Ghost Light

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Ghost Light Page 18

by Hautala, Rick


  Late at night, Cindy would lie in bed and listen to the sounds in the street, thinking that maybe this was the simple, sad truth—their marriage had run its course, and now she was off on her own, and maybe that would have been fine… except for these two kids she had… kids who weren’t even hers!

  Goddamn! How in the hell could I have let something like this happen to me?

  During the week, Cindy had spent another afternoon and then a couple of evenings drinking wine and talking with Alice Crowther, but she never revealed to her much about her real situation, choosing instead to keep everything bottled up inside herself where it quietly ate away at her heart.

  She was beginning to feel good about Alice, and at times she even found herself wishing their situation was different so they could become genuine friends; but—just like her friends back in Omaha—she didn’t want to involve Alice in what was really going on in her life. She was very much aware of the wall she was putting up around herself, but she convinced herself that it was necessary, just in case the police or the FBI or someone came around, looking for her. She wanted few—no, make that no attachments here in Maine because she wanted to be able to pick up and leave at a moment’s notice if she had to.

  The only other thought that nagged at her mind in the darkest hours was about the kids? Are they going to be all right? And what if I ever decide I want to leave THEM behind?

  2

  “So, do you want the usual? Just a little bit off the back and sides?”

  Alex was sitting in the barber’s chair with the silky sheet draped over his shoulders as he stared blankly at his reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror. A twisted smile pulled up the corners of his mouth, but he kept his gaze hard when he met the eyes of Ron Burns, his regular barber. Ron—like everyone else who knew Alex—had heard about what had happened to Debbie, but other than a brief expression of his condolences, he said nothing about it. Obviously he felt awkward talking to Alex. Death was a difficult subject.

  “Uh, no,” Alex said, having to fight back his widening smile. “Take a lot off this time, I think. Trim it right up so it’s above my ears and collar.”

  “Jeeze, what’s with this new look?” Ron sounded surprised, but Alex could sense the nervous tension in the man. “Are you applying for a new job or something?”

  “Yeah, or something,” Alex replied, sniffing with laughter and thinking—If you only knew!

  While Ron stood behind him, flicking his scissors, like an artist, preparing to begin, Alex silently studied his own reflection.

  “You know,” he said, as if it was a spur-of-the-moment decision, “while you’re at it, why don’t you take out that old straight-edge razor of yours, strop it up, and get rid of this goddamned mustache for me.”

  Ron looked at him with surprise and snorted with laughter.

  “Are you serious?” he said. “Christ, Alex, you’ve been coming in here—what? Better than ten years, now, and I ain’t never seen you without your mustache.”

  Alex was unable to stop it as his smile widened. “No, I don’t think anyone has,” he said. “But I—you know, I just feel like I need something new in my life. It—it’s been a pretty rough period in my life—”

  “I know.”

  “And…” Alex shrugged as though caught between emotions. “I don’t know. I guess I want to surprise everyone with my new look.”

  “Well, you sure as hell will,” Ron said. “Here goes.”

  He scratched behind his ear before taking the first snip. A long strand of brown hair rolled off Alex’s shoulder and landed on the floor.

  “I hope to hell you’re gonna like it.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Alex said, settling into the seat. “I know I will.”

  3

  With only a week to go before school started, Cindy decided on Thursday morning that, as risky as it might be, she had to register the kids in the public schools. She called the superintendent’s office for an appointment, and that afternoon, with both children in tow, drove the short distance to Pine Knoll Elementary, on the corner of Deering Avenue and Prospect Street, to meet with Ester Castine, the school’s principal. The knot of tension that was twisting in her stomach got steadily tighter as she pulled into the school parking lot and, ignoring the signs that said “School Buses Only,” stopped the car in the circular driveway as close as she could get to the front door. Sucking in a deep breath, she turned off the ignition, and they all got out of the car.

