One Buck Horror: Volume One
Page 4
He found his father covered in what he could only describe as browned pie crust.
Mr. Pelstok stood over him. When he saw Georgie, he grinned.
“Mom!” Georgie yelled and ran to the kitchen.
When he saw his mother with Mrs. Pelstok, he stopped.
“Georgie!” His mother was flustered. “Where’d you come from?”
“I came in the front. So I wouldn’t bother you if there were guests,” he stammered. “Something’s wrong with Dad!”
His mother came toward him and brushed the hair away from his eyes. “Nothing’s wrong with your father, Georgie. Everything’s fine. You hear me? Everything’s just fine.”
A crumbling sound like crackers hitting the floor came from the living room. Georgie turned to see the crust covering his father break apart.
“Keep him here,” Mrs. Pelstok said as she pushed past the boy and into the living room.
But Georgie didn’t want to stay there. He cried and struggled to get away from his mother but she squeezed his arms tight.
When he finally broke free, Georgie ran to his father and wrapped his arms around his legs.
“Dad! You’re up!”
His father grinned at him, the same way Mr. Pelstok did.
Georgie released his grip and stepped back, but Mrs. Pelstok caught his arms.
“It’s time,” Mrs. Pelstok said to Georgie’s mother and pushed the boy toward his mother.
The pieces of crust liquefied and puddled on the living room floor. The puddles spun, the way the green liquid swirled in the jar.
Georgie left his mother’s side, ran back to his father and shook him. “Dad!”
When the burning started on his leg Georgie looked down and screamed. He stepped in a puddle of the stuff and it crept up his calf, inching its way up like a worm, and settling across his knee.
Georgie screamed again and grabbed at the stuff on his leg but it spread to his fingertips like the green goo from the science experiment set his grandmother gave him at Christmas. Georgie ran for the bathroom, turned on the sink, and splashed water onto his leg. He squirted soap out of a bottle and rubbed his hands together under the water. But the stuff wouldn’t come off. It covered his fingers like the rubber caps his mother used when going through all his father’s papers.
He glanced toward the door and saw Mr. Pelstok and his dad watching him with their blank eyes. Georgie kicked the bathroom door shut and locked it with a click.
The shower curtain moved. He held his breath and pulled it to the side.
Martie was there, unconscious. She lay naked with her arms covering her front. Georgie thought she looked like an angel sleeping. She had a large red welt on her arm, like she’d been given a shot.
Georgie nudged her. “Martie!”
Her head only lolled to the side. But the green stuff peeled off his leg and fingers and transferred itself to her skin. It inched out, spread itself paper thin, and as it did so it turned from green to fleshy beige. It covered her bare arm like a sleeve.
He heard a patter and looked toward the bathroom door. The globules of Mrs. Pelstok’s secret ingredient squeezed their way under the door and scuttled toward the shower stall. Georgie backed up and stepped onto the toilet to get away from them. But they weren’t interested in Georgie. They came for Martie.
Soon Martie’s entire body was coated in a doughy sheath that if Georgie looked close enough, shifted every now and then. Or maybe it was her body inside that shifted as it changed, or baked, the same way his father’s body had, and the same way he figured Mr. Pelstok’s had.
The doorknob clicked and turned. Georgie looked around the room. There was no way out. His teeth chattered and his heart thumped in his chest.
His mother opened the door. A man he’d never seen before stood behind her.
“Georgie?” She walked toward him, picked him up off the toilet. “Don’t worry, Georgie. She’ll be fine.”
Georgie whimpered as his mother escorted him from the bathroom.
“I’d like you to meet Howard,” she said.
Howard smiled at him, but then turned to Mrs. Pelstok. Georgie heard him ask Mrs. Pelstok how long it would take for Martie to be done, because he had to get her home.
Georgie’s mother took him up the stairs and to his bedroom. “You’ve had a long day. You need a nap. I’ll wake you up for dinner. Maybe bring you supper in bed. How would you like that?”
Georgie slept soundly. When he woke it was dark out. A light on the bedside table was on and a tray held a steaming plate of macaroni and cheese.
He sat up and his stomach rumbled. He lifted the fork and poked at his dinner. The noodles moved before the fork touched them. They might have jiggled naturally, but Georgie wasn’t going to take any chances. He set the fork down and opened a dresser drawer. He pulled out a pair of socks, then put them on. He slipped on his sneakers, then a sweatshirt, and grabbed a few nickels from his last lemonade sale.
When the macaroni shifted in a circle on the plate, Georgie was halfway out the window. He was running down the street and didn’t see it slide off the plate and onto the floor.
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Table of Contents
Jenny's House
A Lullaby for Caliban
The Last Nephew
The Cornfield
The Ginger Men