Liz nodded. “Instead of blaming you, he’d probably even wonder what he was doing wrong to make you mad.”
“I suppose so,” said Beth.
“It works that way with people, Beth. Sometimes, bad stuff happens and you wonder what you did when it’s not you at all.”
“You don’t understand,” said Beth, shaking her head. “It’s more than that. I don’t know how I know, but I know. There were times when I felt like Dad hated me. I mean really hated me, and I didn’t know what he’d do. You don’t know. He’s acting normal now because you’re around. But that’s not him anymore. If you could only have seen his eyes. I know you’ll think I’m crazy, but when the light was dim I could swear they glowed dark red. I was scared, Liz. I locked my bedroom door at night, and I’ve never, ever done that before. And then he didn’t come out of his room for days. I thought he was going to lose his job. He didn’t eat, I don’t think he even slept. He just sat there, like a zombie.”
She was shaking. This, Liz realized, was important. Something with this family was finally breaking loose. Liz took her hand and squeezed it.
“And then Mom got all strange. I mean really strange, Liz.”
Tears trickled down Beth’s cheeks. “Why does no one like me? I mean, it’s the world versus Beth Houdek, and the whole world can’t be wrong!”
Liz put both arms around her and pulled her close. Beth resisted at first, then let herself fall against Liz and wept hard. Liz didn’t say anything, but stroked her head as Hampton put his front paws up on the log, whining as he sniffed at Beth.
“Sweetie, what do you mean your mom ‘got strange?’” said Liz.
Beth heaved a wet sigh. “It was so odd,” she said. “Just as Dad got more normal, at least normal for him, Mom got completely creepy. I know she didn’t believe Bill was really dead, for starters. She thought Dad was running some kind of scam. She was always a little like that, but suddenly she was so much worse.
“She started going through my room. I don’t know what she was looking for, and she tried to hide it, but I could tell. When I locked the door, she went bonkers. I mean totally lost it. I was hiding stuff from her, she said. Locking the door proved it. I was betraying her, just like everyone else. I said she was nuts and all I wanted was my privacy.
“She slapped the side of my head hard, yelling how much I’d let her down. Nothing was hidden from her, she said.
“Dad came out of his room. I hadn’t seen him in two days. I was sitting on the floor holding my head, crying, Mom standing over me. He looked between us and said, ‘What have you done?’
“I was so happy. I know that must sound strange, but I was happy because at first I thought he meant me. What had Mom done to me? But then Mom said something crazy. She said, ‘He’s mine now, and no part of you. He’s left you behind.’ And Dad said, ‘You don’t know him. You don’t know what you’ve done. Leave him before it’s too late.’
“And then I knew they weren’t talking about me. Neither of them. I didn’t know who the hell they meant, but it was like I wasn’t there. I didn’t matter, just this stupid fight they were having about some guy Mom was seeing. It was all about them. I just got up and ran out of the house.
“I couldn’t take it anymore, Liz. Nothing made any sense and the house just felt cold and haunted, so I caught a bus to my grandparents’ home. I didn’t say a word, I just left.”
Beth stopped and shuddered. She opened her mouth to speak, but then just shook it off with an expression of such fear and sadness it stabbed at Liz.
“What’s wrong?” she said.
“My grandparents,” Beth finally gasped out. “I can’t talk about it. I can’t.”
And here they were at the murder-suicide, thought Liz, something neither Beth nor her father had been willing to face with her. Something they both did their best to bury, or that had buried them. But why? Yes, it was tragic, but why did it seem to haunt them both so deeply?
“I think you need to talk about it, Beth.” Liz tapped her chest. “It’s clawing at you.”
“Every day,” said Beth. “I think about it all the time and what I did.”
“What did you do?”
“I can’t,” Beth gasped out, shaking her head.
Liz hesitated. “I don’t know if I’m the right person to talk to or not. I can’t make you tell me about it, and wouldn’t make you even if I could. You have to want to. But I’ll help you if I can, Beth. I want to. But the question is, do you want the help?”
Beth nodded mutely.
