buggy.’

  ‘That’s right. I still don’t.’

  ‘What’s
the difference?’

  ‘Films aren’t real.’

  ‘Pig guts are.’

  ‘I don’t enjoy that part. It’s just necessary. Besides, I let Jack do most of the real grubby stuff.’

  ‘It wouldn’t bother me.’

  ‘I’m sure. But anyway, that’s the difference. Films are make-believe. Jenny Baylor didn’t get skewered with a fireplace poker. After it was over, she went home. Not to a morgue.’

  ‘But it scared the hell out of the audience. It grossed them out.’

  ‘It’s just toying with their imaginations. I mean, they let themselves believe the movie’s real, but deep down they know it isn’t.’

  ‘So they aren’t as scared.’

  ‘They’re playing at being scared.’

  ‘That’s why real life is better,’ Tony said, and looked at her as if expecting a challenge.

  ‘Skewering people?’

  ‘No, scaring them. I’ve never hurt anybody. I just like to scare the shit out of them. Have you ever done that?’

  ‘I’ve jumped out of the dark and yelled “Boo” a few times.’

  ‘Isn’t it a kick?’

  ‘It’s fun once in a while.’

  ‘Doesn’t it make you all shaky and excited. Hiding in the dark, just waiting to pounce?’

  She shrugged.

  ‘It turns me on.’

  ‘Different strokes,’ Dani muttered, and swung the car over to an empty stretch of curb. She glanced at her wristwatch. ‘Five minutes to spare.’

  Walking toward the ticket window, she opened her purse.

  ‘I’ll buy,’ Tony said. He sounded determined.

  Dani frowned. She doubted he had much money and she didn’t want to feel obligated. On the other hand, a refusal might hurt his feelings. Men were usually strange that way. ‘All right,’ she said, and managed a smile. ‘But you’ve gotta let me buy the popcorn.’

  ‘A deal.’

  My God, she thought, this is sounding like a date.

  19

  EACH CARRYING a tub of popcorn and a Coke, they made their way up a slanted corridor to the entrance of theater three. A sign above the door read ‘ZOMBIE’.

  For a Saturday night, the auditorium wasn’t very crowded. They entered a row near the front, sidestepping past the knees of a teenaged couple.

  ‘Here?’ Tony asked.

  Dani shook her head, not wanting to block the view of a black family already seated, though she felt a stir of anger at the parents. The baby in the woman’s arms was probably too young to notice the violence and gore in these films, but the other two were older. They would notice, all right.

  With a quick scan of the audience, she spotted at least fifteen other children. It wasn’t unusual, but it never failed to sicken her.

  They took seats as the theater lights dimmed. Opening her straw, Dani watched an ad for the LA Times. Then a trailer came on, warning the patrons not to flick their Bics ‘in the thick of the flick’. It had seemed cute the first few times she’d seen it. She stabbed her straw through the slits of the Coke carton.

  Tony’s arm eased against her. She leaned sideways slightly to break the contact, and sipped her drink.

  During the previews, a teenaged couple stepped into the next row. The boy sat down in front of Dani. For a moment, his head blocked the lower part of the screen. Then he leaned sideways, out of Dani’s way, and put his arm around the girl in front of Tony. They whispered a few words. They kissed.

  Dani felt a stir of longing. If only Jack were here . . .

  Zombie Invasion started. The title flashed onto the screen, but there were no opening credits. They’d been edited out. A bad sign.

  A young, dark-haired woman was strolling among cemetery monuments at night. She wore a long, white nightgown and carried a sprig of flowers. The scene looked familiar to Dani. As the woman knelt to place her flowers on a grave, a hand burst from the soil and grabbed her throat. It pulled her down. The breaking dirt spilled away, and a ragged, decomposing corpse rose up, its mouth agape to bite her.

  Did you catch that dental work on Stanley the stiff? Bleah! I don’t know about you, boys and girls, but I’d rather kiss a toad. This guy is definitely not going to turn into a handsome prince.

  It was Livonia’s sultry voice, as vivid as her amazing cleavage in Dani’s mind. Livonia, the seductive vampire hostess of Monster Matinee. Sunday afternoons. Four o’clock. Channel six.

  Here’s a gem you can really sink your teeth into . . . or fangs, as the case may be.

  ‘I’ll be damned,’ Dani muttered.

  Tony leaned close, his arm once again touching her. ‘Huh?’

  ‘I saw this turkey on television last month.’

  ‘Television?’

  ‘It was called Bite of Death. Livonia showed it.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Distributor’s shenanigans,’ she said. She felt cheated and angry, then just disappointed. To have this happen on top of Jack’s surprise date and Tony popping up . . . She sighed.

