by Hunter Shea
The thought of leaving filled Andrew with equal parts relief and regret. Sure, he and Kate could savor the rest of the summer together on a kind of staycation back home. But it wouldn’t be the same. He could easily picture the disappointment in her face, despite the nightly harassment. One thing they weren’t were quitters. Going home now would be the biggest fail of their lives. But with Kate so sick, her heart so bad, he couldn’t continue to allow the stress to build. That would be the ultimate fail.
“I need a drink,” Ryker said.
“Hair of the dog?”
“Hair up my ass. If I don’t unclench, I may pop.”
Andrew got them each a beer. They both agreed it was important to only have a couple. They needed to be as clearheaded as possible. There was no telling what they were in for tonight.
* * *
Just as Andrew predicted, Kate slept through the day. She didn’t even move a muscle while they were making dinner, plates and pots and pans clacking. Nikki had taken a shine to kayaking and pestered Ryker about buying a pair when they got home. She had obviously shaken off her hangover, a new bottle of wine three quarters done. The more she drank, the louder her voice got. Ryker kept throwing glances at Kate to see if Nikki had woken her. Andrew knew when it got like this, he could bring in a marching band and she wouldn’t budge.
They sat around the dining room table, Nikki digging into her bag of off-color jokes.
“Okay, stop me if you know this one,” she said. “What’s the difference between a bedpost and a dead baby?”
Ryker groaned. “This is one for the kids,” he said, burying his face in his hands.
Andrew was glad they hadn’t clued Nikki in to the stalker details. She’d been doing a bang-up job keeping his mind off the coming of the night. “I have no idea where this could possibly go.”
Waving her wineglass for emphasis, Nikki said, “You can’t fuck a bedpost.”
Despite its incredible crassness, Andrew couldn’t help laughing. Nikki giggled between sips of wine. Ryker just shook his head.
“Wow. I didn’t see that coming,” Ryker said. “Though, being your husband, I should have known it would be disgusting.”
“You Americans are so sensitive. And people think it’s the Brits with a stick up our asses.” She nodded at the soda cans in front of them. “Plus, you’re lightweights.”
“Yes, but a wimpy American with a normal sense of humor stole your heart, now didn’t he?” Ryker said.
She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. “I’m not the first thing you American gits have stolen from the greatest nation on earth.”
“And I’m not giving you back.”
Nikki got up and hustled into the kitchen, wineglass in hand. “Let me check on dinner. Should be ready soon.”
Pasta was boiling away, a pot of tomato sauce beside it. Nikki said she made an amazing spaghetti sauce. Andrew’s stomach rumbled. He’d skipped breakfast and lunch, his mind lost in worry. The smell of Nikki’s cooking had him ravenous.
He looked to Ryker, who was preoccupied with watching his wife stir the sauce, a small smile on his lips.
They were so happy, so alive.
He and Kate had been just like them what seemed a long, long time ago. Yes, they still loved each other very much. But were they happy? There were moments of happiness. It was hard to be cheerful when there was always something ready to piss in your picnic basket.
Watching Ryker and Nikki made him wistful, and Andrew was not prone to wistful thoughts. It made the weight of so many missed years that much heavier.
Anxious to derail his musings, Andrew blurted out, “What gets louder as it gets smaller?”
Nikki turned, one eyebrow arched. “No idea.”
“A baby in a trash compactor.”
Nikki spurted her wine onto the counter. Ryker even laughed.
“There’s hope for you yet,” Nikki said.
As she was wiping up the wine with a paper towel, she saw the small radio tucked next to the sugar bowl on the counter. “You think it’s okay if I find some tunes as long as I keep it low?”
Andrew looked at Kate. She was on her side, her back to them. Buttons slept on the floor beside the bed as usual. Andrew stared hard at her, waiting to see the gentle rise and fall of her side. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d done that, waiting with held breath for his wife to take one, worst-case scenarios playing through his head. Only when he saw the sheet move oh-so-slightly did he resume his own breathing. She wasn’t as bad as she had been at times in the past, especially that year in the hospital when they were told numerous times she wouldn’t make it out. But with a bad heart, things could take a turn for the worse on a dime.
“Sure, it’ll be fine. I’m going to wake her up soon to see if she can eat anyway.”
Nikki found a station playing eighties hits and started an awkward dance while she cooked. Ryker asked Andrew about his job (had he ever had a job? Absence did not make the heart grow fonder) and they fell into easy conversation. The impaled crow drifted further and further from his mind as the sun grew paler, the shadows starting to creep along the back deck.
* * *
Kate was aware that Andrew, Ryker, and Nikki were in the house, making dinner. At one point, she lay still, listening, wanting to get up and join them, but her body wasn’t going to allow it. She drifted in and out of sleep, unsure what was real or imagined. If the pain started to really creep in, she’d know she’d been awake for a spell, allowing her mind to float back into the darkness.
Sliding between microwave feels (her body stiffening when her back went nuclear, but only for a few moments), bad feels, and the comfort of having her family around, Kate felt like a woman at the edge of a cliff, grasping for a handhold, but none was to be found.
