When I was young, there were marauding bands of teenagers on Halloween—at least that was how they saw themselves—who soaped windows and overturned trash cans. Nowadays this behavior is more pernicious. One year Helen Berger’s Geo was put on its roof in her front yard. A garage was set on fire on Alfred Street, several cherry bombs were scooted up the exhaust pipes of parked cars, and Mrs. Parson’s collie dog Ollie was shaved naked. Malicious mischief, the police said, but there was also the sense that this behavior was intended to summon a darker force, even to seduce that darker force. And it wasn’t just teenage boys who behaved badly. Hark Powers, for instance, and his three cronies were all adults and they were eager to make trouble.
All four, as well as Aaron, had been charged with being public nuisances the previous Saturday night. Aaron was more victim than aggressor, but Ryan hadn’t liked Aaron’s kicking Hark when he was holding on to Hark’s arm. So Aaron was charged. All five were fined $300 each. Barry’s mother was telephoned from the police station and she came to pick up her son. That night Barry ate dinner at home after all, while his mother sat across from him and asked how he had managed to get in so much trouble.
Because Aaron had thrown the last punch, the issue stayed open. Hark was furious that he’d been made to look bad in front of his friends. He had been painfully kicked in the groin and was unable to respond. Hark talked about it at Bud’s Tavern; he talked about it at Jack Morris Ford. And each time his sense of injury increased. To his mind Aaron deserved far worse than a fine. Jeb and Ernie inflated his sense of ill-treatment. They asked what he meant to do and how he would get revenge. Hark was obliged to do something not just because he had been unfairly struck but in order to retain control over his friends.
“Wait till Halloween,” Hark said.
Other people, including Sheila Murphy, heard him say this. And they later testified to that effect in court.
Sharon’s disappearance created another kind of scariness that Halloween. Few children went out by themselves. Either they went in groups or their parents drove them. A number of parents held parties at home so their children wouldn’t go out at all. And it wasn’t a very nice night, cold with a light rain that turned to heavy snow by early morning.
Sadie dressed up as a vampire and wore a black dress and a black wig. Her face was painted white and her lips were bright red. She went with her friends Meg Shiller and Hillary Debois. Meg went as the victim of a hit-and-run accident, swathed in bloody bandages and with her left leg in a cast. Hillary was a zombie and had a zombie wig and a mouthful of oversized teeth. And she carried a club with a nail through it. They visited me. They seemed nervous about going out and I offered to go with them. That was a mistake because they were so chagrined by my offer they forgot their fear entirely. It was strange to see these three horrors standing in my living room chewing on Tootsie Rolls, while peeking from behind the blood and makeup was their thirteen-year-old prettiness.
My own time that evening was spent sitting by the front door and passing out Baby Ruths, Milky Ways, and Snickers. I had lab reports to grade, but I doubt that I had five uninterrupted minutes between six o’clock and nine. The children who came were wet and bedraggled. They looked more like refugees than demons. Often a father or mother would be waiting out on the sidewalk. Some householders dressed up as well and met their callers with larger and scarier versions of the children’s own costumes. I wore my usual blue blazer and bow tie, and while it may be a costume, it is the one that people expect me to wear.
Hark and his friends had rudimentary costumes. Hark wore a black mask with a moustache and a Mets baseball cap. Jeb Hendricks had an over-the-head ghoul mask. Ernie Corelli wore a plastic Mickey Mouse mask. Jimmy Feldman wore a green grasshopper mask. They drove around in Jeb’s red Chevy Blazer with an ice chest of Budweiser in the back. The longer they drove, the more rambunctious they got.
From about seven they crisscrossed the town for a while, then drove over toward the college, where there was a Halloween dance. Jeb gunned his Blazer at kids crossing the street. Then they drove into the country to play mailbox baseball, destroying six or seven mailboxes with baseball bats. Tom Schneider heard them smash his mailbox and gave chase in his pickup, but they got away. Around eight they drove to Aaron’s apartment. Aaron’s lights were off. Jeb parked and they went inside and hammered on the door. Their plan was to grab Aaron, then drop him off in front of City Hall without any clothes. Maybe they would hog-tie him. Maybe they would tie him naked to the Civil War monument and cover him with yellow spray paint. Maybe they would tie a dog to him as well. Discussing these options gave them much pleasure and so it was disappointing that Aaron wasn’t at home.