“Then talk to me, Beth.”
Beth bit her lip and turned her head away. The seconds ticked by, and then she turned back to Liz, a look of hard determination in her eyes. “Mom was always mental about Grandma and Grandpa, even though they were great to me. They got so excited about me visiting, but Mom almost never let me go. But then, she didn’t much let me go anywhere. She acted like if I was out of her sight for even a second a rock might fall out of the sky on me. Which I could never figure out because it also seemed like having me around just irritated her. If I was around she was mad, if I left she was mad. That was dear old Mom, the emotional boomerang. Everything always came back to her.
“When I left the house after the fight, Grandma and Grandpa were stoked about seeing me. I told them why I’d come, and Grandma was going to call Mom, but Grandpa told her she’d just take me away if we called, so they should hold off. He’d let Dad know so he wouldn’t worry.
“I liked them so much, Liz. It was like being in a real home again, with people who listened to me and cared about me. They took me places, bought me things. Grandpa sat for hours with his hand on my shoulder listening to whatever I had to say. Sometimes he’d nod off and his hand would fall into my lap and I’d hold it while he slept. And sometimes I’d wake up in the morning and find little gifts left on my bedside table. Glass unicorns and earrings, things like that. I felt special for a change. I never got criticized or yelled at or ignored.
“And then Mom found out where I was. I guess she finally forced it out of Dad. She jumped in the car and drove straight to their house, throwing open the front door and yelling bloody murder. She screamed if they ever took me again she’d have the police on them. I would never see them again, not ever. When Grandma asked what was wrong, I thought Mom would bitch-slap her. Instead, she marched right up to her and said Grandma knew perfectly well what was wrong. Mom looked so pissed, but Grandma, I’ve never seen her like that before. She looked crushed, like she might just die of misery.
“Then Mom grabbed me and dragged me to the car by my collar. I told her to leave me alone and I wanted to stay. They were better to me than she or Dad had ever been, and I was never going home.
“And then Mom grabbed my earrings and yanked them off so hard I thought she might tear my ears off. She was so berserk she kept shouting, ‘He gave these to you, didn’t he?’
“I grabbed them back and said it was none of her business. And she said I was nothing but a whore. Can you believe that? A whore for taking a gift from my grandparents.”
Beth’s expression clouded and she hesitated. Finally, she continued, “I don’t know how to describe it, Liz. But Mom, she got very quiet and started driving. There was something about her, the way she looked and the way she felt, that scared me, Liz. I don’t know how else to say it. At least she wasn’t yelling at me, but I’d really have preferred that. There was something so, well, dark about her eyes. Scary, like Dad’s. If the car had been parked, I’d have jumped out and run away. It was like I didn’t know her. All I felt from her was this ice-cold darkness, black and empty, like looking down a well.
“Finally, she said, ‘I know what you’re thinking.’ She didn’t look at me, but I felt like maybe she did know, as if there was no place she could not go and nothing she could not see. And that scared me even more.
“‘I know what all of you are thinking. But I’m strong, and you’ll never deceive me again. Especially not them.’
“I asked her who she meant
and she said my grandparents. They would pay for what they’d done. They’d get exactly what they deserved.”
Beth stopped, shaking again. She looked so distraught Liz was about to tell her to stop when she blurted out, “Five days later, they were dead, Liz.” She sobbed out, “It’s my fault, Liz. I know that if I hadn’t gone to see them, then it wouldn’t have happened. I don’t know why Grandma did what she did, but I’ll never forget the look on her face when Mom dragged me away. I don’t know how, but I think Mom used that to make it happen. But it’s my fault. I know it is. If I’d stayed away, it never would have happened.”
Liz felt thunderstruck. “You don’t understand,” Kevin had said. “It is my fault. I brought it back from Africa. No one knows, but I did. It’s like a virus and now Morgan’s got it. But I was the carrier, Liz. I brought it back, God help us all, and I don’t know how to stop it.”
And now here, again, was the echo of those words, but this time from Beth. What was happening that they both blamed themselves for something neither of them had done? And how did Morgan keep coming into it?
