Evil Heights, Book I: The Midnight Flyer

by Michael Swanson

Patty was laughing raucously, her mouth open and her body shaking convulsively.

  "Well Sue, she screams, lets go of the sprayer, and drops Mrs. Ringle's head down into the sink. The sprayer, it takes off on its own and starts wiggling and jumping, water streaming everywhere."

  "Like a Water-Wiggle!” said Lee.

  Maggie wagged her arm and flung her fingers out to illustrate the effect. Patty joined in with both arms, food from her fingers flying everywhere.

  "Poor little Sue,” Maggie started up again, her true Southern accent starting to show through now that she was excited, “she about has a conniption fit. She's terrified of bugs and stuff. She flung her arm up, and the lizard flew off and lands all the way over on Flo Thompson, smacking down on her cheek as she's sitting there under the dryer. Then Sue lost her balance, and her box slipped out from under her, and she fell over screaming to high heaven. She tried to grab the edge of the back table but missed, just catching the edge and getting a handful of Peggy's ashtray so the filthy thing flips up in the air and cigarette butts and wrappers go flyin'. Flo, who must have been kinda dozing, screamed when she seen what was crawlin’ on her face, and she tries to stand up, but she's still under the dryer so she about knocks herself out. The lizard jumped off when Flo whacked her head, and it starts leaping from woman to woman down the row of driers. By now, I'm tellin’ y'all, everyone's screaming and swatting at the lizard with magazines or their purses, whatever they can grab. Margaret Ringle is too far back in the chair and too heavy to pull her head up out of the sink, and the water from the sprayer is shooting up against the side of her head and splashing out all over. She's screaming the loudest and kicking her feet up and thrashing with her arms yelling she's gonna drown."

  "I saw London. I saw France,” said Patty. “And guess what, she didn't have panties on, she had—"

  "Patty!” Maggie tried to shush the excited child, but too late.

  "She was wearin’ a diaper!"

  "A diaper?” Lee echoed, as loudly as his sister had screamed it.

  Ted looked to Maggie who nodded shamefacedly.

  Lee and Patty were in hysterics, with Patty the loudest, letting out loud shrieking peals between brief breaks to gasp in more air.

  "Y'all have never seen such a mess,” said Maggie, trying to act serious, but obviously delighted in the telling. As always, when Maggie became excited her efforts to maintain a high-toned level of speech failed, and her deep southern roots shown through. If she became seriously flustered she might even back slide into using an “Ain't” or a “fixin’ to."

  "What happened to the poor lizard?” asked Ted.

  "He got away!” pealed Patty.

  Maggie continued, a flush rising to her cheeks. “It was Peggy who finally turned off the sprayer and got Mrs. Ringle's head up out of the sink. The floor was so wet and slippery; Peggy had to hold on to the chair just to keep her feet under her. And y'all should have seen Margaret Ringle when she sat up. She had this soggy, gray ash grit in her hair and streamin’ down her face. Red as a beet, too. Her nostrils were flarin’ out as big as pie plates, and like a baby that's fixin’ to cry, she was puffin’ in and out, buildin’ up steam. In the mean time, Millie was seein’ to poor Sue who had banged herself pretty hard when she fell. For a moment, everyone forgot ‘bout Flo ‘til we realized she was slumped down in her chair all woozy like."

  "She was wearin’ a diaper?” asked Lee. “Like a baby's diaper? With pins and everything?"

  "A poopy old diaper,” said Patty, holding her nose.

  Lee couldn't help but break out laughing, though he couldn't tell if it was the thought of Margaret Ringle caught wearing a diaper or Patty's food spattered face that was the funniest.

  "Well Mrs. Ringle, she's soakin’ wet and puffin',” Maggie continued. “She's still sittin’ there and Peggy picks a cigarette butt off her neck and that set her off. Y'all should of seen. She slapped that butt out of Peggy's hand and starts right in hollerin', saying she's gonna’ sue everybody. It wasn't ‘til she started to wriggle out of the chair that she realized her dress was up ‘round her hips. Now she's even madder than ever!"

  "She looked at me, and I sat real still,” said Patty, instantly looking serious.

  "I'm telling ya'll she was fit to chew nails,” said Maggie. As soon as she was out of the chair, she looked down to Millie who was still leanin’ over Sue and pointed at her. Then she said somethin’ about the place being a pig sty, no wonder it was full of vermin."

  Ted leaned back in reaction to this. He knew Millie was famous for her temper as well.

