A couch flanked the right side of the living room and there was an easy chair beside it, in the far right corner. The entertainment center sat opposite the sofa, and beyond the living room the dining room and kitchen lay in darkness. She could make out the odor of rotting food and garbage, the lumps of trash that were stacked up on the kitchen counter and the dining room table amid piles of clothes. The brightness of the house that had been evident when Ronnie and Diana first moved in—the decorative furnishings, the toys that lay in the living room, the pictures—the house was devoid of life and essence. There was no longer any sense of warmth or personality in the house. Elizabeth had been in homes that were hardly cleaned, that were perpetually sloppy due to laziness or lack of time for proper house cleaning, but there had always been a ray of life within those dwellings. Ronnie and Diana’s house was devoid of such life. Elizabeth gritted her teeth, disgusted by how fast the house had gone downhill and the sloppy living conditions they had allowed the children to live in, and then she saw Ronnie.
Ronnie lay slumped on the sofa and it was hard to get a good look at him in the dark. His body odor hit her the moment she crossed the threshold and she blanched. “Ronnie,” she whispered, bearing the stench and striding forward. He was slumped on the sofa, and at first she thought he was wearing white sweat pants and a white long-sleeved t-shirt stained with colored splotches; that’s how pale his skin was, and with the tattoos it only made the whiteness of his skin stand out more. When she got a closer look and her eyes adjusted to the darkness, her heart lodged in her throat and she almost screamed.
Ronnie lay naked on the sofa, breathing fast and heavy. His eyes were riveted on the ceiling. While yesterday he had looked even more cadaverous than he had at Cindy’s wake, seeing him nude only reinforced that. He had shrunk to a shriveled wraith-like thing. His hair had started to fall out, revealing bits of mottled scalp. His skin had become baggy, grown wrinkled where the fat and muscle had shrunk. His cheekbones and chin were more pronounced, his eyes sunken, haunted. His arms and legs were sticks covered with folds of cracked skin; his stomach had grown slightly sunken in, his ribcage had become very prominent, his hands brittle sticks.
And they were moving.
At first Elizabeth couldn’t get her mind around it. She had been on the verge of telling him she was calling 911, he had to get into a hospital, and then she had been distracted by the fluid rhythmic motion his right hand was making over his groin and his frenzied breathing. Drool ran down his chin and his voice undulating in his raspy breathing. It wasn’t until she realized with shocking clarity what he was doing that she pieced together what he was saying.
“I just need her, I need Diana, I need her to come home, I need her, I need her, I need her, I need to fuck her, I need to fuck her, I just have to fuck her now, now, now, now, NOW!”
Ronnie was masturbating.
She turned away in shock and embarrassment, but not before getting a brief glimpse of his withered stalk of a penis, red, raw and bloody from overuse. Despite Ronnie’s obvious deterioration, he was fully erect.
Elizabeth forced herself to stay calm despite the rising sickness she felt. “Ronnie, you need help.”
“I just need Diana to come home,” Ronnie said, between gasps. “Where is she, why isn’t she here?”
“Ronnie,” Elizabeth said, not knowing what to do. She was confused, scared for her brother, afraid for Mary and at a loss. “Ronnie, I’m here to help you. Gregg and the kids are here, we’re going to take you to the hospital, you’ll be okay, you’ll—”
Ronnie shook his head, still stroking himself. “I just need Diana, I need Diana I need Diana...”
He repeated this litany and Elizabeth realized her brother had gone off the deep end. Whether drugs had caused his mind to snap or what, he was beyond help, beyond having any sense talked into him. Swallowing her pride and the disgust she felt, she was about to reach down and attempt to scoop him out of the couch when she felt the presence of something watching her from the master bedroom.
