Night in the Lonesome October

by Richard Laymon

  ‘And have them arrest you for breaking in?’

  ‘Whatever.’

  ‘Ed, don’t be an imbecile.’

  ‘Later,’ I said.

  Leaving him outside, I pulled the door shut.

  Chapter Sixty-seven

  We walked deeper into the thrift shop, leaving behind the glow of light from the display window. In the darkness in front of me, Casey halted and turned around. She put a hand on my arm and whispered, ‘Shoes.’

  We both removed our shoes. Then she put her hands on my shoulders and leaned close to me. ‘You wait here,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll go upstairs and ...’

  ‘Not without me.’

  She squeezed my shoulders. ‘I do this sort of thing all the time.’

  ‘But if Randy’s waiting for us ...’

  ‘He’ll never know I’m there.’

  Her statement seemed more like pride - or wishful thinking - than fact. ‘I should go up with you,’ I said.

  ‘Better if you stay down here. I’ll just go up and scout around, find out what’s going on. Then I’ll come back and we’ll figure out what to do.’

  ‘God, I wish I hadn’t lost those guns.’

  ‘I don’t need a gun. I’ll be fine. But you wait here. Promise?’

  I hesitated.

  ‘Promise,’ she said.

  ‘Okay. I promise.’

  Leaning forward, she kissed me gently on the mouth. Then she whispered, ‘See ya,’ and slipped away from me. Standing motionless, I watched her glide away like a black shadow. She made no sound at all. In moments, she disappeared entirely.

  Feeling sick inside, I turned around. Lights from the display window cast a yellow glow over the clutter of furniture and clothes racks between me and the front of the shop. I saw rocking chairs, piles of books and magazines on shelves and tables, dolls, old-fashioned kerosene lamps, statues, vases and all sorts of nicknacks. Hanging on the wall behind the cashier’s counter were velvet paintings of Jesus and John F. Kennedy and Jerry Garcia, along with a stuffed ‘jackalope,’ the head of a deer, and a barn owl with a snake clutched in its beak. A variety of swords and spears were also mounted on the wall.

  While making my way toward the counter, I looked out the display window. The mannequins and some other items blocked only a small part of my view.

  Kirkus seemed to be gone, but his car was still parked at the curb. Maybe he’d decided to wait for us in the donut shop.

  Or had he gone off to phone the police?

  No, I thought. Whatever else is going on with Kirkus, he won’t do anything that might get me arrested.

  I stepped quietly around one end of the counter, reached high up the wall with both hands and lifted a katana off its hooks. Silently, I drew the Samurai sword out of its sheath. I set the sheath on the counter, then carried my new weapon toward the rear of the store.

  Halting in the darkness, I listened for Casey.

  What’s taking her so long?

  I stood motionless and barely breathed.

  Sounds seemed to be coming from all around me. Quiet sounds. The ticking of clocks. The soft hums, perhaps, of various electrical appliances. Along with barely perceptible sounds I couldn’t recognize - perhaps old things slowly drying up, coming apart a little bit at a time: threads of old coats popping, book paste cracking, maybe the stuffed head of the deer decomposing ever so slightly, the shop itself creaking as its boards aged and loosened.

  For the first time, I noticed the aroma of the place. It smelled of old clothes and older books. And stale cigarette smoke. And pine-scented floor wax and dust. I caught whiffs of cloying sweetness, too. Underlying all the other odors seemed to be a sour fragrance of sweat and urine.

  I should sneak upstairs and find Casey, I thought.

  No. I can’t go back on my word.

  What if Randy got her?

  I could at least look for the stairway. That wouldn’t be breaking my promise, would it?

  Holding the katana with both hands and upright in front of my shoulder - rather like a batter with my Louisville Slugger, relaxing a bit before the next pitch - I walked slowly toward the back of the shop.

  I was making my way through almost total darkness when someone touched my chest. It surprised me, but didn’t frighten me. I knew who it had to be. ‘Eddie,’ she whispered.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I found her. She’s upstairs.’

