Anathema

by David Greske

  "You're okay, too, dorkface.” Molly smiled back.

  Travis cuddled into his sister, and Molly put her arm around her little brother. Together, they stared out the window for a long, long time.

  Chapter 7

  Jim awoke to the aroma of bacon and eggs. He took a minute to gather his thoughts, and when he was sure he wasn't dreaming, opened his eyes. He looked at the clock on the night table. Damn, it was half past ten. He had planned to have a good deal of the yard cleaned by now.

  He got out of bed, put on a robe, and padded down the stairs and into the kitchen. Jim expected to be greeted by the cold shoulder that had become such a part of his life, but to his surprise, he was met with a pleasant smile and a peck on the cheek.

  "Good morning, Sunshine,” she cooed. “I thought you might sleep the whole day away."

  Diane scooped a spoonful of scrabbled eggs onto a plate and topped it with two slices of bacon. She sang and danced her way around the kitchen like Donna Reed on drugs.

  What in the world is going on here?

  Diane sat the plateful of food on the table next to a big glass of orange juice and three slices of buttered wheat toast.

  "Sit down.” She pulled a chair out from the table. “Sit down and eat it before it gets cold."

  Diane hadn't cooked her husband breakfast since they were first married, and today, she had presented him with a feast. Jim didn't know what caused this abrupt about-face, but he certainly wasn't going to question it.

  Diane sat in the chair opposite him, reached across the table, and took his hand. “I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for being such a bitch these last few days. Actually, I'm sorry for being a bitch these last few years. I want things to work out, too. Not just for the kids, but for us. You are a good man, Jim. You're a good father and a wonderful husband. I'm just sorry I didn't see it sooner. Forgive me?"

  Diane stood, unbuttoned her robe, and let it fall to the floor.

  Jim's mouth dropped open, spilling bits of egg onto the plate.

  "Where are the kids?” He looked at Diane's naked body. Already, her nipples were erect; her pubis sparkled with moisture.

  "They wanted to check out the town, so I took them along when I went to get the stuff for breakfast. I told them I'd pick them up about one. And you're right, Jim, this is a cute little town."

  "So, you're telling me we have the whole place to ourselves?"

  "Uh-huh,” she whispered with more than just a hint of playfulness in her voice.

  Diane moved around the table and stood close enough to her husband that her soft pubic hair tickled his cheek. He could already smell her inviting muskiness. Jim felt himself becoming hard beneath his robe.

  He couldn't remember the last time Diane acted like this. The last time he made love with his wife was two months before he told her they were moving. He thought sex would put her in a more receptive mood to the news, but all he managed to do was anger her to the point that if he even touched her, she'd grow colder than the refrigerator.

  "So, I could take you right here on the kitchen table if I wanted to,” Jim said. He realized he wasn't hungry anymore—at least not for breakfast.

  "If that would be your pleasure,” Diane replied with a sultry smile.

  "But my eggs'll get cold."

  "The hell with the eggs."

  Jim stood and quickly cleared the dishes. He put the glass, silverware, and plate in the sink and tossed the remaining two slices of toast in the trash. When he turned around, Diane was leaning against the table. Her hair had fallen in front of her face and Jim was reminded of one of those sexy nineteen thirties’ movie starlets.

  Diane reached out and beckoned him by curling her index finger.

  Jim took off his robe and slipped out of his pajama bottoms. His erection stood out in front of him like a flagpole. He approached his wife, wrapped his strong arms around her delicate waist, and pressed into her.

  Diane parted her lips to accept her husband's tongue. Jim flicked the inside of her moist, pink mouth, tasting toothpaste and coffee. His hands worked her body, enjoying the swells and curves of her breasts. He toyed with her nipples.

  Diane stroked the inside of his thighs, tugging at the silky blond hair she found there. She caressed his testicles and ran her hand up his shaft.

  Jim moaned and ran his hand down her flat stomach until he found the thatch of hair between her legs. He probed the opening of her sex with his finger.

  Diane leaned back across the table and Jim followed. He rolled over so Diane was on top. With Diane straddling him, he felt the wetness of her sex lips on his stomach.