Himmler’s red eyes glowered and Elizabeth felt her heart leap in her chest. She had no idea how long the animal had been watching her, but it almost seemed the creature knew what she was doing and disapproved. For a moment she remained frozen, poised over the sofa and her brother, the massive canine hidden in shadows, and then she felt the paralysis slowly leave. Himmler wouldn’t attack if she just backed up right now and got the hell out of the house. That was the ticket. If she left the house, she would be allowed to leave, but if she tried to help Ronnie, tried to get him off of the sofa, she knew the dog would lunge at her and she would never make it out of this house alive.
Himmler growled and took a step forward. She heard something squishy, as if it was slithering forward. Another odor erupted, something rotten and foul.
And Elizabeth knew now, despite all her attempts at rationalizing everything that had happened thus far, the creature she thought was Himmler, what she thought was a normal rottweiler, was not a dog at all, but some unnatural creature.
Her temporary paralysis broke and she bolted for the door. She flew through it, not knowing if Himmler was on her tail, not hearing Ronnie as he continued to beat off and chant that he just had to fuck Diana, and she was down the steps and running down the walkway and across the front lawn, throwing open the door to the car and diving into the front seat and she screamed “Drive! Get the hell out of here, just go!” and Gregg started the car and threw it into drive, peeling away from Ronnie’s house and she wasn’t aware of the kids in the back screaming and crying, wasn’t aware of Gregg’s panicked voice as he kept asking her “What happened? Is he all right? Did he hurt you? What happened?” She wasn’t aware of any of this until later; the first thing she became aware of was her own crying which brought her to the stark reality of what they were now facing.
SEVENTEEN
SHE TOLD GREGG what she saw as he drove out of the development toward 222. Mary was crying and Elizabeth wished she didn’t have to hear this, but it was all coming out of her, she had to tell Gregg, had to convey to him the horror of what she had seen in that house. He had to know how bad the situation had gotten. “We’ve gotta call the police,” he said.
Elizabeth was furious. “I can’t believe that bitch let it go this far,” she said.
“Who said she let anything go that far,” Gregg said, his eyes on the road. “For all we know, she encouraged it.”
Elizabeth pulled out the cell phone and took a deep breath. In the backseat, Mary and Eric were crying. Elizabeth turned around, her composure under control. “Mary honey, everything’s going to be okay. I’m going to call the police and have them send an ambulance for your daddy, okay?”
If Mary heard her she gave no indication. She cried as Eric held her.
Elizabeth was just about to call 911 when she thought about Diana and her mother. “We can’t release Mary into Diana’s custody,” she said.
“So what are we gonna do?”
“I’m going to call 911, but no way in fucking hell is Mary going back to that house,” Elizabeth said. She dialed 911, and when the operator came on Elizabeth said, “I just left my brother’s house on 232 Severn Lane in Reinholds. He needs an ambulance. He’s had a nervous breakdown and I think he’s going through a psychotic drug episode.”
The 911 operator asked for her name and Elizabeth gave it to her. When she was finished making the call she hung up and leaned back in the seat, eyes closed, hoping the authorities made it to the house before mom and Diana did.
WHEN THEY PULLED up to the house Laura Baker was grateful to see her son’s SUV parked in the driveway. Diana cursed under her breath and turned off the ignition. “I’ll be right back,” she said, and in one fluid motion was out of the car and heading toward the front door.
Which was wide open.
Laura was about to get out and follow Diana to the house, but something made her stop.
Something was watching her.
Laura remained in the front s
eat of Diana’s Chrysler, frozen, afraid to come out. On the drive to Elizabeth and Gregg’s house Diana had ranted and raved about what a bitch Elizabeth was, about what a brat Mary had been lately, how Ronnie was going to ground her for the next six months when she got home, and Laura had nodded silently, agreeing with her. But at the same time a small voice inside of was been appalled at how Diana had blatantly slammed her granddaughter and daughter in front of her, and another part of her was disgusted with herself for not raising her voice in protest. Something had kept her from doing this, though. It was some force that kept her silent and meek, that kept her in her place. And as she sat there, she’d felt ashamed for allowing herself to be manipulated like this, and she’d felt that something had silently approved her silence.