  Before starting up the walkway, she stopped the kids and knelt down to make sure they looked all right. Licking the palm of her hand, she tried to slick down Billy’s cowlick, but it wouldn’t stay flat.

  “Now look here,” she said, eying them seriously. “Once we’re inside the school, I want you to be quiet and let me do all the talking, okay?”

  “Even if she asks us a question?” Billy said.

  Cindy frowned. She wasn’t half as worried about Krissy as she was concerned that Billy might say or do something that would contradict the story she had concocted.

  “Well, you see—” she said, rubbing her hands nervously together, “because of all the… you know, because of everything’s that happened and all, I—uh, I’m not exactly going to be telling the truth in there.”

  Krissy stared at her blankly as if she barely understood her and simply shrugged; then she glanced up at the sky and, looking like she was about to cry, started blinking her eyes rapidly. Billy smiled brightly at Cindy and said, “Hey, don’t worry, Aunt Cindy. I didn’t think you were going to tell her that you kidnapped us.”

  For an instant, Cindy bristled. “It’s not like that!” she said in a low, harsh voice. “I—you see, your mother—”

  A warm swell of emotion made her eyes fill up with tears as she fought for control. The heat of the day seemed to rise suddenly. It pressed in on her, making it difficult for her to catch her breath.

  “Look, it’s probably much too complicated for you to understand,” she said. “God, it’s too complicated for me to understand, but the bottom line is this—in a very legal way, you are my kids now, and I’m your mother. If you have to address me in there, please try to remember to call me Mom. Got it?”

  She felt completely bogus, asking these kids to do that, and the memory of their real mother—her dead sister—filled her with the cold, hollow ache of loneliness. Close to tears, she sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “I know it’s hard for you to understand, but your mother left a will—that’s a legal piece of paper, Krissy—saying that, if something should ever happen to her, she wanted me to be the one to raise you. But you see—”

  She wanted to say more but absolutely didn’t want to say anything about her suspicion that their father had killed their mother. It wasn’t that she wasn’t convinced that was the truth; she had no doubt of it, but she didn’t want to add anything more to the burden these kids were already carrying.

  “Come on,” Billy said, smiling at her brightly. “It’s not like we’re stupid or something. We’re not gonna blow it for you. Honest!”

  “It’s not just a matter of blowing it,” Cindy said, feeling a slight rush of anger. “I mean, I’m nervous as hell about doing this. I wouldn’t have even brought you along except Mrs. Castine thought it’d be a good idea if you saw the school before classes start in the fall. I—I think I’ve thought of everything that could happen in here, all the questions she might ask, but I … you see, I may have to tell this woman some things that might surprise you.”

  “You mean you’re gonna lie to her,” Billy said.

  Cindy’s anger bristled all the more.

  “Well—yeah, kind of, but I want you both to know that I—that I love you, and I…”

  A deep swelling of emotion made her eyes sting with tears as she reached forward and pulled the two kids close to her. Her hands felt numb as she grasped them to her.

  “I love you both… as much as if you really were my own kids, and I—I’m doing what I thin
k is best for both of you. It’s just, I don’t want you to think that it’s okay for people to… to lie.”

  “Except in cases like this,” Billy said matter-of-factly. He pulled a little bit away from her and glanced around nervously, as though embarrassed that someone might see her hugging him.

  “Well—yeah, I suppose so,” Cindy replied. “I think the number one important thing we have to keep in mind here is that, after things settle down a bit, I’m going to talk with a lawyer and do everything I can to make sure it’s absolutely legal for me to have you, that you don’t have to worry about being taken away, and I—”

  “But what about our daddy?” Krissy said in a high, broken voice. She looked like she wanted to cry. Her brown eyes were sparkling like wet marbles in the sunlight, but she stood there with her body rigidly erect, her arms clamped to her sides.

  “Won’t I ever see my daddy again? I … I miss him and where we used to live. Why can’t I see him? Why can’t we go back home to Omaha now?”

