‘Am I allowed to go out that way?’
‘Anybody tries to stop you, tell ‘em Thompson says it’s okay.’
‘Okay. Thanks a lot’
He hurried past her, past the foot of the stairs, and into the hallway. With a glance back, he saw that she wasn’t following him. He was alone in the hallway. He quickened his pace and entered the kitchen.
Nobody in the kitchen, either.
My God, I don’t believe it!
Believe it, he thought.
He hurried through the kitchen, but not toward the back door—toward the open pantry.
He entered it. Before he could reach the stairs, however, he heard voices from below.
Of course, he thought. Obviously, I can’t be that lucky.
The cellar was at the end of the audio tour… the piece de resistance. Nobody actually following the audio tour should be here yet, but some had obviously ignored the tape and rushed on ahead.
Damn!
Starting down the stairs, Mark reminded himself that his plan had never included the idea that he would find the cellar deserted. He’d just figured, if one thing led to another and he ended up needing the cellar as a last resort, that he would find other people here and he would need to play it by ear.
It’s not exactly a last resort yet, he told himself.
But things happened and I’m here.
In the light from the dangling, bare bulb, Mark saw only four people in the cellar. A young man and woman were standing at the cordon, peering down at the hole in the dirt floor. Next to the woman stood a small girl, maybe four years old. The woman was holding her hand. Off to the side, a husky, bearded guy stood staring into the Kutch tunnel through the bars of the door.
The little girl didn’t have headphones on. She looked over her should at mark and said, ‘Hi.’
Mark smiled. ‘Hi.’
The mother frowned down at the girl. ‘Don’t bother the man, honey.’
‘It’s all right, he said.
The bearded guy turned around and said to Mark, ‘A shame they don’t open up the tunnel.’
‘Yeah,’ Mark said.
‘I’d love to see the tunnel.’
‘Me, too.’
‘And the Kutch house.’
‘Yeah. Same here.’
‘I mean, that’s where half the good stuff happened and we don’t even get to see it.’
‘Well, it’s still occupied.’
‘I know that,’ the man said, seeming a bit miffed that Mark doubted the breadth of his knowledge. ‘Maggie’s daughter. What I hear, she’s as deranged as her mother was. Five’ll get you ten she’s got a critter or two over there right now.’
‘Maybe,’ Mark said. He turned away from the man, approached the cordoned-off area around the hole in the floor, and stepped up beside the little girl. The mother and father looked at him, then returned their attention to the hole.
Mark looked at it, too, though he’d seen it many times before.
Just a hole in the dirt, probably only a couple of feet in diameter.
Can I fit in there? he wondered. Sure. I must. It’s big enough for the beasts and they’re bigger than me.
‘That’s where the beast comes out,’ he explained in a voice plenty loud enough for everyone to hear.
The little girl looked up at him. Her parents turned their heads.
‘We know,’ said her father. ‘We’ve seen the movies, too.’
‘Have you read the books?’ Mark asked.
The father shook his head and resume looking at the hole.
‘What’re you looking at?’ Mark asked.
‘What do you think?’ the father asked.
The mother gave Mark a tiny frown.
‘Waiting for the beast to come out?’ Mark asked.
‘Please,’ the man said.
‘It might, you know.’
The girl, gazing up at him, raised her eyebrows.
‘Yesterday,’ Mark said, ‘a beast came popping up out of this very hole and snatched a little girl.’ He put a hand on her shoulder. ‘She was just your size.’
‘Don’t touch my daughter,’ the mother said.
‘Excuse me.’ He removed his hand.
The father glared at him.
‘And stop trying to scare her,’ the mother said.
'I’m not trying to scare her. I just wanted to warn her. This big white naked beast actually popped up yesterday and grabbed a little girl no bigger than your daughter and dragged her down into the hole with it.'
The daughter looked good and scared.
Her father whirled toward Mark. ‘Look, kid…’
‘The girl was screaming.’
