The Loveliest Dead

by Ray Garton

  Miles kicked his legs and flailed his arms. His pajama top tore away from him with a sharp ripping sound, and a section of it dangled from David’s fist. As he struggled to get off the bed, Miles knocked over his bedstand, and the small lamp and flying-saucer clock went with it. David hooked his right arm around Miles’s torso and growled, “Fuckin’ puppy.” As he pulled Miles back onto the bed, he raised his left arm, bent at the elbow in the sling, out at his side for balance.

  Jenna turned to the desk and took a fat hardcover dictionary from the desktop. Hefting the book in both hands, she raised it over her head. She threw herself forward as she brought the dictionary down hard on David’s bandaged left hand.

  David’s scream was high and shrill with agony. He fell off the bed and landed on his back on the floor as his scream collapsed into a growl, then a groan. Then a sickened retch.

  The overhead light went out with a pop and sparks rained down in the darkness. The temperature dropped suddenly, and Jenna knew something was in the room with them—the thing that had, a moment before, been inside David. Whatever doubts she’d had were wiped out with the certainty that something had commandeered David’s body.

  Miles sobbed as Jenna found him in the dark and took him in her arms.

  After the explosion of pain, Lily rises up until she is looking down on the Kellars—Jenna on the bed, still holding the book, Miles curled into a ball against the headboard, and David sprawled on the floor.

  As the light goes out, Lily begins to sink, lower and lower, until she passes down through the floor into corrupt and filthy darkness and—

  Lying facedown on the motel room carpet, Lily opened her eyes. Pain hammered behind her eyes and her stomach was upside-down, but a surge of adrenaline made her roll onto her side and get to her knees. She crawled to the bed, climbed up, and sat on it. “What time is it? How long was I out?”

  “Longer than usual,” Claudia said. Her voice was shaky and she was pale. “It’s one twenty-four. For crying out loud, Lily, I can’t take that. I almost called an ambulance. The only reason I didn’t was that you kept talking.”

  “I did?”

  “Yeah. You kept saying, ‘Real time, real time.’“

  Lily nodded once, the heels of her hands placed over her eyes. “That’s what it was. I realized it when I saw the clock in the boy’s bedroom. It was a real-time vision.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was seeing something as it happened. Something in the Kellar house. And I was seeing it through David Kellar’s eyes. Except... it wasn’t David Kellar.” Lily stretched out on the bed and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes.

  Claudia said, “What do you mean?”

  “I was seeing through David Kellar’s eyes, but I was ... I was in something—no, someone else. There was someone else inside David Kellar. The fat man with the cowboy hat—I was inside him, and he was inside David Kellar. Does that make sense?”

  “You’re saying David Kellar was ... possessed?”

  “You could put it that way. I was feeling horrible, sick things. But it wasn’t David Kellar who was feeling them, it was the fat man with the cowboy hat.”

  Eyes narrowing, Claudia said, “Who’s the fat man with the cowboy hat?”

  “Someone who wants Miles Kellar very much.” She released a long sigh and said, “We’ve got to get the Kellars out of that house, especially the boy. And we don’t have much time.”

  Jenna’s arms trembled in the dark as she held Miles, who clung to her as if for life. But he had stopped crying— he seemed to be listening for something. David retched on the floor beside the bed.

  From downstairs, Martha shouted, “What’s wrong?”

  Jenna shouted back, “We’re okay, Mom. I’ll be down in a minute.” Then, to Miles: “You’re okay, right, honey?”

  He nodded and slowly loosened his hold on her, cautiously pulled away.

  Jenna’s eyes adjusted to the darkness and she saw Miles look around the room. The mattress shifted as David leaned his right arm on it and pulled himself up.

  Miles made a small, frightened sound in his throat and pulled Jenna with him as he backed away from his dad.