  ‘Is she okay?’

  ‘You’d better come up and see.’

  ‘She isn’t dead, is she?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What about Randy?’

  ‘I looked around the best I could without showing myself. If he’s up there, I didn’t see him. Maybe he’s gone. I don’t know.’ She patted my chest. ‘Come on, and bring the sword.’

  ‘You can see it?’

  ‘You’re backlit.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Can you hold it with one hand?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Then give me your other.’

  I gripped the sword with my right hand and reached out into the darkness with my left. Casey took hold of it. She gave it a squeeze. ‘Ready?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  She led me forward. We walked slowly through the darkness, taking a route with so many turns I quickly lost track of our direction.

  It’s like a maze in here, I thought.

  No wonder Casey had been gone so long.

  Though I held her hand in mine, I couldn’t see her in front of me.

  Why aren’t we crashing into things?

  She must have spectacular night vision, I thought. Probably comes from spending her nights sneaking around in people’s dark houses.

  Every so often, a floorboard creaked. Otherwise, we moved in complete silence.

  ‘Stairs,’ she whispered.

  We began to climb a steep, narrow stairway. It had a banister on the right side. I couldn’t hold on to the banister, but my hip kept bumping against it Sometimes, my left shoulder nudged the other side of the staircase. We were surrounded by utter silence, utter darkness. The air itself seemed heavy and hot and black.

  At a landing, we turned a corner and light appeared above us. A murky, shimmering, ruddy glow in the shape of a rectangle - a doorway?

  Casey blocked much of the glow as she climbed toward it. Near the top, she released my hand Crouching lower and lower, she climbed the final stairs. Then she crept through the doorway, crawled to the left and stopped when only her bare feet were still in sight.

  I moved up silently. Squatting, I looked through the doorway.

  The staircase apparently opened into the comer nook of a room. I could see little more than three poorly lit walls and Casey, on her hands and knees, peering around the comer.

  I set the sword down silently on the floor between us, then crawled forward, staying so close to Casey that I brushed against her side.

  Just when I realized her head might be in the way of my view, she eased herself down flat against the floor.

  I peered around the comer.

  The only light seemed to come from burning candles. I could see plenty of them, but had no doubt there must be others out of sight. They filled the room with a golden, trembling glow, shadows that shifted and writhed, and scattered swaths of darkness.

  Even in good light, I probably couldn’t have seen much of the room; the clutter got in the way. It was like looking into a dense forest of statues, chairs, coat racks, tables, mirrors, figurines, lamps, chests of drawers, storage cartons, vases, mannequins and a thousand other things.

  Someone, however, had cleared a wide pathway through the junk.

  The pathway led straight to Eileen.

  She stood near the middle of the room, about twenty feet in front of us, facing our way, naked, surrounded by a couple of dozen burning candles. Her arms were stretched out to either side, elevated slightly higher than her shoulders and secured by handcuffs to a couple of thick upright posts that were just beyond her reach. She was neither blindfo
lded nor gagged. Her feet weren’t tied at all. She stood on them. Though her head was drooping so she couldn’t see us for the moment, she seemed to be conscious, standing upright rather than hanging by her wrists.

  Her wet skin gleamed in the candlelight. Most of her scrapes and scratches and bruises looked like those she’d sustained Wednesday night when we were attacked under the bridge. I saw no fresh blood, but she had ruddy areas on her breasts and belly and thighs that looked recent. . ‘Eileen?’ I called.

  As Eileen raised her head, Casey squirmed backward to get out of sight.

  ‘It’s me,’ I said.

  Eileen started to weep.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I asked. Dumb question.

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘I... I don’t know.’

  ‘Is he up here somewhere?’

  ‘I think so. I’m not sure. I think he’s ... hiding someplace.’

  ‘You bet I am, pal.’ Randy’s voice came from somewhere deep in the room, somewhere in the region near Eileen.

  Chapter Sixty-eight

  ‘I’m glad you found us,’ he said. ‘I was hoping you would. It took you a while, though. I’m afraid we had to go ahead and start without you.’