The mother said to her daughter, ‘He’s making this up, Nancy. He’s a mean person and…’
Crouching low enough to look at the girl straight in the eyes, Mark said, ‘It ate her up!’
She screamed.
The mother threw her arms around the girl.
The father stomped toward Mark. Red in the face, he stormed, ‘That’s enough out of you, young man! That’s more than enough!
Putting up his open hands, Mark backed away. ‘Hey, hey. Take it easy, okay? I’m just concerned about your little girl, man. You don’t want her to get eaten up by a beast, do you?’
The girl screamed again.
‘We’re getting out of here, the mother blurted. She picked up the girl. ‘You too Fred. Come with us right now.’ She hurried toward the stairway.
Fred glared at Mark, then looked at his wife and said, ‘I’ll be right with you, honey.’
‘Now! He’s just a trouble-maker. He probably wants you to hit him so he can sue us. Don’t give him the satisfaction.’
He nodded. ‘I’ll be right with you.’
‘No you won’t. You’ll come now!’
Fred sighed. Then he leaned in close to Mark and snarled, ‘What I oughta do, you little fuck, is rip off your head and shit down your neck.’
‘What you oughta do,’ Mark said, ‘is lay your hands on some original material.’
Fred cried out in rage and reached for Mark’s neck.
As Mark lurched backward, the wife yelled, ‘FRED! NO!’ and the bearded man leaped out in front of Fred to hold him back.
‘It’s all right, fella,’ the bearded guy said. ‘Take it easy, take it easy. The kid’s just a little wise-ass. Don’t let him get to you. Huh? Come on, now. Come on.’
Holding Fred like a friend, the bearded guy walked him toward the stairway.
With the sobbing child in her arms, the mother climbed the stairs backward to keep her eyes on the situation.
Fred, still held by the bearded guy, started up the stairs. He muttered, ‘It’s okay. I’m fine. You can let go.
But the bearded guy held on.
Near the top of the stairs, the mother halted. In a shrill voice, she announced, ‘You, young man, should be ashamed of yourself. You’re a nasty, horrible creature. What’s the matter with you, saying such awful things to an innocent little child! I hope your skin falls off and you rot in hell forever! And rest assured, we will report you! You’ll be out of here on you insolent little ass!’
They resumed their climb up the stairs.
The moment all four were out of sight, Mark swung a leg of the cordon. He hurried over to the hole, sank to his knees, then leaned forward and lowered himself headfirst into the darkness.
Chapter Nine
I did it! I did it!
Feeling gleeful and scared, Mark skidded and scurried downward. The slope beneath him was very steep at first. After it levelled out, he belly-crawled forward a little farther. Then he stopped and lowered his head against his arms.
He was breathing hard. His heart was thudding. Though he felt sweaty all over, the air in the tunnel was cool. It smelled of moist earth, but the dirt beneath him didn’t seem wet.
I can’t believe I made it, he thought.
I can’t believe I did that!
Damn! he thought. Hope I didn’t war
p the little girl for life.
He laughed, but kept it quiet so the quick bursts of air only came out his nostrils and he sounded like a sniffing dog.
Stop it, he told himself.
For a while, he heard nothing except his own heartbeat and quiet breathing. Then came faint voices. A man's voice. A woman’s. He couldn’t hear them well, or what was being said, but he imagined the little girl’s father was in the cellar with one of the female guides—maybe the pretty one, Thompson, who had given Mark directions to the restroom.
The bastard was right here.
Well, he doesn’t seem to be here now.
He imagined the two of them roaming through the cellar, looking behind the various crates and steamer trunks scattered about the floor.
Maybe he went down in the hole.
That’s not very likely, sir. What he probably did was hurry upstairs as soon as you left.
I happen to think he’s hiding in the hole. Would you please check?
Then Mark heard a voice clearly. It did sound like Thompson. ‘All I can say is we’ll keep an eye out for him and toss him out on his ear if we run into him. Let me know, though, if you see him again.’