Jeb’s Blazer had a particularly loud muffler and many people heard it. And there were other groups of young men, not unlike Hark and his friends, also intent on mischief. Somebody tied the back bumper of Randy Beevis’s Ford Bronco to the front door of Weaver’s Bakery, and when Randy drove away the door was ripped off and the fire alarms sounded. And someone, perhaps the same person, spread vegetable oil on the steps of the police station. Chuck Hawley took a nasty spill and hurt his coccyx.
Franklin went out with Bob Alton, his photographer. Halloween was on Tuesday that year and Franklin wanted to have a full page of photos for Thursday’s paper. They found six teenage boys in coats and ties carrying a seventh, Louie Hyde, in a coffin. They carried the coffin door-to-door and soon it was half full of candy. Louie Hyde had been selected as the corpse because, though he was fourteen, he was under five feet tall. Bob Alton took twenty photos and Franklin interviewed Louie, who said it wasn’t bad being dead because it meant he got to ride.
Franklin also got a picture of a dummy being hauled up the flagpole at City Hall. The Elks sponsored a party for young people with apple bobbing and a costume contest. Franklin talked to the winners—the twins Tim and Tom Miller—who were dressed as a pair of dice. Bob Alton also took pictures of kids they saw on the street: Lucy Schmidt being drawn in a cart by a St. Bernard, the six Gillespie boys and girls all dressed as Big Bird. Franklin drove by Dr. Malloy’s house but there were no lights downstairs. The same was true of the Leimbachs’ house. Donald Malloy’s house was dark as well. Franklin was busy all evening, but because of what happened later he decided it would be in bad taste to run any of the pictures.
Ryan Tavich had a date with Cookie Evans and meant to take her to the Colgate Inn for dinner, but he broke it at the last minute. He couldn’t say why. He had an unsettled feeling. He spent the evening in his car, driving around town or parked on Main Street.
Cookie was not pleased with him. “At least you could have given me a day’s notice so I could have gotten another date.”
Sadie, Meg Shiller, and Hillary Debois stayed on the streets in their own neighborhood. Later Sadie said that they had had no fun, that it was too cold and wet. They saw a lot of other kids, but because of their costumes and the dark, they recognized very few.
“We saw big kids,” said Sadie, “like adults in costumes.”
“How many?” I asked.
“Maybe twenty or so, a lot more than usual.”
These may have been parents watching their children, but perhaps not.
Shortly after eight o’clock Hark and his friends drove to Barry’s house. All four clumped up on the front porch and Hark rang the bell. Mrs. Sanders answered the door. She was a solid woman, quite a bit larger than Barry himself.
“Trick or treat,” said Hark.
Jeb Hendricks laughed.
Mrs. Sanders started to hold out the bowl of candy, then paused. “You seem pretty big for trick-or-treating,” she said.
“We’re kids at heart,” said Hark. He stepped forward, took the bowl of candy from Mrs. Sanders, and gave it to Ernie Corelli. Both Jeb Hendricks and Jimmy Feldman began taking handfuls of candy and sticking it in their pockets. Then Jeb threw a piece of candy at Jimmy and Jimmy threw a piece back at Je
b.
“Give that to me,” said Mrs. Sanders, crossly.
Hark ignored her. “Can Barry come out and play?” he asked.
“We want Little Pink,” said Ernie.
“Don’t you dare call him that,” said Barry’s mother. She snatched the bowl of candy from Ernie. When he tried to stop her, she pushed him backward so he stumbled.
“Get off my porch!” said Mrs. Sanders.
“The old lady’s pissed off,” said Jeb.
Mrs. Sanders put the bowl inside the door, then turned to them again, holding a black umbrella. “Get off my front porch.”