  "Millie, now I'm tellin’ y'all, she got mad,” said Maggie forcefully. “She lets go of Sue and stood up, comin’ nose to nose with Margaret. I declare, for a moment I thought she was gonna slap her face. But Millie must've still been thinkin’ ‘cause she didn't. She just hollers for Margaret to shut her mouth, and I'm tellin’ you, you could have heard a pin drop.

  "Well, Margaret Ringle was fit to spit. She's drippin’ and standin’ there glarin’ at Millie, tryin’ to think of somethin’ else to say. Finally she bursts out with somethin’ ‘bout how the lizard must have come up from out of the sink. That it must have been in the drain and crawled out when Sue turned the water on."

  Maggie drew her face back in mock horror. “Well you can imagine Millie. She says she's seen nits and lice and occasionally a full-blown batch of body crabs in people's hair, but never a lizard. She poked Margaret in the side and asked her if she's got any rats stuffed up in her dress. Then she sniffs the air and asks if maybe she's got a dead dog in there too. Well, Margaret, she threw her cape down on the floor and grabbed up her purse and stomped out the door never even askin’ after Flo or Sue. Her hair was all hangin’ down and stringy makin’ her look like she was bald. I do declare!” Maggie did her Peggy imitation again. “She was a sight!"

  "Will Sue and Flo be all right?” asked Ted, holding both arms out waving downward, trying to signal to Patty to try to settle down.

  "I'd imagine so,” replied Maggie. “Sue just banged her hip when she fell, and Flo whacked her head. They're both probably nursing a pretty good knot right now. But in different places."

  "And the lizard, got away?” asked Ted.

  Maggie shrugged and nodded. “The best I know it did. It was a pretty good size too, green with one of those pink pouches under its neck.” Maggie shook her head. “I can't possibly imagine how someone could have somethin’ like that in her hair and not know it. Not for the life of me.” Maggie took a forkful of greens. “I'm tellin’ y'all that's gonna be an afternoon no one's gonna forget."

  Lee was careful not to look at Maggie, while he thought, “least of all me.” He was already thinking about the reaction he would get from Ronnie when he told him the good news.

  "Well how's the work going over at the Ballard place?” Ted asked, finishing the last of his plate and settling back in his chair. “You should be about done?"

  "Another day, maybe two,” replied Lee.

  "How much you think you'll get?"

  "At five dollars a day, maybe forty dollars."

  His dad whistled. “That's a lot of money."

  "It's a lot of work,” said Lee, finishing up his plate. “I'll be glad to have it done with. The place gives me the creeps. Do you know Mrs. Ballard goes out and sits in that little house almost all day all by herself?"

  Patty was riveted to her brother. There were few other subjects more popular with the kids in Lenoir than the Ballard house.

  "What'd you see, Lee?” she asked in a hush.

  "Lee didn't see anything,” broke in Maggie. She pushed her chair back forcefully and stood, snatching Patty's plate out from below her chin. “Lee didn't see a thing. Who's up for dessert?"

  "Me!” said Lee and Patty at the same instant.

  Brother and sister looked squarely at each other. They'd said the same thing at the same time, now the race was on.

  "Jinx, owe me a coke,” Patty and Lee slurred the words, racing neck and neck. “On
e, two three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten,” they counted so fast the numbers blurred together.

  "I win!” screamed Patty. “You owe me a Coke!"

  "I won,” argued Lee.

  They both looked at their dad.

  "It was a tie,” he said.

  Patty stuck her tongue out at Lee.

  Lee shook his head and looked to his dad for help. None was coming.

  "I did see something at the Ballard's today,” he continued now that Maggie had gone into the kitchen, a load of dirty plates stacked up in her hands. “I was coming back up from the river with a ton of dirt, and I stopped for a second by the little house."

  Ted was leaning back in his chair, but paying as much attention as Patty.

  "I saw these faces in the window, and then Old Lady Ballard came up, staring at me like the devil.” He paused for effect and looked squarely at Patty. “She looked like she was dead."

  Patty shivered.

  "Now Lee,” said his dad. “Why do you want to go and say a thing like that?"

  "'Cause it's true. Her face was all gray and her eyes all yellow.” It was Lee's turn to shiver, a reaction that wasn't lost on his dad. “I swear. That's what I saw."

  Maggie came out of the kitchen with four bowls of cherry Jello.

  "Mama!” Patty said, terrified. “Lee said Mrs. Ballard's dead!"

  "I did not!” defended Lee, wincing at Maggie's cross look. “I said she looked like she was dead."