  Cindy knelt down in front of Krissy and pulled her close to her, but the little girl wouldn’t yield. Her body remained rigid as her thin shoulders shook with deep, dry sobs. Still, no tears fell, and all Cindy could do was hold her tightly and mutter, “There, there, honey… there, there…”

  All the while, Billy stood by, looking impatient and maybe a little more nervous than he wanted to let show as he scanned the front of the school building. After a time, Cindy glanced over Krissy’s shoulder at her wristwatch and saw that they were already five minutes late for the appointment. Taking a tissue from her purse, she leaned back and gently wiped Krissy’s eyes, then her own. It pained her deeply to see how much like her mother Krissy looked.

  “It doesn’t look all that different from my school in Omaha,” Billy said, “And besides, I already know two kids who’ll be going here. Maybe I can ask to be in their class.”

  “Maybe,” Cindy said as she stood up and took Krissy’s hand. The sudden rush of blood from her head made her dizzy, and tiny white spots zigzagged in front of her eyes.

  “And Krissy,” she said, “I know you’re probably nervous as heck about starting first grade in a new place like this, but you have to trust me—I’m doing what I think is best for you because I love you.”

  Krissy looked at her with a blank expression and didn’t reply, but Cindy was surprised to find no resistance from her as she led her up the asphalt walkway to the front door with Billy following along, a step or two behind.

  One side of the double front doors was unlocked.

  Cindy pulled on it, and a door swung open heavily. She held it open as Krissy and Billy entered. As soon as she stepped inside, and the door slammed shut behind her with a loud clang, the hot, stale air inside the building assaulted her, making the winding tension inside her worsen.

  “This way, I guess,” she said, trying to sound confident and in control as she pointed to the red arrow sign with the word “Office,” pointing to the right. Neither child said a word as they walked down the corridor. The sound of their sneakers, squeaking like tiny mice on the freshly-waxed floor, soon got on Cindy’s nerves, but she said nothing.

  “Now remember what I said,” she cautioned as they approached the closed office door. She looked through the wire-mesh window and saw an elderly-looking woman with gray hair, sitting behind the front desk. She was dressed conservatively in a dark blue dress and wore narrow reading glasses, which were perched on the tip of her nose. She smiled a silent greeting when Cindy rapped lightly on the door, then waved for her to enter.

  Please, God, just get me through this! She forced a smile across her face and opened the office door. Swallowing noisily, she said, “Hello. You must be Mrs. Castine.”

  “And you must be Mrs. Toland. Please. Come right in.”

  4

  By twelve o’clock Thursday afternoon, just about the same time Cindy was walking into Mrs. Castine’s office at Pine Knoll Elementary, Alex threw his packed duffel bags into the trunk of the car and took to the road, heading east on I-90. He was determined to make the trip to Maine as fast as possible, so he drove fifteen to twenty miles per hour over the speed limit and planned to stay behind the steering wheel up to fourteen hours a day. He had considered flying to Maine and renting a car once he was there, but thought better of it, deciding that, just in case things got out of control—and he knew there was a damned good chance they would!—he wanted as little record as possible that he had been in the state.

  No, it was better this way, to play it cool.

  It had been more than a month, now, since Cindy had stolen his kids away from him, and in that time, he’d had a lot to think about, lots to consider and plan. Over the years, he had never thought much about Cindy considering her nothing more than a royal pain in the ass, the way she hung around with Debbie so much, twisting her mind and, no doubt, turning her against him. But based on what little he knew about her, he suspected that she was probably shitting her pants with worry that he had already reported her to the police, and that the state police and FBI in all fifty states were on the lookout for her.

  He liked that idea.

  Yeah, let her worry her ass off!

  A little pressure… Christ, no! A lot of pressure building up on her would be a damned good thing! He was going to make her pay.