“We want Little Pink,” said Hark.
Mrs. Sanders jabbed Hark in the stomach with the umbrella so he grunted.
“I know who you are, Hark Powers,” she said. “Get off my porch before I call the police.” She swung the umbrella again and all four stepped back.
Hark considered taking the umbrella from her. He was angry at being made to look foolish. A group of children—legitimate trick-or-treaters—approached the house.
“Let’s go,” said Hark. They walked back to Jeb’s Blazer. Jeb dumped the candy he had taken onto the ground. When he pulled away from the curb, he squealed his tires.
Mrs. Sanders called the police anyway. “You better arrest Hark Powers,” she told Chuck. “He tried to break into my house.”
Three patrol cars were out that night. Chuck radioed them and suggested they keep a lookout for Hark. He didn’t know about Jeb’s red Blazer. He thought they were in Hark’s pickup.
Hark told Jeb to drive back to Aaron’s apartment. It was still dark. Hark went and hammered on the door just in case. He waited a minute and hammered again. Then he went back outside.
“Let’s find some dog shit,” he said.
The four men prowled around the yard and found three small piles of dog excrement, which Jimmy picked up with a plastic bag over his hand. Hark told him to put half of the excrement into Aaron’s mailbox. The other half Jimmy smeared over Aaron’s door. As they were giggling about this, Herman Potter, who lived across the hall, looked out. “Hey, what’re you doing?”
“Fuck you,” said Hark. They hurried back to Jeb’s Blazer.
Next they tried to find Leon Stahl, who had a small apartment over by the college.
“We’ll take him downtown and leave him naked in front of City Hall,” said Hark. “The fat fuck.”
Leon’s apartment house had a buzzer system by the front door. Hark pushed the buzzer and after a moment Leon’s voice came through the little speaker. “Who is it?”
“Friends,” said Hark.
“Who?”
“Aaron McNeal.”
“You don’t sound like Aaron,” said Leon, suspiciously.
“Sure it is, let me in,” said Hark.
“What’s your middle name?”
“Come on, Leon, let me in.”
“What’s your middle name?”
“Push the other buttons,” said Jeb. “Someone will answer.”
There were fifteen apartments in the building and Hark pushed the buttons for all of them. After a moment there was a buzzing sound and Hark opened the door.
They hurried up to Leon’s apartment and hammered on the door. Hark put his hand over the peephole. When Leon wouldn’t open, Hark stepped back and gave the door a great kick.
“I see who you are,” said Leon. “I’m calling the police.”
“Who am I?”
“Hark Powers.”
“Shit,” said Hark. They went back downstairs to Jeb’s Blazer. “How the fuck can these people know me with a mask on?”
“It’s probably your clothes,” said Jeb.
“Or the way you walk,” said Jimmy.
They didn’t want to tell Hark it was because of his ear.
They drove to Harriet Malcomb’s apartment but she wasn’t home. They drove back to Aaron’s but his lights were still off.
“Let’s get those two brothers,” said Hark.
They got Jesse and Shannon’s address from the phone book. It was an apartment near the college on Whittier Street.
Jesse and Shannon had been out earlier that evening trick-or-treating, which they did because they had no money and wanted candy. They put bandannas over their noses and said they were outlaws. After thirty minutes of trick-or-treating, they returned home to watch television. About eight-thirty, Barry called to say that Hark had come to his house. Shortly after nine, Leon called and said that Hark and his friends had come to his apartment as well. Neither Barry nor Leon liked the two brothers but they wanted to stay in their good graces. They also called Aaron and Harriet, but neither was home.
Jesse and Shannon turned off their lights, went outside, and waited. Soon they heard Jeb’s Blazer coming down the street. It parked and Hark and the others got out. The brothers lived in a large house that had been broken up into student apartments. The front door was open. Hark, Ernie, and Jimmy went inside and Jeb waited by his car. After a few minutes Hark came out again.
“They’re not there either.”
“Chickenshits,” said Jeb.