At one point, she was running through the woods, the air sharp as razor blades against her flesh (bad feels).
Then she was in the kitchen, listening to Nikki order Ryker and Andrew around to get dinner ready (comfort).
A bolt of flame shot from the base of her spine to the top of her head, waking her instantly (microwave feels).
Something watched her from the window, whispering to her in an alien language. She knew it wanted her to come outside. It had a secret to tell her. The sound of its voice turned her bowels to water. She shit the bed, preferring to sit in the acidic stink than take one step toward the window (bad feels).
Eyes closed, she felt Andrew’s hand press down on her forehead. He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. His lips kissed the tip of her nose (comfort).
Her ear was itchy. She scratched it. When she pulled her finger away, a giant, green walking stick bug clung to her. It had the face of a man – a small, distorted, diseased man, a circus freak, a burn victim, an abomination. The walking stick leered at her and said, “I live inside your ear, you know.” Kate writhed in horror as the chimeric bug made its slow entrance back to its warm home (bad feels).
Kate forced herself to wake up. She was too weak, too tired to call for Andrew, much less get off the bed. The endless flip-flopping had sapped her strength.
Her family, the ones she held most dear, were in the kitchen. That, at least, hadn’t been a dream.
She might not be able to fully comprehend what they were saying, but she knew they were enjoying themselves. The cottage was filled with their laughter and contentment. Part of her was glad just to be able to bask in it, even from her prone position on the bed, one part removed.
Happy to be away from the bad feels, she was still upset that she and Andrew could never have this easy alliance with bliss. Even when they had their fun, it was always knowing that bad times were at their backs, closer than even their own shadows.
She should be with Nikki in the kitchen drinking wine, dancing with Andrew when ‘Careless Whisper’ played on the radio. She’d danced with Jer
ry Deevey to that song at a school dance.
For now, she’d have to dance alone in the uneasy state between dreams and wakefulness, always present but not quite there. Never existing wholly anywhere.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A nightmare scared Kate awake. The second her eyes opened, the terrifying images faded, shattering like safety glass under a sledgehammer. Her heart was racing, causing pain to ripple out from the center of her chest. She felt the sweat at the back of her neck, her legs tangled in the sheet as if she’d been twisting and turning to get away from something…or someone. Her back ached, heat emanating from between her shoulder blades.
The meds and fevers were wreaking havoc with her dreams. She couldn’t remember the last time she hadn’t had at least one nightmare. Images so strange they were impossible to fully convey to Andrew had become commonplace.
She recalled watching a bizarre beast made of mouths, the lips shredded from too many sharp teeth. It was crouched over something, all of the mouths opening and closing with horrid clacking and slurping wetness. Kate kept moving closer and closer against her will. She wanted nothing to do with this creature, but every time she stopped, her feet were dragged along the harsh pavement, like a metal filing drawn toward the magnetized monster.
When she was close enough to peer over its shoulder, purple tongues darting between the masticating teeth, the tips severing and falling at her feet, still twitching like bruised maggots, she saw what had drawn its horrid attention.
It hovered over a boy and a girl, twins from what she could tell, because it hadn’t eaten their faces…yet.
Kate screamed and screamed, unable to break away from the grisly feast.
The creature stopped, turned to her and—
Kate took a deep, rattling breath, wiping her face with a corner of the pillowcase.
She couldn’t remember what came next, nor did she want to.
The TV was on but muted. The blinds were drawn but the lights were on. Andrew wasn’t in bed with her.
She picked up her tablet and checked the time. It was a little after nine. Maybe Andrew had gotten the fire pit going.
Even Buttons was MIA.
The remote had somehow made its way under her pillow. She needed the sound of human voices to calm down. On the screen, Joel McCrea passed himself off as Captain McGlue in a madcap effort to reunite with his wife. A comedy was just what she needed.
Andrew was really what she needed, but he was with Ryker and Nikki, getting what he needed – a break from her.
Several minutes later, the pain in her chest faded just like the nightmare. She was thirsty. Getting up took some doing (now I know how Grandma used to feel when the arthritis got real bad toward the end), but she managed to zombie-walk to the kitchen and get a cold can of soda. The entire cottage still smelled like Italian food.
That was when she remembered Andrew trying to wake her up to eat. She’d been too tired. She hadn’t even been hungry. She still wasn’t, despite the pleasant aroma.
Leaning against the counter, taking a sip, her hand trembling from the insignificant heft of the can, she heard voices. They were coming from inside the house.
She put the can down and slowly made her way to the bedroom, her hips and shoulders vying for gold medals in the chronic pain Olympics. Someone tried to muffle a laugh. Nikki.
Ryker, Nikki, and Andrew were sitting on the floor of the bedroom. There was an empty bottle of wine between them, but only Nikki had a glass. She must have said something witty, because Andrew was laughing too.
They hadn’t noticed that she was peeking in on them.
Ryker leaned against the wall, sitting cross-legged. Andrew lay on his side, head propped up by his hand, all of his attention on Nikki, who was quite tipsy and still beautiful despite her messy hair and dress-down clothes.
Andrew looked so happy.
When was the last time he’d laughed with Kate like that, just the two of them?