‘You can count on that, young lady.’ Fred, all right.
‘But I imagine he probably took off after his little stunt.’
‘He terrified my little Nancy.’
‘I understand. I’m sorry.’
‘I don’t know what kind of outfit you people are running here, letting a thing like that happen.’
‘Well, we have a lot of visitors. Once in a while, someone gets out of hand. We do apologize. And we’ll be more than happen to refund…’ Her voice began to fade.
Mark pictured them walking away, heading for the cellar stairs. He still heard Thompson and the man, but couldn’t make out their words. Then their voices were gone.
I’ve really made it now, Mark though. I’m home free.
He felt sorry about causing trouble for Thompson. She seemed nice, and it was his fault she had to deal with the girl’s father.
Hell, he thought, she probably has to contend with crappy people all the time. It’s part of her job.
What if she comes back?
She won’t, he told himself.
Maybe she suspects, just didn’t want to mention it in front of Fred.
He imagined her coming back without the angry father. But with a flashlight. And maybe a pair of coveralls to put on to keep her uniform from getting dirty.
She has temporarily closed off the cellar to tourists.
Standing just outside the cordon, she takes off her tan blouse and shorts. This surprises Mark somewhat, even though it’s only happening in his own mind. He thinks maybe she is removing her uniform so it won’t get sweaty when she crawls through the hole.
Apparently, she doesn’t want her bra or panties to get sweaty, either. Mark can hardly blame her; who would want to spend the rest of the day wearing damp underclothes?
Now she is naked except for her shoes and socks. Balancing on one foot, she steps into her bright orange coveralls.
No longer comfortable lying flat on his belly, Mark pushed with his knees and rolled a little so most of his weight was on his right side.
Why bother wearing the jumpsuit? he thought. Why not just crawl in naked? She can hose herself off afterward.
For a few moments, Mark was able to picture her coming through the tunnel naked on her elbows and knees, her wobbling breasts almost touching the dirt.
She wouldn’t do it naked, he thought. She’s coming in after me, so she’ll be wearing the jumpsuit.
But just the jumpsuit.
Its top doesn’t have to be zipped all the way up. It can be like halfway down, or maybe all the way to her belly button, and…
‘This is it?’ ask a woman’s voice.
‘This is it’ A man.
‘It’s just a hole.’
‘It’s hardly just a hole. It’s the beast hole. It’s how the beast came into the house.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘Well, I think you’d feel differently if you’d read the books.’
‘I saw the movies.’
‘It’s not the same. I mean… this is the beast hole.’
‘And quite a hole it is.’
‘Jeez, Helen.’
‘Sorry.’
They were silent.
A little while later, a male voice said, ‘I suppose it’s all quite Freudian, actually.’
Someone giggled.
‘Am I being naughty?’ the same man asked.
‘Shhhh.’
More voices.
Voices came and went.
As time passed, it seemed ever less likely that Thompson or anyone else would be coming into the hole to search for Mark.
This is so great, he thought. I’ve really made it. Now all I have to do is wait here until the place closes.
He imagined himself opening the back door at midnight, Alison’s surprise - My God, you really did it! - and she steps into the house and puts her arms around him, kisses him.
‘HELLLLLLL-OOOOOHHHHH!!!’
He flinches.
‘HELLL-OOOHHHH DOWN DARE, LITTLE BEASTIE BEASTIE!’
Apparently, just a zany tourist.
As time passed, he found that yelling into the hole was a favourite pastime of people visiting the cellar.
Every so often, a loud voice came down to startle him.
‘Yoo-hooo! Any beasts down there?’
‘Hey! Come on up! Ellen wants to check out the equipment’
‘Guten Morgen, Herr Beast! Was gibt?’
‘Hey! Come on up and say hi!’
At one point, a woman yelled, ‘Yo, down there I’m ready if yer willin’!’
A while later, a man called, ‘Bon jour, Monsieur bete!’
