Watch

by Cass J. McMain

  “I guess.” But that didn’t make him feel any better. Scott picked at his cuticles in the semi-darkness, wondering if the dirt fell in all at once when the lid collapsed.

  Wondering if the bones would break.

  “Go to sleep. Don’t think about this stuff anymore, ’kay? It’s just gonna creep you out.” Todd settled back again and Scott watched him until he fell asleep.

  He lay down and stared at the closet door. Tomorrow, he had to find a better hiding place for the cross.

  Chapter 19

  Todd threw down the sleeping bags and sat on them. “There, all set.”

  Scott looked up briefly from the television and shrugged. They had to sleep in the den for the next three nights; Uncle Bruce’s daughter was coming to visit. Bruce had gone to pick her up.

  “You think she’s gonna bug us with girl stuff?”

  Todd made a noncommittal gesture. “It’s just a few days. What girl stuff?”

  “Dolls or something. I’m not playing with her.”

  “Uncle Bruce’ll make us. It won’t be so bad. Not dolls, but we could play other stuff. A board game, or catch or something. Maybe we can all go swimming.”

  Scott thought about that. “Swimming would be OK. Or the zoo, maybe.” His mother had promised to take them to the zoo this summer if he got good grades. Now school was out, and his grades didn’t matter. His mother wasn’t around to see them, and Bruce hadn’t even asked. Maybe his real dad would want to see them when they got there.

  “Do they have a zoo in Florida?”

  “Of course they have a zoo. Moron.” Todd kicked Scott in the thigh roughly and threw himself down on the floor next to him. “Whaddya think, we have the only zoo here? Everybody’s got zoos.”

  Scott glared at his brother. “I’m just asking is all.”

  Todd threw himself on top of Scott and wrestled him down. Scott struggled furiously but could not prevail. The sound of the front door ended the match, and the boys sat up to catch their breath.

  Uncle Bruce peeked into the den. “Hey guys. Come meet your cousin. This is my daughter, Lacy. Lacy just turned seven, right honey?”

  Lacy peered out from behind Bruce’s legs. Her hair was long and braided. She stuffed her fingers in her mouth and hid behind the legs again.

  “Hi,” Todd said. “I’m Todd. This is Scott.” He looked up at Bruce and tried again.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Lacy,” she said from behind the legs. “He just told you.”

  “Oh. Yeah.” Todd sat back on his heels and looked at Scott, who snorted at him.

  Uncle Bruce smiled. “Alright, come on, Lacy. Go sit there on the couch. You boys find something on the TV you can all watch. Cartoons or something. I’m going to go make some dinner.”

  Lacy reluctantly moved away from the legs and toward the couch. Todd got off the floor and sat next to her, fiddling with the remote. Scott remained on the floor, his eyes darting from one to the other.

  “So you’re here to visit your dad?”

  Lacy put one of her braids in her mouth and nodded silently.

  “How long have you lived with your mom?”

  Shrugging, Lacy turned her eyes on the television.

  “She’s always lived with her mom, dumbass,” Todd interjected, laughing.

  Lacy giggled and Scott made a face. “I mean with just your mom.”

  She giggled some more but didn’t answer the question. “My dad says you’re staying with him until your dad can take you.”

  “Yeah. Couple more weeks, we’re going. Florida.”

  “Is Florida far?”

  Scott looked at Todd, who asserted that it was far. “It’s like a four hour plane ride, I think.”

  “Is it hot in Florida? Dad said it was like summer all the time there.”

  Todd laughed. “Yeah, it never freezes.”

  Scott wondered if that was true. He knew there were crocodiles and snakes there. He’d read about them. “They had a story on the news about a lady in Florida who found a huge snake in her garage,” he said.

  Lacy’s eyes grew huge. “Ew, no way!”

  “Yep, they had to get ten men to carry it out.”

  “No way, you’re a liar.”

  Scott shook his head and leaned closer. “It’s true. They have snakes there big enough to eat people.”

  Lacy’s eyes brimmed with tears. “That’s not true. You’re making it up.”

  “They grab them by the head and squeeze them—”

  Todd kicked Scott. “Shut up, retard. You’re scaring her. She’s only seven.” He took the sniffling Lacy by the hand before she could run away. “C’mon. Let’s go find your dad and see what he’s making for dinner.” They made their way out of the room. Todd looked back over his shoulder at Scott and jabbed a finger at him, shaking his head.