  David’s voice was a dry croak. “I’m so sorry. I... it wasn’t... I didn’t—”

  “It wasn’t you, David,” Jenna said. She turned to Miles. “That wasn’t your dad, honey. There is something in this house, some kind of ... presence. And it was inside your dad. Do you understand? It made him do that.” To David: “It wasn’t you, David. When it came out of you, the light blew out and the temperature dropped in the room, just like it did in the living room with Ada and with Dwayne Shattuck.”

  “The fat man,” Miles said.

  Jenna nodded. “Yes, the fat man. Honey, I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you. I’ve seen the fat man, too.”

  Miles’s eyes widened for a moment, but he said nothing.

  David slowly got to his feet and closed his robe. Jenna could tell by his posture, straight but weary, that he was himself again. “Did you hear me, David? Do you understand what I’m saying? That wasn’t you.”

  David’s head drooped as he nodded. “Yes. You’re right, Miles, it was the fat man. He wears a cowboy hat, right?”

  “Is that what’s on his head?” Miles said. “I couldn’t tell what it was in the dark.”

  Jenna pulled Miles to her and embraced him again. “You haven’t been dreaming. I don’t know exactly what he is, but he’s real. I’m so sorry we didn’t believe you when you told us it wasn’t just a nightmare.”

  “That’s okay,” Miles said. “I guess if somebody told me a fat man was coming up through the bedroom floor, I probably wouldn’t believe it, either.”

  Jenna kissed his forehead, stood, and faced David. “What are we going to do?”

  “We’re going to turn on every damned light in this house.” He looked down at Miles and said, “Hey, Tiger, how would you like to stay up all night and watch TV?”

  They went downstairs to the living room and turned on lights along the way.

  David got the fire going again as Miles opened his sleeping bag on the floor in front of the television. He curled up in the bag to watch an old Tarzan movie. Martha sat on the couch and sipped a cup of tea.

  Jenna and David sat together in the breakfast nook, where, for about fifteen minutes, David sobbed as she held him.

  “Maybe the Binghams can help us,” Jenna said once he had calmed down.

  David slowly turned his head from side to side. “Maybe they can, but... nobody will ever be able to erase what happened tonight. Jenna, it was ... it was like having a nightmare while I was half awake. The things that went through my mind ... the horrible, sick thoughts and feelings—”

  “They weren’t your thoughts and feelings. You weren’t in control, David. But you had enough presence of mind to ask me for help.”

  He turned to her with red-rimmed eyes. “You heard me?”

  “Yes. It came through, I heard you.”

  He nodded slowly as he turned away. He told her about his experiences in the house—things that he’d thought, until then, were nothing more than dreams. “These things in my head, these images,” he said, “I don’t know where they came from. They’re ... sick.”

  “That’s what Dwayne said—whatever is in this house, it’s sick.”

  “What makes you think these people can help? What’s their name again?”

  “The Binghams.” She got up, went around the table, and sat down in Martha’s spot. She found the copy of the Inquisitor with the article about the Binghams in it. She opened the paper to the article and slid it across the table to David. “The Inquisitor covers most of their investigations, according to Mom. She’s been reading about them for years. She’s read some of their books, too.”

  “I didn’t know your mom believed in this crap,” he said as he skimmed the article.

  “I was surprised, too.”

  David looked at her with puffy, red-rimmed eyes. “They
sound religious.”

  “They are. They’re Catholic.”

  “I don’t know if I like the idea of a couple religious fanatics coming into the house and spouting their mumbo jumbo.”

  “I’m not crazy about it either, honey,” Jenna said. She reached across the table and put her hand on his. “But what else are we going to do? Do you have any ideas? At least they have experience with this sort of thing. It’s like with the wiring—we’ve got to bring in someone who knows what they’re doing.”

  Looking weary and troubled, he nodded. “I guess we don’t have much choice.”

  Jenna made a pot of coffee and they took their cups to the living room. They said little as they sat in the warmth of the fire with the television on, along with every light in the house.

  The Binghams, Jenna thought, could not arrive soon enough.