  Diane lowered herself onto his hard organ. She gyrated her hips and clinched her love muscles around his tool.

  Jim reached up, put his hands on his wife's shoulders, and closed his eyes.

  In his mind, he was back at the Stumble Inn of his dream. He had joined the orgy of the dead. He reached up to one of the women above him and peeled off a sheet of her decayed, black skin. He scraped the arm of another, and thick, black goo oozed from the wound. Dead flesh dangled from beneath his fingernails.

  One of the whores went down on him. Her lips felt like sand on his papery skin. Teeth scraped as she bobbed her head. Jim reached out and grabbed her by the hair. He pulled out great gobs of her scalp and revealed the transparent skull underneath. Inside the skull, her gray brain pulsed with every beat of his heart.

  Another whore sat on his face. Her vagina stank of rotten fish and sour, spoiled meat. It made Jim gag, but still he poked his tongue into her withered opening. The whore cackled like a dying hyena.

  With his hand, he masturbated the third whore. Chunks of her broke away as he plunged his hand deeper and deeper into her vagina. His arm became covered in bright red gore.

  Then he opened his eyes and came the instant he saw Diane looming over him.

  Diane collapsed on top of him. “Wow, I never knew you could be such an animal."

  Jim said nothing. He just held her close and stoked her sweat-damp hair. He couldn't get the images of the dead out of his mind. But what was worse, he couldn't get their feeling out of his soul.

  * * * *

  After the loving, Jim dressed in silence and went to work in the yard. Diane slipped into her robe, tidied the kitchen a bit more, and then headed to the shower.

  While she waited for the water to get hot, her mind kept returning to the lovemaking episode. She couldn't remember the last time Jim had been so physical. It was as if something had come over him. Something that was exciting, yet frightening all at the same time.

  Diane pulled back the curtain and stepped under the shower. The water felt good as it hit her skin, especially around her hips and thighs. But when she turned her back to the spray, she yelped. It felt as if her back had been stung by a hundred angry hornets.

  She turned off the shower, dried herself with a thick, fluffy bath towel, and craned her neck so she could see her back in the mirror.

  Her eyes widened. There were long, jagged scratches running down her spine. They weren't bleeding, but were puffy and inflamed, and the hot water had brought them screaming to life.

  Whatever had gotten into her husband this morning, she hoped would stay around for a while, but she would have to tell him to take it easy with the fingernails.

  Diane finished drying off, considered putting salve on her injuries, but didn't, then padded into the bedroom to dress.

  She was still smiling when she headed into town to pick up the children.

  Chapter 8

  Jim hurt. His loins felt as if they were on fire. He had no idea what came over him in the kitchen, but he certainly wasn't himself. It had been as if an unseen force possessed him. That he was looking at things through someone or something else's eyes. The images of his orgy with the dead were beginning to fade along with the memory of last night's disturbing dream. Mentally, he was becoming his old self again, but physically, he'd hurt for days.

  Jim wiped the sweat from his face with the
green ‘kerchief he had tied around his neck. Rufus found solace under the porch. His body was stretched along the stone foundation to keep cool. His snout rested on his outstretched paws. The dog's pink tongue hung from his mouth like a piece of raw, dried steak. The dog days of summer had arrived, and it was a cooker.

  Rufus's ears perked up, and he lifted his head at the brown pick-up that rumbled up the driveway. The dog barked once, then settled back down. It was too hot for such nonsense.

  Jarvis stepped out of the pick-up and walked toward Jim. Dressed in a pair of dusty cowboy boots, faded jeans, dirty T-shirt, and sweat-stained cowboy hat, he looked like a character out of a Clint Eastwood spaghetti western.

  Jim dropped the scythe in the grass and moved to greet Jarvis.

  "Who's minding the store?” Jim asked.

  "Nobody, I just closed it down for a couple of hours. Owners can do that sort of thing."

  "I was just about to take a break. Have a beer. Care to join me?"

  Jarvis squinted and looked up at the sun. The angry, white-hot orb throbbed in the too blue sky. “Don't mind if I do. It'll go down good on a day like today."