He heard languages that made no sense to him. Some sounded Oriental, some Slavic. Some people who called into the hole spoke the English language with accents suggesting they came from the deep south, the northeast, Ireland, France, England, Italy, Australia. One sounded like the Frances McDormand character in Fargo.
Men shouted into the hole. So did women. So did quite a few children.
When women shouted, their husbands or boyfriends seemed to enjoy it.
When guys shouted, their female compainions sometimes laughed but more often told them, ‘Stop that’ or ‘Don’t be so childish.’
When children shouted, some mothers seemed to find it cute but others scolded. „Hush! And, ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ And, ‘Quit that!’ Sometimes, immediately after shouting a cheerful, ‘Hiya, beast!’ or ‘Betcha can’t catch me!’ into the holes, kids cried out ‘OW!’ Some squealed. Others began to cry.
A couple of times, Mark heard mothers warn their kids, ‘The monster’ll come out and get you, if you don’t behave.’
Mark listened to it all, sometimes smiling, sometimes angry, often grinning as he imagined himself springing up out of the hole at them.
Oh, how they would scream and run!
Except for the shouts, most of the voices weren’t very loud. Some, so often that Mark couldn’t make out the words, formed a soothing murmur. He found himself drowsing off. It hardly surprised him, considering that he’d spent most of last night lying awake.
He fell asleep without realizing it, listening to the voices, his mind often wandering through memories and fantasies but eventually taking a subtle turn into dreams that seemed very real and sometimes wonderful and sometimes horrid. Then a shout would startle him awake. Sometimes, he woke up frightened, grateful to the shouter. Other times, the shout came just in time to prevent Alison or Officer Chaney or Thompson from coming naked into his arms and he woke up aroused and wanted to kill the shouter.
He never knew quite how long he’d been asleep.
Though he wore a wristwatch, he tried to avoid checking it. The more often you check the time, he thought, the more slowly it goes by.
So he waited and waited.
> At last figuring that it must be at least three o’clock in the afternoon, he raised his head and pushed the button on the side of his watch. The numbers lit up 12:35
He groaned.
‘I heard it!’ a kid yelled. ‘I heard the beast!’
Chapter Ten
‘You didn’t hear shit,’ said someone else. The kid’s sister? 'Watch your tongue, young lady.’ Her father? ‘I heard it, Dad! I heard it groan! It’s the beast! It’s in the hole! ‘There’s no such thing as beasts, dipshit. ‘Julie! ‘So sorry.
The boy said, ‘It made a noise like, uhnnnn.’ Oh, sure.’ ‘You just didn’t hear it, cause of your earphones.’
A moment later, the father said, ‘It doesn’t appear that anyone else heard this groan of yours, either.’
‘It’s not my groan, it’s the beast’s! And they’ve all got earphones one! Everybody’s got earphones on! There’s a beast in the hole! We gotta tell somebody!’
‘Is there a problem?’ Asked a new voice. It sounded like a middle-aged woman.
‘I heard a beast in the hole!’
‘Really? What did it say?’
‘Didn’t say nothing.’
‘Anything,’ the father said.
‘It went, grrrrrrr.’
Now the kid’s going weird, Mark thought.
‘Edith?’ Another new voice. A man.
‘This young fellow says he heard a growl coming from the hole.’
‘Havent heard anything like that, myself
‘You had your earphones on,’ the boy argued.
‘I’m afraid my son has a very active imagination,’ his father said. ‘At home, he has a monster under his bed and another one in his closet and…’
‘Don’t forget the green monster in the basement,’ the sister chimed in.
Thank you thank you thank you, Mark thought.
‘But I heard it. It came from the hole.’
‘You’re the hole.’
‘Julie!’
‘Just kidding.’
‘Come on, kids. We’re disturbing everyone. Let’s go.’
‘But Daaaaad.’
‘You heard me.’
‘Don’t be too hard on the boy,’ said the voice of Edith’s husband. ‘An imagination’s a good thing to have.’
Friday Night in Beast House Page 4