  ‘What do you want?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ve already got half of what I want. The other half’s you.’

  ‘Okay, I’m here.’

  ‘Did you come alone?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  I glimpsed a flick of movement. Crying out, Eileen flinched and twisted and jerked her knee up, losing her balance. She would’ve fallen if not for the handcuffs securing her to the posts. As she stood there on one foot, I saw she had a dart in her leg. A small, feathered dart - the sort they use in pubs - was sticking out from the side of her left thigh.

  ‘Hey!’ I yelled.

  ‘You told me a fib. You’re quite the liar, Ed. I learned, among other things, that your lady friend’s name is not Sarah LaFarge. Is it, dear?’

  ‘No,’ Eileen said, her voice high and trembly. A thin line of blood was now dribbling down her leg from the dart wound.

  ‘And she does indeed put out for you. She puts out for me, too. Don’t you, Eileen?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And now, Ed, you’re telling me that you came here alone when I happen to know otherwise. Tell me about your friends.’

  Friends. Plural. It wasn’t simply that he’d spotted Casey when she came up to scout around. He must’ve seen us arrive in the car.

  ‘Casey and Kirkus,’ I said.

  ‘Which one’s the fag?’

  ‘Kirkus.’

  ‘That would make the other one Casey. Looked like a real honey, what I saw of her.’

  Casey, still by my side but farther back than before, pushed herself silently to her hands and knees.

  ‘I’d like to see the rest of her. I wanta see the fag, too. Fact is, how about all three of you stepping out where I can get a good look at you?’

  ‘They aren’t here.’

  Another dart flew out of the shadows and hit Eileen. This one stuck in her ribcage just below her left breast. She flinched and squealed and went up on her tiptoes, twisting, jerking at the cuffs.

  ‘Stop that!’ I yelled.

  ‘You lied.’

  ‘I did not! Kirkus ... he didn’t come in with us. He was scared. I don’t know where he went, but he stayed outside.’

  ‘And what about Casey?’

  ‘She’s downstairs. She never came up. She’s my lookout. She’s supposed to warn me if anyone shows up. Cops or something.’

  No more darts flew out at Eileen. Not for the moment, anyway.

  ‘You’d better be telling the truth,’ Randy said.

  From the direction of his voice and the darts, he was apparently somewhere to Eileen’s left and slightly in front of her. So much junk stood between us, however, that I couldn’t see him. Nor did I stand any chance of reaching him quickly.

  ‘I’m telling the truth,’ I said.

  ‘You’d better be.’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘If there are any untoward developments ... the unexpected arrival of your fairy friend, for instance ... or the cops ... Eileen’s situation will deteriorate rapidly. Do you see how I have her cuffed?’

  Two sets of handcuffs. One bracelet of each encircled each of Eileen’s wrists. At the end of their short chains, the other two bracelets were fastened to thick steel rings that seemed to be bolted into the posts on each side of Eileen, slightly higher than her head.

  ‘Setting her free won’t be fast and easy, will it?’

  He was right about that. I answered, ‘No.’

  ‘And do you see the candles surrounding her?’

  The candles that I could see formed a rough circle around her feet. They were close enough that she could kick them over if she tried ... or by accident. Each slender candle, standing by itself in a small holder, was eight to ten inches tall.

  ‘I see them,’ I said.

  ‘Easily tipped over, don’t you think?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Now note what I’ve put under them.’

  Spread out beneath the candle holders—and Eileen’s feet—was what looked like an old-fashioned patchwork quilt.

  ‘A quilt,’ I said.

  ‘Yes it is, Ed. And I took the trouble of dousing the quilt with lamp oil.’

  ‘Lamp oil?’

  ‘An odorless petroleum product. We sell it in the shop to go with various kerosene lamps. It’s highly flammable. If just one candle should happen to fall over ... whoof! Poor Eileen.’

  ‘You’re up here, too,’ I said. ‘I’m between you and the stairs.’