  The inside of the house wasn't much cooler than outside, but at least the sun wasn't beating down on them. Sunlight shone through the kitchen window and cast a golden rectangle on the warm linoleum. Despite the dark cabinetry and center island, there was still an airy feel to the room. The smell of fried bacon lingered in the air.

  "Wow, I'd forgotten how big this place really is,” Jarvis remarked.

  The kitchen was one of the three largest rooms in the house. The other two were the main bath on the first floor and the master bedroom on the second level. Jarvis's own kitchen was but a cubbyhole with barely room enough for him to turn around.

  Jim went to the refrigerator and grabbed a couple cans of Budweiser. When he turned around, he found Jarvis sitting at the table, and although he tried not to, Jim couldn't help but chuckle. If his friend knew what had happened on that table earlier, he may have chosen another place to sit.

  Jim popped the top on the beers and handed one to Jarvis.

  "So, what brings you this way?” Jim took a swallow of his brew and wiped the foam from his mouth with the back of his hand. He joined Jarvis at the table.

  "I just thought I'd stop by and see how you're settlin’ in. And to invite you and the family to tonight's party on Main Street."

  "Party? For what?"

  "Oh, you know. It's just one of those town celebrations that happen every year.” Jarvis took a drink of his beer.

  "Does sound fun. It'd be a great way to get to know the town. I'll ask Diane when she comes home."

  Jarvis gently changed the subject. “I know this is none of my business, but have you considered fencing in the woods?"

  "I guess I never thought about it. Do you think I should?"

  "I only mention it because sometimes animals wander out of the woods looking for food. I just don't want anything to happen to you or your family. And there's an old swimming hole back there, too. You don't want to go swimming in there. It's too dangerous. Too many kids have drowned."

  "Fence in the whole woods? Wow, that'd be quite a job. Must be twenty acres out there."

  "Twenty-five. But I'm sure the boys at the hardware store would give you a fair price on the materials. Probably sell it to you at cost. I'd be willing to help you set it."

  "Well, after what you've told me, it's definitely something to think about."

  Jim finished his beer, got up, and tossed the empty in the recycle bin. He opened the refrigerator. “Can I get you another?"

  "No thanks, buddy, I need to be going,” Jarvis sucked down the last dregs of his beer and deposited the empty with the others. “I'll see you tonight, then?"

  "Yeah, you probably will,” Jim replied and walked Jarvis to the door.

  Fresh beer in hand, Jim watched Jarvis drive away. He looked at the sprawling woods behind his house.

  There's an old swimming hole back there.

  It's dangerous.

  Maybe Jarvis was right. Maybe he should consider fencing off the woods. It would probably be better for everyone.

  * * * *

  Another beer piqued his curiosity. The fourth gave him courage.

  Jim walked down the path that wound its way through the trees, being careful not to stumble over the roots that stuck up through the ground. He followed the serpentine trail until he came to the swimming hole, then he burst out laughing.

  This scummy water-filled crater was what Jarvis warned him about! Jim needn't worry about anyone swimming in that! It smelled so bad even the flies avoided it. But the cave that was less than a hundred feet away was another story.

  Jim trudged up the small hill that led to the cave. The entrance was well hidden by an overgrowth of bramble and weeds, but he had heard too many horror stories about children who had gone into a cave to play, got disoriented, and never came out. He didn't want such a fate for his son or daughter.

  Regardless of whether he fenced in the woods, he'd seal up the cave's entrance—and any others he might find—to prevent his children from wandering inside.

  Jim was about to head back home when a glint of light shimmered in the corner of his eyes. He spun around and looked into the mouth of the cave, certain the flash came from inside.

  "Hello?” He walked toward the entrance. “Is somebody in there?"

  He parted the brush and stared into the dark cavity. A bright green light flashed again.

  Not wanting to, but unable not to, Jim stepped into the cave and the light flashed like a disco strobe.

  Come into the light, an unknown voice whispered in his head. There is so much to see in the light. So much to feel.

  Jim took another step forward. Tears streamed down his cheeks. His head felt like it was going to explode. He wanted to turn back, yet he continued to move forward.