  At least the afternoon had been nice.

  Leaning away from Tony, she slumped down in her seat, crossed a foot over one knee and dug into her popcorn. She tried to watch the film. The dubbing was lousy, lips moving out of sync with the words. Even when the characters were outside, their voices reverberated as if recorded in a concrete room.

  The story had been a bore the first time she saw it, made bearable only by commercial interruptions and Livonia’s sarcastic comments. Watching it now, Dani entertained herself by recalling Livonia’s quips and thinking up her own.

  She and Jack would be trading remarks in soft whispers if he were here, having a great time, enjoying this dud. She realised, with some astonishment, that they’d seen no movies together since becoming lovers. They’d viewed dailies before, they’d gone to some screenings, but that had been part of the job. So far, they’d never sat in the darkness like kids on a date, holding hands and snuggling.

  Maybe tomorrow night.

  A drive-in. Fantastic! One of those in the valley. Pick a double feature they didn’t really care about, because even if you’re not fooling around you can’t get that involved with a drive-in movie. And she planned to fool around. Definitely.

  They should take a blanket along.

  She would wear a skirt.

  As her mind lingered on the possibilities, she felt her skin heating, her heart speeding up, her nipples rising turgid against the caress of her shirt. The inseam of her jeans felt like a pressing hand.

  Christ!

  She sat up quickly to ease the pressure, and glanced at Tony, worried that he might somehow sense her arousal.

  He turned toward her, eyebrows rising.

  She forced a smile. ‘How do you like it so far?’

  ‘It stinks.’

  ‘That’s being generous.’

  ‘I don’t mind, though. I like being here.’

  ‘Good. I’m glad.’

  He stared at her. ‘You were awfully nice to let me come along.’

  ‘That’s all right.’ His gaze made Dani uncomfortable. She turned away. He kept on staring. She scraped up the last of her popcorn and ate it, watching the screen, trying to ignore him. She slipped a napkin from her shirt pocket. She wiped her hands, her mouth. She wadded it and dropped it into the tub. Tony’s head was still turned toward her. She sipped the watery remains of her Coke, and finally looked at him. ‘You’re missing the movie.’

  ‘You’re so beautiful.’

  His words made a cold place in Dani’s stomach. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

  A smile trembled on Tony’s lips and he turned away.

  Dani took a few slow, deep breaths to calm herself. Then she bent down and placed her empty containers on the floor. She sat up. Her shoulders pressed Tony’s outstretched arm. She flinched at its touch, but forced herself not to lurch forward.

  ‘Please, Tony.’

  ‘Did I startle you?’ He rubbed her right shoulder, making the silken shirt slide against her sk
in.

  ‘We’re not here for that. Please.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I have a boy friend.’

  ‘You mean Jack?’ The hand continued to caress her.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘He’s not here.’

  ‘That’s not the point. Take your arm away.’

  It stayed. ‘Don’t you like me?’

  ‘Tony!’

  It lifted, swung over her head, and settled on the armrest between them.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I didn’t mean any harm,’ he said, sounding pitiful.

  ‘I know.’

  The boy in front of Dani looked back and frowned. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered. Turning back, he snuggled down again with his girl friend.

  Tony crossed his arms and stared at the screen.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Dani whispered. ‘Don’t feel bad.’

  He nodded slightly, but didn’t look at her. He blinked. Tears spilled from the corners of his eyes, making shiny streaks down his face. He sniffed and wiped them away.

  Reaching out, Dani patted his knee.

  He gazed down at her hand. She turned it over. Tony’s hand pressed against it. She closed her fingers and squeezed gently. ‘Friends?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah.’

  She held him for a moment. With a final squeeze, she let go and folded her hands on her lap. Bringing him to the movies had been a great mistake. She should’ve known better. She’d been pushed into it, but she could have refused. A simple no. Instead of that, she’d let her sympathy get in the way and twist her perspective.

  She felt a stir of anger. At herself. At Tony. He’d used his mother’s death as a lever to force his way deeper into her life. It wasn’t fair.

  She should’ve listened to Jack’s advice at the outset: don’t feed it, maybe it’ll go away.

  And what does she do? She feeds it. Brilliant move. A little kindness goes a long way. Now this weird kid thinks he’s her boy friend.

  And she feels like a jerk for upsetting him.

  Just wonderful.

  On the screen, a horde of grisly corpses was rampaging through an apartment complex, bashing down doors, dragging their hysterical victims from hiding places in closets and bathrooms, under beds, ripping off arms and legs, devouring flesh.

  Not exactly Livonia’s version. Most of the gore had been edited out for television.