  Chief Oscar Winningham of the Eureka Police Department stood when the desk sergeant escorted them into his office. He was a bearish man in his late fifties, with a voice so deep and booming that Lily could feel it in her chest when he spoke. She felt it behind her eyes, too, where a dull pain steadily throbbed.

  Winningham’s office was not large, but it was neat— except for his desk, which was cluttered with papers, manila folders and envelopes, a few books. Behind it on an old scuffed credenza was a cluster of framed photographs arranged around a few tall awards from community organizations. A stuffed marlin at least four feet long was mounted on the wall above the credenza and dominated the room.

  Lily and Claudia sat in front of Winningham’s desk in a couple of metal-framed chairs with dark green vinyl-upholstered seat- and back-cushions.

  Winningham’s dark hair was cut short and streaked with white. Bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows rested on the top edge of his wire-framed glasses like exotic caterpillars napping. His nose was bulbous, and when he smiled, his twinkling green eyes nearly disappeared into slits bracketed by crow’s-feet. He wore khaki pants and a long-sleeved blue-and-yellow plaid shirt that-strained slightly against his barrel-like torso. He lowered himself into his squeaky chair behind the desk and leaned forward toward Lily and Claudia.

  “Lily Rourke,” he said. “How about that. You’re lucky you caught me. I was just on my way out to go fishing. I came in to do a couple things, but didn’t plan on staying. In fact, I’m running a little late, but that’s okay.” He did not stop smiling as he put his forearms on the desk and joined his large hands together. “Would either of you like some coffee?”

  “No, thank you,” Claudia said.

  They’d gone to Denny’s again for breakfast and Lily had ordered a bowl of cream of wheat, which she’d hardly touched. She could use some coffee because she’d slept very little the night before, but she still felt mildly nauseated. “Nothing for me, thanks,” she said. “I’ll try to keep this short.”

  “Don’t worry about the time,” Winningham said. “It’s my boat, so nobody’s going anywhere till I get there. What can I do for you? What brings you to Eureka?”

  “I’m here to help a family that may be in some trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “I’m not sure yet—that’s the problem. I’m afraid I can’t give you any kind of explanation other than I... well, I know this family is in trouble. And I think it has something to do with the house they live in. More specifically, with the person who lived there before them.”

  Half his smile fell away and the exotic caterpillars sleeping on the top rim of his glasses suddenly rushed together and almost collided above his nose. “If these people are in any kind of danger, you need to tell me so I can—”

  “No, it’s not a police matter. Not yet, anyway.”

  “Could you give me some idea of what you’re talking about?”

  Lily hesitated a moment. “You said you’ve heard of me?”

  He smiled again. “Most of the cops I know have heard of you. The ones in California, anyway. You may not take any public credit for what you do, but cops talk.”

  “I’m glad. That means I don’t have to explain myself. Sometimes that’s difficult. I think the problem this family is dealing with is supernatural.”

  “Supernatural.”

  “Yes.”

  “Is this about the ghost that beat up the medium the other day?”

  “It’s connected, yes. I hope this doesn’t change your mind about talking to me.”

  “No, no. You’re the expert. But as long as no laws are being broken and nobody’s in trouble, then why come to me?”

  “I need to learn as much as I can about the man who lived in the house prior to this family.”

  Winningham’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a second. That would be—”

  “Leonard Baines. He lived on—”

  “Lenny Baines on Starfish Drive?” Winningham said.

  “Leonard Baines is all I have. It’s possible that he went by Lenny.”

  The chair squeaked as Winningham sat back. “That story about the ghost that beat up the trucker who talks to dead people—that took place in Lenny’s old house. I understand his daughter inherited it.”

  “That’s right. So you’re familiar with Leonard Baines?”

  “Everybody here knew Lenny.”

  Lily nodded. “I thought that might be the case. What kind of trouble was he in?”