  That's right. Come closer. Touch me. Feel me.

  The wall of light stopped flashing and now pulsed in time to Jim's terrified heartbeat. He reached out and touched the wall. It felt like Jell-O.

  Welcome.

  Then he walked into it.

  He felt worms in his head, and their tiny teeth nibbled at his brain as they bored through it. The light was like ice against his flesh and its brightness scorched his eyes. Images of pestilence flashed before him. Wails of the suffering echoed in his ears. He smelled death as it rolled off him in a thick, putrid cloud.

  These sensations should've driven him mad. Instead, he was aroused.

  The rational part of his mind forced him to scream, but instead of a shriek, a volume of blood gushed from his open mouth.

  Then out of a swirling mist, came the three dead whores. Their titties had become living mounds of flesh. A pair of scarlet eyes replaced the nipples. Shriveled vaginas were lined with teeth that dripped blood as dark as crude oil. They surrounded Jim, pulled him into their circle, and fell upon him...

  * * * *

  Jim awoke to the sound of Diane's voice. He ran his hand through his hair and waited for his eyes to focus on his wife's face.

  What a dream. The last thing he remembered was having a beer with Jarvis. Afterward, he must've lain down. The combination of the heat and alcohol must've zonked him out.

  "Hi.” He smiled at Diane. “What time is it?"

  "Just after three o'clock."

  Three o'clock! It was one-thirty when Jarvis left. He couldn't have been asleep for more that twenty minutes. Jim sprang out of bed and padded into the bathroom. It was then he noticed the stain on his underwear and the stickiness on his thighs. A wet dream. He hadn't had one of those since he was seventeen.

  "So, what'd the kids think of downtown?” Jim sponged off his legs.

  "Surprisingly enough, they thought it was great. Molly complained because they don't have a mall, but she still managed to spend a week's worth of groceries at the Four Seasons Department Store."

  "Jarvis stopped by this morning..."

 
"Jarvis? Who's Jarvis?"

  "He's the fellow I met downtown, yesterday. He owns one of the taverns. I think we're becoming friends."

  "Good and I guess that would explain all the beer cans downstairs."

  "He only had one, I had the rest.” Jim poked his head out of the bathroom doorway. “Forgive me?"

  Diane smiled.

  "Anyway,” Jim continued, “Jarvis said there was some kind of celebration happening downtown and asked us to go. So, you wanna?"

  "Yeah, why not. I think it'll be fun and give me a chance to meet this new friend of yours."

  Jim stepped out of the bathroom. His member stood out in front of him.

  "Where are the kids?” He moved his hips back and forth, making his erection wag.

  Diane eyed her husband's engorged sex. “Molly's in her room trying on the things she bought, and Travis is out back playing with Rufus. We have time."

  Diane stripped off her jeans and panties, lifted her blouse above her head. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her fingers probed her sex. Jim locked the bedroom door, smiled, and joined his wife.

  Chapter 9

  Diane had been wrong about the kid's description of downtown. According to Travis, it wasn't great, it was awesome. Since Diane had brought them home, Travis hadn't stopped talking about it. Now, during the trip back into town, Travis told his stories all over again.

  The park was equipped with three swing sets and a Jungle Gym that Travis could only describe as “sweet.” There were two basketball courts (but they were for the bigger kids), and a softball diamond. Travis said the spring Little League and T-Ball tryouts were held there. He read that on a poster in the park shelter.

  Jim supposed come next spring, he'd be spending a lot of Saturday afternoons watching his son play ball.

  Travis said downtown had a Toys-R-Us and a store that sold X-Men comics. Jim doubted if a town the size of Prairie Rest could support a large toy store, but if his son wanted to believe it, what harm could it do? Diane thought the store with the comics was probably the Paperback Parlor across the street from the Gas-n-Go.

  Molly joined the conversation as well. She said she found the neatest antique shop, and the Sew What! had a ton of fabrics and notions. She even expressed an interest in taking up sewing again. But she was really impressed that downtown had a Starbucks, just like back in Ventura.