Laura watched as Diana went into the house and shut the door. Laura stared at the front of the house, noticing the barren lawn, how drab and dingy the house had become in the last few months. And as she noticed this she wondered why she hadn’t paid attention to it before.
It was like an awakening. She had been spending so much time and effort trying to like Diana and her kids, trying to get Jerry to accept them, trying to get Elizabeth to give her a chance, she supposed she had gone overboard a bit too much. She’d spent so much time trying to see the good in Diana that she had refused to see the negative.
Now the negative was staring her straight in the face.
Elizabeth and Gregg hadn’t been at their house when they’d pulled up. Laura had followed Diana to the front door, had tried to take command of the situation when they arrived, and told her she would do the talking, but Diana was having none of it. When it was clear nobody was home they had gone back to the car, but instead of heading back to Laura’s house they had come straight to Ronnie and Diana’s.
Diana had been silent on the drive to the house.
Laura observed her on the drive and she noticed with rising alarm that she was looking at a different person. It was Diana Marshfield, the woman her son had brought home eight months ago, the woman whom he had fallen in love with on the Internet and had moved out from Ohio to start a new life. Physically, it was her.
But something inside her was wearing a costume, a mask with Diana’s face and body on it.
And that something was ugly and foul, and although Laura couldn’t actually see it, she could sense it.
And the thing had burned with a blinding hatred and rage over Mary’s disappearance.
This is too much, Laura thought. I’m letting my imagination get to me. I’m letting Elizabeth’s feelings influence me too much. Diana is not...she’s not as bad as she’s been made out to be. She really isn’t!
Laura waited in the car, wondering now if her judgment and opinion on Diana had been wrong all along. She had tried to accept Diana and her kids as part of the family, had tried not to show favoritism between her own grandchildren and Diana’s children because she didn’t want them to feel they were left out. She’d wanted Diana to feel at home and welcome. And as her mind quickly retraced the last five months Diana and her kids had lived with Ronnie, she noticed some disturbing trends that hadn’t been evident to her until now.
There was the extreme work hours Ronnie was putting himself through. Laura realized with alarming clarity that this was unlike Ronnie, who in the past had avoided overtime as much as possible. Ronnie had never been much of a worker anyway, and would take every opportunity to call in sick or take a vacation. He’d gone through so many jobs in the past twenty years she’d lost count, and when he was married to Cindy he’d never put himself through this much work. True, he’d gotten a little more serious about work when Mary was born, but he never worked overtime like this, even when Cindy wasn’t working. Ronnie didn’t have to work this much overtime even with the added expense of a mortgage and two additional kids to pay for.
The reason she felt he had to work so much overtime was because of all the expensive gifts he showered on Diana. She’d come across credit card receipts in the room he shared with Mary when they were still living at the house—one for eight thousand dollars for a matching gold bracelet and necklace studded with fourteen-karat diamonds, the other for a two thousand dollar custom engagement ring. Since then, Lucy had seen Diana bearing more gifts from Ronnie; designer clothes, new furniture for the house, new electronic gadgets. And it was still going on as far as she could tell. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was over twenty-five grand in debt because of her.
Then there was the matter of Mary being out of control lately. Normally Mary was a very amiable child, but in the past two months she had been not only sullen and withdrawn, she’d been rebellious. Diana had related the arguments they’d had. She just didn’t understand why her father had to work so much, so she took it out on Diana and Lily. And then there was the matter of that episode the weekend of Cindy’s death and—
Laura frowned, remembering that weekend. It had been unlike Mary to have such vivid, horrible nightmares. Until just a few minutes ago she believed Mary had made the episode up as some sort of psychological rebellion against what was going on at home, but the more Laura thought about it, the more she was beginning to believe that perhaps there was some truth to the story.