Recovering herself, she put her hand on Beth’s shoulder. “Beth,” she said softly, “we can’t see into the hearts of the dead. We’ll never know why your grandmother did what she did, but she did it. Not your mom, and certainly not you. If there was any way you could have prevented it, you would have. I know that, and I think you do, too. We can never predict all the outcomes of what we do. You never know all the bitterness or frustration that grows in the heart of another, but you can know what’s in your own heart. You loved your grandparents and only wanted the best for them. There isn’t anything you wouldn’t have done to keep them safe had it been in your power.”
After a long pause, Beth said, “I found out they were dead when Dad came to my room. He was frantic, Liz. He emptied my drawers and closet into two suitcases like the house was on fire. I kept asking what was wrong, but he wouldn’t answer except to say we had to leave right away. Our lives depended on it. He said grandmother and grandfather were dead.
“I didn’t believe him at first. I couldn’t. I thought it was some sick joke. I was angry and tried to get to a phone to call them, but Dad stopped me.
“We went to a friend’s house, someone Dad had known in college, and stayed with them for just a few days, and then we moved a lot, sometimes living in motels. We even spent a night in the car.
“I found out it was true. I couldn’t understand how Grandma could have done it, and Dad said she hadn’t, not really. But when I asked him what he meant, he wouldn’t say. The only thing he said was that I must not contact my mom, that she must not know where we were. From the way he acted, I was sure he knew Mom had something to do with what happened, but he wouldn’t say except that it wasn’t safe if she found us, and I just had to believe him.
“I didn’t know what to think. Dad put me in a new school and he got a new job. I know he filed for a divorce. I was given a choice about where to live, and I chose him, but I really didn’t know what to do. I was so scared and alone. I’d have lived with my grandparents, but they were gone and I was sure it was somehow my fault.
“We got an apartment and thank God for Hampton. He’s been my only friend.
“But sometimes, at night, I feel her, Liz. I feel my mom. I know she’s angry and her mind is looking for me. It’s so weird. I don’t know why I feel it, but I do and this feeling comes more often now and her anger just gets stronger and stronger. It scares me so much some nights I can hardly sleep. I let my grandparents down, my mom hates me, my dad is a freak, and I’m alone. I told you when we started that I’d rather Dad had left me behind so I could be with friends, but that was a lie. I don’t have any friends, Liz. I don’t have a mom, and I hardly have a dad.”
She wept like Liz had never seen anyone weep, in the grip of a despair so deep, complete and lost it reminded Liz again of the shriek of that red-eyed bird.
Liz held her and this time Beth didn’t resist, but gave herself up to her misery.
Liz was stunned. This went so much deeper than she had ever guessed or expected. She’d thought Beth was simply a typically difficult teenager. And it shocked her that Kevin had not spoken a word of it to her.
Liz rubbed her hand across Beth’s shoulders, rocking her. “It’s not your fault,” she repeated.
When Beth had cried herself out, she sat back looking so heartbroken that Liz took her hand and on impulse said, “Look, you can come stay with me for a while in San Francisco. You’ll love it. We’ll work something out with your dad. I’ve got an extra room.”
“You mean it?” Beth stared back at her. “You’d let me do that? But you don’t even know me.”
“Well, I guess that’s going to change. So yes, I mean it.”
Beth frowned. “But I can’t leave Hampton,” she said. “He’s been my pal through all this and I can’t leave him with Dad and certainly not with Mom.”
Liz sighed inwardly. “You can bring him, too.”
A fragile glimmer of hope lit Beth’s eyes. “You’re sure?” she asked.
Liz nodded, wanting to shoot herself, but also feeling satisfaction at how happy she’d just made Beth. “Yes,” she said, “but there is one proviso, sweetie.”
“Anything,” said Beth.
“Not a word about my smoking.”
Beth bit her lip.
“Nada,” said Liz.
“Okay,” said Beth. “Even though it would be for your…”
“Uh uh,” Liz interrupted, pushing a finger against Beth’s nose.