  “Trouble? Lenny was never in any trouble. He was a little goofy, I guess, and he liked to drink, but he never got into trouble. It was terrible what happened last year, Lenny taking his own life. A lot of people were real sad about that. But there was no funeral. That’s the way Lenny wanted it. No funeral, no memorial, he just wanted to be cremated and his remains disposed of. Good ol’ Lenny Baines. Are you sure we’re talking about the same person?” He leaned forward again, no longer smiling.

  “If he lived at 2204 Starfish Drive, then yes. Tell me about him.”

  “Lenny was always helping us out with charitable activities.”

  “Us?” Lily said.

  “Yeah, the department, Eureka PD. He worked hard on the toy drive every Christmas. He played Santa Claus after our regular Santa, Hank Darby, died of a heart attack. And every spring, Lenny put on an Easter egg hunt for a group of handicapped kids. For a few years in a row, he threw the department’s summer barbecue for underprivileged kids in his backyard. He set up a slide and swing for the kids. No, Lenny was never in any trouble. Just the opposite. Everybody who knew Lenny liked him. His parents were good folks, too.”

  “When did all that stop?” Lily asked.

  Winningham looked at her a moment wearing a slight smile, impressed that she knew it had stopped. “About nine, ten years ago. It stopped a little at a time. First he quit opening his place up to the kids. Then he pulled out of the toy drive one Christmas. In a couple years, he’d stopped doing everything, and suddenly we realized we hadn’t seen Lenny around in months. Months became a year, two years, three. Somebody dropped in on him one day. He was drunk and cranky and alone, and that’s exactly what he wanted. So we left him alone. He was never any trouble. As much as he drank, he was never once charged with DWI, didn’t even get any speeding tickets. None within the city limits, anyway.”

  “These charity events—” Lily’s voice broke, and she stopped, cleared her throat. “They always involved children?”

  Winningham’s eyes narrowed, and he cocked his head. “If you’re suggesting something, Miss Rourke, I wish you’d come right out and say it.”

  Lily felt Winningham’s defensiveness and decided to say no more about Leonard Baines for the moment. “No. I’m not suggesting anything. But I do need to ask about children. Have there been an inordinate number of children disappearing in this area?”

  “What exactly are you getting at?”

  “Chief Winningham, if I knew what I was getting at, I’d get at it. I’m trying to piece together some images I’ve been seeing, images I don’t completely understand. They involve children. Young boys.”

  “Images? You mean ... visions?”
/>
  “Yes, visions.”

  Winningham thought about it a moment, shook his head. “No, I can’t say we’ve had any more children disappear around here than in any other town this size. It happens, but there hasn’t been an increase in the years I’ve been in this department, and I’ve been here forever, it seems. Coming up on thirty-one years.”

  Lily picked up her purse from the floor and put it on her lap. She removed a pen and a small pad, and wrote down two names: Billy Enders and Jonah Wishman. She tore the page out and handed it across the desk and said, “These are the names of two young boys. I think they might have been from around here.”

  Winningham frowned at the names. “They don’t ring a bell, but I’ll have Merry run a search on them.”

  “Could you do that right away?” Lily said. “I’m sorry if I’m imposing, but it’s very important. I think time is a factor in this.”

  “Merry’s not in right now, but she’ll be back around noon. Leave a number where one of us can reach you.”

  “I appreciate that, Chief.”

  He said, “I’m still very curious as to why you’re asking about Lenny Baines.”

  “You knew him well?” Lily asked.

  “Took him out on the boat fishing a few times. Mostly I saw him when he got involved in some department charity. I can’t say I knew him well, but I knew him.”

  “Can you tell me what he looked like?”

  “Lenny? Oh, he was a big guy, got pretty fat in his later years, even fatter than me.” He turned to the credenza behind his desk. His hand moved in a circle in the air above the framed photographs a few times, then dove like a bird of prey and plucked a single picture out of the group. “This is from one of the Christmas parties.” He handed the silver-framed photograph across the desk to Lily.