  Scott flung himself back against the couch and stared at the television. The news story was true, he was sure. He wondered if the snakes in Florida ever got even bigger than that. Maybe the girls in Florida were used to them and wouldn’t cry so easy. He wasn’t too worried about the snakes. He’d heard stories about the spiders, too, and those scared him more. Even a huge spider was pretty small, and they could be hiding in places so you didn’t see them until it was too late. How could a ten-foot snake ever sneak up on anyone? You’d have to see that coming a mile away, like a school bus. Maybe they hid under water like the crocodiles.

  He guessed he’d find out soon enough. Two weeks was a long time, but not that long. He flipped channels on the remote and thought about snakes and Florida and girls. He wondered if he’d like Florida. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with Loop anymore, he thought. Then again, Loop hadn’t been a problem for a while, had he? Not since that old guy with the knife. Loop had left him alone after that.

  Scott stopped flipping channels as his mind went over this thought. What would the new school be like? What if there was a new bully? He couldn’t expect there to be another old man to save him. What had the old guy said? A boy has to learn to defend himself. A boy needs a knife. “A boy like you,” the man had said.

  He paused, thinking about what a strange day that was, but decided it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because it was true: he was going to be on his own. He better start practicing more with the knife, and getting used to it. Bullies never listened to anything but force, he knew. He had to get good with his knife. A boy has to learn to defend himself.

  Especially a boy like me.

  Chapter 20

  Corky popped her leftover lunch in the fridge and made her way to the front counter. “Your turn, Bren.”

  “OK. I’ll be back.” Brenda closed the magazine she’d been reading and reached for her purse. “Oh – your freakshow guy was here.”

  “Grey?”

  “He wanted you to call him. He left a note.” Brenda slid a book across the counter and pointed to a slip of paper poking out of it. “He wants to see if you’ll reduce the price on this one. He asked me, but I told him it was your consignment.”

  Corky nodded and took her post at the register, reading the note. She opened the book gently and leafed through it. This was one of the older ones, one Lew had said would probably fetch a decent price from a collector. It hadn’t sold, though. Only a couple of people had even glanced at it. Grey had picked it up and put it back a few times, Corky knew.

  She looked at the calendar. It was the middle of July already. In a few weeks, it would be a year that she’d had these books. It was time to deal, certainly. How much of a discount should she let him have? She sat and considered it, and in the end she decided to make him a present of the old book. It would mean a lot to him. Corky drew the consignment tablet out from under the counter, looked the book up and crossed it off the list. She picked up the phone to call him, and then decided to just drop the book off after work as a surprise instead.

  ***

  Corky rapped quietly on Grey’s blue door. There was no immediate answer, but she heard move
ment. She knocked again, a little louder.

  The curtain on the front window twitched and Grey opened the door just a crack. “Corky. Hi.” The door opened a few more inches. “What’s up?”

  “I came to… Brenda said you were at the shop. I decided to give you this, as a present.” She held the book up.

  “Oh, wow. Thanks.” Grey opened the door another little bit and reached out to take the book. He had a bruise on his cheek.

  “What happened?” Corky asked, pointing.

  “Oh, nothing. It’s not a big deal.” Grey’s hand went to his cheek and he winced as he felt the bruise. “I’ll explain later.”

  A shout issued from behind him, followed by a burst of laughter. Grey looked back over his shoulder and then stepped out of the apartment, pulling the door mostly closed behind him.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Just some… friends. You know. You don’t want to go in there. They’re… um… pretty wasted.”

  Corky nodded, looking at Grey. He was shirtless, and the bruise on his cheek was just one of many. He had several bruises on his arms, too. And on his chest. Corky’s eye trailed down the front of his slender form, wondering if there were others.

  Grey caught her looking. “It’s nothing, Cork. OK? Don’t get all… weirded out. You know about me.”

  “I thought it was…” She forced her eyes up to meet his. “Sorry. None of my business. I just—”

  The door behind Grey opened wider, and a woman in a tight black pantsuit appeared. “Grey, baby. Come back in here, love.” She gave Corky a half-smile and draped her forearms over Grey’s shoulders. Her nails were long and red. “Are you coming to join the party, sugar?”

  Dry-mouthed, Corky shook her head.

  “No, she just came to give me a present,” Grey said, turning toward the slinky woman behind him. “Go on in. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  The woman raked her nails across Grey’s bare stomach and licked her lips. “Hurry, then,” she said. Corky caught a glimpse of several people in the background before Grey snagged the door and pulled it shut again. Some of them had been almost naked.