Did he look at Kate the way he looked at Nikki? Was he even now thinking about what it would be like to be with Nikki? Of course he wanted to fuck her. It was obvious. How could her brother not see it?
Her spine cracked from the sudden ignition of flames. The agony almost made her cry out, knees buckling. She felt heat at the back of her eyes.
Get him out of here, Ryker! Don’t you know what he wants to do to your wife?
Kate bit down on her cheek.
The burning sensation flared and died just as quickly. She rested her forehead against the wall.
Where was this coming from?
Andrew had never shown the slightest romantic interest in Nikki.
Their sex life might have been running on empty, but that didn’t mean Andrew was suddenly lusting after Nikki. When she looked at them again, Andrew was talking to Ryker, his eyes off Nikki.
You’re being ridiculous.
Yes, she was, but screw anyone who would fault her for having moments of jealousy. Sometimes it got bad when she knew he was out and at work or at the store, surrounded by pretty, healthy women, many of whom would jump at the chance to be with a successful, caring man (who still had all his hair and looked years younger than most guys his age). He was a man, no matter how many times their friends and family called him a saint. A saint simply because he didn’t run from her when things got bad. That wasn’t a reason to canonize someone. You were supposed to honor your marriage vows. If the sickness part came earlier than expected, that didn’t give you permission to jump ship.
Andrew hated it when people called him that. He was no saint.
Kate’s head reeled. She lashed out to grip the doorway’s edge.
“Kate!” Ryker said.
Andrew leaped to his feet, curling his arm around her waist before she fell.
“Hey, little crip. Did we wake you?” he asked. “I’m so sorry. We were trying to keep it to a dull roar.”
With all eyes on her now, her knees wobbling, Kate felt stupid for allowing even the most minor thread of jealousy to creep in. Nikki took her other side, fingering her wet hair from her face.
“It was just another one of my nightmares,” she said, knowing she had to sit down before she collapsed.
“Oh, honey, you’re burning up again,” Andrew said, leading her – practically carrying her – back to the living room.
“I’ll get some Tylenol,” Ryker said from somewhere at her back.
“One cold washcloth coming up,” Nikki said, disappearing into the bathroom.
When Andrew settled her into the bed, she said, “I’m fine. You all go back to having fun.”
He tucked Mooshy behind her head so she could sit up and take her pills. “We were just sitting around bullshitting.”
“You should be outside. I think I hear the fire pit calling.”
Buttons lay watching them from the opposite chair. He looked back at the window and uttered a low howl.
“See, even the dog knows you should be out there.”
A strange look passed over Andrew’s face. It was gone before she could grasp it.
“Here you go, sis.” Ryker handed her two pills and a glass of water. “Now that you’re up, are you hungry? I could make you a meatball parm like I used to when we were kids.”
“You mean the ones I forced you to make if you wanted to hang around with me and Carol?” She smiled and even that hurt.
Crouching beside the bed so they were eye to eye, Ryker said, “I still remember how you liked them. Toast an English muffin partway while heating up three meatballs in the microwave. I had to smoosh a meatball and a half onto each side of the muffin, cover them in cheese, garlic, and oregano, then pop them in the toaster oven. When the cheese was melted, I cut them in fours.”
“With a pizza cutter,” she said.
“Right. That time I used a knife and made the muffin all ragged, you to
ld me I couldn’t come with you guys to the movies.”
She patted his hand and could see by the look on his face that hers was red-hot. “It sounds great, but I couldn’t eat a thing if I tried.”
“Aren’t you supposed to feed a fever?”
Nikki arrived with a folded, cold washcloth. She wiped Kate’s face down and then settled it on her forehead.
“I think that’s for a cold,” Nikki said.
Andrew covered her with the sheet. She was on fire, but she’d started to shiver. Her back throbbed, devoid of the initial burst of heat that now broiled the rest of her body.
“It’s just a fever. It’ll go away,” she said. “Really, I’m fine. Thank you, everyone.”
She wasn’t fine, but she suddenly wanted them to go away. The more they doted on her, the worse she felt. She was the sick, crippled child surrounded by cloying adults. It made her feel helpless and angry. So, so angry.
Andrew ushered Nikki and Ryker away. “I bought a deck of cards. Who’s up for some gin rummy?”
They were mercifully sliding their attention away from Kate when the most inhuman of all screams echoed through the woods, turning everyone inside the cottage to stone.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nikki stopped in midstride, her eyes gone wide as softballs.
“What in the holy fuck was that?”
Ryker and Andrew exchanged nervous glances.
“Sounds like our local fox is whooping it up again,” Andrew said unconvincingly. He looked back at Kate in the bed. She struggled to sit up, eyes on the blinds over the sliding doors as if whatever had made the sound was standing on the porch, waiting for someone to let it in.
It.
Andrew shivered.
What was out there wasn’t an it. No, it was a pair of stoner dropouts (his assumption all along, because who else would have the time or inclination to do this?) playing some recording they had ripped from the audio track on a horror movie.
“That is not a fox,” Nikki said.
“We thought the same thing, but we looked it up. Kate can show you some videos we found that’ll give you goose bumps.”