  ‘I have other ways out, stupid. Eileen, however ... she’ll have only one way out if a fire starts ... up in smoke!’ As if surprised by his own wit, he laughed. Then he muttered, ‘Good one.’

  In my mind, I saw flames erupting around Eileen. I saw a sudden look of horror in her eyes. I watched her writhe in agony and struggle against the handcuffs. I heard her screams. I saw her hair catch fire. I watched her skin blister and crack, heard it sizzle.

  ‘Just tell me what you want,’ I said. ‘Okay? Just tell me, and I’ll do it.’

  ‘First, no surprises. Complete cooperation from you and your friends.’

  ‘I don’t know where Kirkus is.’

  ‘Just so he doesn’t interfere.’

  ‘If he tries to interfere,’ I said, ‘I’ll take care of him. Just don’t go starting any fires, okay?’

  ‘We’ll see. Now, you told me that the girl is keeping lookout downstairs. Casey?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Go down and get her. Bring her up here.’

  ‘What for?’

  Another dart hit Eileen. The point of this one sank into the side of her left breast. She cried out, ‘Ah!’ and thrashed with the sudden pain, her breasts swinging and leaping. The rough motion only went on for a few seconds. When she settled down, the dart was still in her breast but it dangled as if almost ready to let go.

  Sounding patient and slightly amused, Randy said, ‘Go downstairs and get Casey. Bring her up here. We’ll be waiting. Won’t we, Eileen?’

  Sobbing, Eileen blurted out, ‘Yes.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I’ll do it. Might take a few minutes.’

  ‘Remember, no surprises.’

  ‘I know.’ I crawled backward.

  Casey, already on her feet, pulled my arm and helped me stand up. As I turned toward her, she touched a finger to her lips. Then she moved ahead of me through the doorway. I followed her..

  Making no sound that I could hear, she vanished down the dark stairs. I went down after her, one hand on the railing.

  At the bottom, I felt a tug on the front of my shirt. Casey pulled me along behind her on a twisting route toward the front of the store. When we reached the glow from the display-window lights, she stopped and faced me.

  ‘What was he doing to her?’ she asked.

 
Staying out of sight, Casey hadn’t been able to watch.

  ‘He threw darts at her. He got her three times.’

  ‘Oooo.’

  ‘Maybe you’d better get out of here,’ I said.

  She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. I stroked her hair. It was damp, and so was the nape of her neck. ‘I don’t think so,’ she whispered.

  ‘I can’t have you getting hurt.’

  ‘Eileen’s up there because of us,’ she whispered.

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ I said.

  ‘Sure it is. You weren’t with her tonight because of me. Anyway, it doesn’t matter whose fault anything is. What matters is, we have to save her.’

  ‘I don’t know how.’

  ‘A good fire extinguisher might help. There must be one. They’re required, a place like this.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m the house inspector, remember?’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’

  ‘Store inspector, too. You can’t have a store without a fire extinguisher.’

  ‘I don’t know how we’d find it in time,’ I said. ‘And there might not be one, anyway. Even if this place had one, I don’t think Randy did all this on the spur of the moment tonight after he grabbed Eileen. He probably got most of it ready in advance. And I bet he didn’t leave any fire extinguishers lying around.’

  ‘Maybe he took one up with him,’ Casey said, ‘just in case.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  She let go of me and stepped away. ‘We’d better get back up there.’

  ‘Not you.’

  ‘Yes, me.’

  ‘Casey...’

  ‘Don’t worry.’

  ‘Don’t worry?’

  ‘I can take care of myself.’

  ‘Famous last words.’

  ‘Been doing it for eighteen years and I’m still here. Still hail and hearty - mostly.’

  ‘Jesus, Casey.’

  ‘Let’s go.’

  I reached out to grab her, but my hand found empty darkness. I tried to go after her, but bumped into something that fell with a clatter. When that happened, I remembered the flashlight in my pocket. I pulled it out, twisted its front, and a narrow beam of brightness reached out.

  I couldn’t find Casey with it, though.

  Chapter Sixty-nine