  Grey opened his mouth but nothing came out. He shook his head, looking at Corky.

  “Are those people… are they all… feeding from you?”

  “No. No… it’s… it’s complicated. There’s… we have a few donors in there. I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were coming, or I’d have warned you.”

  “You’re covered in bruises.” Corky stepped forward and pulled Grey by the arm to make him turn. There were cuts and bruises all over his back, as well. Bite marks, too. She drew a sharp breath. “Look at this. My God. You told me… you said… didn’t you say you didn’t like when they use teeth?”

  “Well… I volunteered for it, Corky. I’m here of my own will, right? She might know something about my brother. So. Just forget about it. It’s not your deal to worry about.”

  He turned and stepped back into the apartment, then looked back as he stood in the doorframe. “What did you think? Did you think they would all be the same? Like Allie?” He took another step and stopped again. Now he spoke without turning his head. “You know, your cross doesn’t mean what you think. That inscription, about not sleeping? It’s a reference to the second coming. Advent, right? Hallelujah.”

  He closed the door and Corky heard more screaming and manic laughter. She wasn’t sure which was more unsettling. She reached automatically for the cross, but it wasn’t there. She chewed her lip and stood outside the blue door for a minute or two before she knocked again.

  When Grey opened the door, she stepped inside.

  PART FIVE

  Has he fled into the dark or is he hunted out there, hunted and alone? Could there be others like him?

  It was almost dark in the closet. Warm, too, from the water heater on the other side of the wall. The rumble of the water heater was soothing. Scott closed his eyes, deepening the darkness, and leaned his head back against the rumble. Wetness rolled over a faint pain in his arm, chilling it slightly. He smiled, opening his eyes again into the dim.

  The faint light that crept in from under the door was just enough to see. It always seemed to grow brighter the longer he stayed in the closet. He never had enough time before someone came looking for him. He always had to go too fast. Someday when he was older, he’d be able to stay in the closet for as many hours as he wanted, as many as it took.

  He drew the blade over his arm again, hissing in breath against the pain, feeling a thrill in his groin as his body responded. He raised the cut to his lips and sucked at it, moaning. The ache in his groin grew stronger. Heavenly. He drew his arm away again, studied it.

  There were only four cuts today, so far. Scott didn’t think his dad would notice them. His dad didn’t notice much; he wasn’t like Mom had been. They’d been here for months and he was still like a stranger. But… he had to be careful. Sometimes he got carried away. It was easy to get carried away: the pain made him want more blood, the blood made him want more pain.

  Scott licked his arm again. Not enough. Never enough. He dug the blade across the arm more deeply this time, gasping as the pain and pleasure rolled over him. He ran his tongue over his arm again, with his eyes closed. He heard Todd calling for him distantly.

  This one was too deep; someone was going to notice it. Not his dad, but someone. Scott held the arm out and watched the blood drip down it. He’d have to make up something. He’d tell them he fell in the yard. He’d tell them—

  His thoughts were cut short as Todd jerked the closet door open.

  “Retard. What are you doing in there? We’ve been calling you.”

  Scott slid his arms down and back into shadow and blinked up against the bright light that framed his brother.

  “Nothing,” he said.

  I watch, but I am afraid. If I find my brother, my brother finds me.

  ...in the end, it doesn’t matter. We are both lost. We were both lost from the start.

  About the Author

  Cass McMain was born in Albuquerque and raised in the far North Valley, among the cottonwoods. Her first love was always houseplants, and she now maintains a house full of them.

  Her background as a greenhouse manager led to a long career in garden center management, but when the bottom fell out of the local industry, she took a new path. Or rather, an old path; Cass started writing at the age of six, knocking out stories on her own typewriter.

  While her love of nature came in part from her father, a man with the heart of a farmer and the soul of a philosopher, much of the writing Cass did as a child was done to please her mother, a woman with the heart of a philosopher, the soul of a demon and the unquenchable thirst of the mind reserved for the brilliant.

  Recently, Cass’s writing muse has again been speaking to her: a voice she stopped paying attention to a long time ago. Her plants, some of which she has had since she was nine years old, remain the heart of her life, but now she has a desire to express herself in ways other than caring for them.

  Bowed, but not broken, Cass keeps her eye on the horizon, looking for a greenhouse to manage. Her favorite saying these days is “that was then; this is now.”

  Cass McMain’s first novel, ‘Sunflower’, was published in 2013 by Holland House Books.