Beth nodded meekly.
Chapter 3
Africa
They spent the next several days confined to the room with the girl. Fortunately, Bill had brought antibiotics, but even so it was a near thing. That she would live was not so much in doubt except at the very start, but it was nothing short of a miracle that she didn’t lose the leg.
When she started to come around, Kevin discovered that she was a cheerful kid full of bright smiles and, despite the pain of her wounds, she laughed easily. Curiously, though, she seemed withdrawn when her father came to visit.
General Mosquito always brought with him an oddly dressed old man. He wore a leather shirt adorned with tiny seashells stitched in complex patterns across his front and back. He had a long gray beard and he stared at them with small, narrow eyes, like a bird of prey. Kevin had the distinct impression that Asta, the girl, was afraid of him.
After one of their visits Kevin asked her about him. She was reluctant to answer but finally said he was a powerful magician. She said he had great juju because he could talk to demons and he helped her father. That was all she would tell them.
When her father came back for visits, the curtains were open and Kevin could see him better. When he smiled at Asta, he saw that his teeth appeared to have been sharpened, something Kevin hadn’t noticed before in the dim light. When he looked Kevin in the eyes and smiled, he found it like looking into the face of a cobra. Kevin was sure it was an effect he intended.
After a week, when it was apparent Asta would live, Diallo came to see them still dressed in his signature immaculate white suit. He said the general was grateful to them for saving his daughter and they were now free to wander the camp. That evening they were to be the general’s guests for dinner. Diallo added that he was ready to take them on a tour of the town, if they liked.
Bill answered that if the general was really grateful he could send them back to their clinic right away. They had work to do.
Diallo laughed and shook his head. He said there was plenty of time for that and they should think of this as a vacation. They could go home tomorrow. For now, they were the general’s guests.
Kevin was glad for the chance to escape the room where they’d been confined for so long. Diallo led the tour, advising them to stick close to him and to stay on paths that showed heavy use. Landmines, he warned.
The town was dilapidated and sprawling. Nearly every building showed war damage and
most had lost their corrugated sheet metal roofs. It was by and large deserted except for a handful of ragged and frightened-looking women and children, staring at them from the dim recesses of the houses they passed on the unpaved streets.
Suddenly, a shiny red-and-black dirt bike raced around a corner, its engine screaming, and stopped next to them in a cloud of red dust. General Mosquito, wearing camouflage pants and a white tee shirt with Bart Simpson emblazoned on the front proclaiming, “Eat my shorts,” sat grinning with his pointed teeth, his eyes covered by mirrored sunglasses. Behind him sat a very attractive woman, her hair tightly braided in intricate cornrows tied together at the back of her head. She wore jeans and a bright flower-patterned blouse.
“Welcome to my kingdom,” he said, waving his hand expansively. “It is humble but it will grow because we are an army of the people.”
“General Mosquito is Lord of the Flies,” said Bill.
Mosquito sat gazing at Bill a moment, still smiling. “Even mighty America will tremble and run before me,” he finally said, “just as it did in Somalia. Africans have no fear of dying and you Americans are cowards. I am a soldier, and I will be happy to one day die as a soldier. But until then I will be dedicated to my people. As long as they want me to lead them, I will. I do not choose it. It is they who choose me, my friend.” He jabbed Bill in the chest with his finger. “And they are not flies, my people, they are warriors and proud.”
He gunned the bike’s engine. The back wheel spun, kicking up gravel and dust before catching hold of the road. Darting forward, the front of the bike rose up off the ground as it roared away down the street.
Diallo carefully brushed the dust from his jacket. “You ought to be careful, Dr. Marsh,” he said. “You forget where you are and who you are. The general has killed men for lesser insults.”
Kevin was furious with Bill and said that he agreed with Diallo. It now looked like they might get out of this alive if he would just keep his damn mouth shut.
Bill shrugged. “You can’t let a madman like that make you forget who you are,” he said, “and what you will and will not do. That is the only real freedom we have.”
The Demon Stone Page 9