All four got back in the Blazer. As Jeb started the car, Jesse and Shannon ran up on either side. They had cans of black spray paint and began spraying the windows. Jeb yelled and pulled away from the curb. Hark shouted to him to stop. Jesse sprayed the front windshield. Jeb slammed the Blazer up over the curb and hit the brakes. Jesse and Shannon spray-painted the back window. Jeb, Hark, and the others scrambled out of the car, but Shannon and Jesse were running toward the campus. The four men gave chase but they were too full of beer to run fast and they didn’t know the area. Shannon and Jesse led them onto the college grounds and disappeared.
Hark stopped in the quad with his friends around him. They could see no movement, although they heard music coming from the student center, where the Halloween dance was being held.
“I want to get back to my car before they get back there and set it on fire,” said Jeb.
“Jesus,” said Hark. “Jesus!”
When they got back to the Blazer, they found the windshield smashed and a cinder block sitting on the front seat. The bits of glass on the dashboard looked like diamonds in the light of the streetlight.
Twenty-seven
What Hark Powers saw as a sense of justice was in fact a sense of retribution, with himself as the punishing force. He saw himself as a weapon set in motion by the hand of righteousness. His intention on Halloween had been to punish those who had done him wrong. And the more his intention was frustrated, the more indignant he became. The fact that Aaron wasn’t at home, that Barry’s mother had jabbed him with an umbrella, that Leon refused to open his door, that Jesse and Shannon had painted the Blazer’s windows and broken the windshield—all this, he understood, had been done to make him mad. By ten in the evening Hark had tied himself into a fat knot of anger.
Ernie Corelli and Jimmy Feldman wanted to go back to Bud’s Tavern. Jeb wanted to go home. His truck, as he called it, was busted up and he’d had enough. Hark saw his control over his cronies sliding away. But he also had a sense of widespread wickedness, which came in part from the time he had spent helping the Friends of Sharon Malloy. Something was dreadfully wrong and Hark didn’t want to go home until he had done something about it.
“Let’s drive by the Arab’s house,” he suggested.
So they drove over to Maple Street. It was past ten and the streets were deserted. It had gotten colder and the rain seemed to have some substance, falling slush. The broken front window of the Blazer was a great open space. Rain and cold air poured through it. Jeb and Hark hunched down and Jeb had the heater on full blast. All four were drinking beer and the ice chest in back was nearly empty. To warm themselves up they also had a fifth of Seagram’s Seven Crown.
Chihani’s house was dark but his car was in the dr
iveway.
“I bet he didn’t pass out candy,” said Jeb.
“He probably sat upstairs with the lights off,” said Ernie.
“Jacking off,” said Jimmy.
“Park in front,” said Hark.
Jeb parked and nicked off the lights but he didn’t turn off the engine. Rain pattered on the dashboard.
“What’re you going to do?” asked Ernie.
“You’ll see,” said Hark. He had pushed his mask up onto his forehead. Now he pulled it down again. He stared at Chihani’s house and the red Citroën.
“You think he’s awake?” asked Jimmy.
“I don’t care if he’s awake or asleep,” said Hark. Reaching into the backseat, he took one of the bats they had used for mailbox baseball. “Don’t turn off the truck,” he said. He opened the door and got out.
“Hot damn,” said Ernie. He grabbed the other bat and climbed out the back. His Mickey Mouse mask gave him a look of immense cheer.
Hark walked up the driveway toward the Citroën. He had had a lot to drink and he weaved a little. Several maples stood along the far side of the drive and another stood in Chihani’s front yard. The neighbor’s house was also dark, although lights were on in other houses. Ernie hurried after Hark. He kept chuckling to himself. He didn’t walk straight either. The other two watched from the Blazer.
Reaching the Citroën, Hark waited for Ernie to catch up. The car was pointed toward the street. Hark stood by the driver’s door, holding the bat loosely in his hand. He stepped back, gripped the bat with both hands, and swung it toward the front window of the Citroën. The noise of the glass shattering was dulled by the sound of the rain. Hark hit the windshield again, knocking the glass into the front seats.
The Church of Dead Girls Page 23