  Like her dip-shit husband, maybe she’d end up fucking-A dead! No matter what happened, he was going to tell her every detail about what he had done to her husband, and how he’d been waiting in a motel room for his whore to show up.

  Ummm, yes, that was going to be sweet!

  It would probably be the very last thing he told her before he killed her… if it came to that. He had killed plenty of men in Vietnam, so he knew he wouldn’t flinch at killing her when the time came.

  No, that was going to be pleasure, if it came to that!

  And, yeah, he thought over and over to himself as he drove the long, straight highway through the late-summer cornfields of Iowa. You can bet your goddamned ass I’m going to have one hell of a good time with this!

  5

  “Well… you see… we weren’t exactly sure where we were going to end up, and, unfortunately, the records we had from the school were in the car along with some other important papers when the car was stolen, and when it was finally returned—well, everything, of course, was gone.”

  The words tumbled out of Cindy’s mouth in a gush, and all she could think was, Good Lord, I’m blowing this horribly! I’m making it sound all so rehearsed!

  “My, my, that’s too bad,” Mrs. Castine said. She smiled, and the motion made the loose skin at the corners of her mouth stretch tightly. Cindy could see the individual pores in the woman’s wrinkled cheeks. “Of course, you must realize that we really have to have the children’s permanent records on file. I don’t know how they do it in your home state, but our policy is to never release the originals. Do you mean to tell me the school gave them to you?”

  “Oh, no—no, these were just photocopies,” Cindy said, quickly recovering.

  “Well, then,” Mrs. Castine said, “perhaps if you have the school’s telephone number in… Where was it you said you’re from?”

  “Council Bluffs, Iowa,” Cindy said, horribly aware of the tremor in her voice. She wished to hell she had the lack of scruples to lie convincingly… or else the nerve to tell this Mrs. Castine the whole truth of their situation and hope she became an ally.

  “Yes, Council Bluffs. Well, then, if you can give me the phone number for the school, our usual policy is to contact the office directly and request that they—”

  “Oh, I’ve already called them and asked them to send me replacements—another set of photocopies, I mean. I should have them in—well, they said they would send them out no more than a week or two after school begins. That’s next week for us out there, too.”

  In truth, she had no idea when school started for the kids in Omaha. This was just another one of those little things—like having photocopies, not the
originals of the school records—which she hadn’t foreseen. If there were many more like that, she knew her story would crack.

  “You know, I just feel so badly about this,” Cindy said, “but, well, like I said, we had no idea where we were going to end up. But this won’t hinder the kids being able to start school on time, though, will it?”

  “Oh, no, of course it won’t,” Mrs. Castine said although the slight frown on her brow contradicted her words. “It’s just that, handling it this way is—well, a little bit out of the ordinary.”

  She was still smiling benignly as she glanced from Krissy to Billy, then back to Cindy again, but all Cindy could see in her expression was a growing hint of suspicion.

  Christ, she’s on to me! She knows I’m lying! she thought. Hell, I’d be suspicious, too, but at least I didn’t use the lame-o excuse that the school burned down with all their records in it. I dunno… maybe this is going to work!

  “Well, then, if that’s the case, Mrs. Toland, I’d say, once you finish filling in those forms, the only other thing we have to do is pay a quick visit to Mrs. Lowry, and then you’re all set.”

  “Mrs. Lowry?”

  The cold lump that had been forming in the center of Cindy’s chest throughout this meeting got suddenly colder. Her hand holding the pen went suddenly numb.

  “Yes, Mrs. Lowry. She’s the school nurse,” Mrs. Castine said as she pushed back her chair and stood up from her desk. “She’ll want to have the children’s immunization records on file and, perhaps, she’ll give them each a brief physical examination. Nothing exciting, just a quick check of their height and weight, maybe look down their throats.”

  “Their immunization records—?” Cindy echoed hollowly.

  Shit, this is it! This is the one goddamned thing I didn’t think of that’s gonna break me!

 

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