Then there was the random weirdness that had gone on in the neighborhood in the weeks following Diana’s moving in. Himmler lunging at the neighbor boy; Dora Steele severing her husband’s penis; and then the final violent episode of Cindy meeting her untimely demise in the house on the very weekend Mary called, crying that she had seen a blob-like monster attached to her father like some sort of leech.
And as Laura remembered these incidents one thing stood out clearly: how Diana and her kids seemed to thrive on the growing violence and mayhem around them. How they seemed to be...more alive, more vital, more powerful.
When Ronnie had brought Diana and her kids to the house for the first time, Laura hadn’t thought much of her. She’d thought Diana was too skinny, with frizzy hair and not much of a personality. Her kids hadn’t been memorable either. They had slowly started to come around though, and as Laura retraced the events that had occurred in the neighborhood, she tried to pinpoint their gradual physical improvement: Ronnie started working the double-time and Diana’s hairstyle became nicer; the dog lunged at the Steele child, and the kids became less sullen; more overtime for Ronnie, and Diana’s thin frame began filling out; the Steele woman attacking her husband was followed by even more overtime from Ronnie and a complete reversal of demeanor for Diana. It had quickly accelerated from there, especially after Cindy’s death. In the past month Diana had taken center stage in the household. She was more vibrant, her hair now shimmered with life and bounce, her body now displayed a curvy, seductive figure. Laura had to admit, Diana was stunningly attractive now. The kids had become more outgoing, with Rick getting into after school sports and becoming more verbally abusive toward Ronnie, and Lily had become more bold and aggressive, following Mary around everywhere and not leaving her alone. It seemed that even though the house Ronnie had bought was in his name, Diana and her kids ruled the roost there.
I can’t believe I’m letting myself think this way, she thought, trying to rationalize it. But no, I’m not letting my imagination run away with me. I’m suddenly seeing things from an outsider’s perspective. No wonder Elizabeth’s been upset about what’s been happening. She’s been seeing it for what it is. Diana’s been taking advantage of Ronnie and Mary the entire time she and her children have been living here.
It reminded Laura of an old movie she had watched one afternoon with the kids in the late seventies. She remembered the name of the film—The Godsend. In the film, a couple who have been trying to have a child meet a young unwed pregnant woman. The woman is desperate; she had been kicked out of her home and had no place to live. The couple take the woman in and she gives birth to a healthy baby boy at their home and shortly after disappears, leaving the infant behind. The couple search for the woman to no avail, and eventually adopt the baby. The baby grows up and
the older he gets, the more bad luck falls on the couple until they realize the child is the cause of the bad luck. And the more unfortunate incidents occur, the stronger the child gets.
Laura didn’t remember how the couple managed to get away from the child’s malevolent influences, but she did remember the end of the film perfectly. They’re walking through a park and see a young couple talking with a pregnant woman. As they walk by they notice she’s the same woman whom the main characters took in. She catches their gaze, recognizing them, and smiles knowingly.
Laura didn’t know why she was suddenly reminded of this film, and she was trying to think of an explanation when she heard sirens approaching from within the development.
She looked in the rearview mirror as the sirens grew louder. She glanced at the house, wondering what was taking Diana so long and where Ronnie was. Then she saw the unmistakable red swirling lights of an emergency rescue vehicle turn down the street, siren turning off in mid whoop. A police car followed, and Laura wasn’t surprised when the vehicles stopped in front of Ronnie’s house.
Laura got out of the car, a feeling of dread spreading through her. A second police car approached from the other end and parked across the street. She looked toward the house and was relieved to see Diana come out, shutting the door behind her. She stepped off the porch and looked surprised as she saw the ambulance and police cars. She frowned as she approached the car. The EMTs began assembling their gear and Diana met them at the end of the driveway. “What’s going on?”
Laura approached Diana, wondering what this was about. A police officer approached Diana, who stood at the end of the driveway. “We got a 911 call that there was a man suffering a psychotic drug episode here,” he said.
“You’re kidding,” Diana said, looking confused. “There’s nothing wrong, everything’s fine.”
The Beloved Page 23