  Maggie placed the plates in front of each person and slipped into her seat. Her eyes told Lee how little she liked this path the conversation had taken.

  "You've got to remember, she's very old,” Maggie said to Patty.

  "But you should've seen her,” said Lee. “She was all—"

  "You already told us,” broke in Ted. “If she was sitting in that little house, all cooped up with how hot it was today, it's a wonder she didn't have a stroke. I don't doubt that she looked pasty."

  "Dad, she was—"

  "Eat your Jello,” broke in Maggie, effectively ending the conversation about Mrs. Ballard.

  Lee managed to corral a piece of the wiggling stuff stabbing it with his fork. Being careful so the piece wouldn't slide off, he carefully got it to his mouth. It was icy cold and squished with a sharp burst of tangy cherry.

  Patty, of course, just used her fingers.

  Everyone was quiet for the first time that evening as they enjoyed the treat, Jello on a summer's evening.

  From where Lee was sitting he could see out of the big picture window. The sky would be going gray soon, and the crickets were just tuning up. The attic fan was sucking in the cooler outside air, carrying with it the fragrances of magnolia blossoms, fat, green leaves, and the dusty road, along with the soothing cool of the evening creeping in.

  Lee could remember a few random moments from throughout his life, as clearly as if they were the here and now, everything entirely vivid and real. Usually it wasn't anything great or important, just certain memories of times, places, smells, people's faces, or feelings that stayed real and alive regardless of how many years had gone by. Like one time as a really little kid, he was standing at the back of the ice cream man's truck when he opened the door and a smoky, frosty chill fell out. There were white boxes in there, and there was a big orange double Popsicle painted on the inside of that door. God, he could still taste it. Or another time, being at home sick with the flu in second grade, and watching the rain fall outside through the window of his room. It was just the rain and an occasional car sloshing through, but he could remember it perfectly. He had a feeling that this was one of those moments. Some day, he'd be sixty years old and still be able to remember the cold squish of that one cube of tart cherry Jello, as it dissolved in his mouth, and the comfortable feel of his family all together around the table on this one warm June's evening.

  Ted finished his bowl off first, leaning back in his chair and stiffening his arms against the table to hold himself out.

  "Excellent Maggie. Absolutely the best,” he smiled.

  There was something else in his smile and a glint in his eye that Lee noticed passing between his dad and Maggie. Maggie caught it, and slipped in a little sly smile at the corner of her mouth and looked back to her Jello, not knowing Lee had seen.

  Lee knew it would be closed doors tonight.

  "What do you say, we drive over to Patterson's and take a look at the bikes?” suggested Ted.

  Lee's mouth was full, so he vigorously nodded.

  "Can I go too?” squealed Patty.

  "No, Patty,” Maggie answered, lighting her after dinner cigarette. “You stay here and keep me company. We'll let the boys go out together."

  Patty put on a pout.

  At that instant one of the three light bulbs in the overhead lamp, which hung above the table, made a ‘tink’ sound and went out. Another in the table lamp by the couch in the den did the same thing.

  For a second all was silent as everyone looked at the dark lamps.

  "I don't believe it,” said Maggie, looking up into the large western wagon wheel styled lamp, which hung down over the table. “That makes seven bulbs this week."

  "In that lamp?” Ted asked, reaching up to tap the hot bulb with his fingernail.

  "No. Everywhere. Two in the kitchen, one in the bath, one in our room and one in Patty's room. I put the last one we had in Patty's lamp this morning."

  "I guess I'd better pick up some more bulbs while we're at Patterson's,” said Ted scooting out his chair. “You ready Lee? Patterson's closes at 8:00."

  He didn't have to ask twice.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: IT'S A SCHWINN

  Lee jumped in the car and immediately rolled the window down, hanging his right arm outside. His dad fired up the big motor, gunned it just for fun, and backed the Ford out of the drive. Ted had swung his right arm around over the back of the seat, and was looking up into the rear view mirror as he whipped the car down the drive and out into the road. The transmission made a high-pitched whine, as though something inside was moving at a great speed. Lee loved that high, winding sound, always wondering what it could possibly be inside that was making such a noise.

  Lurching to a stop, Ted took his eyes off the mirror and turned all the way around. “Hey, look at the girl over at the Riley's."

  Lee looked across through the driver's side window and could see Phoebe playing with Evie out in the grass.

  Phoebe looked up at the car and noticing the occupants looking at her, she waved.

  Ted turned back and grinned at Lee raising his eyebrows and wiggling them lecherously like Groucho Marx's. “She's a cutie,” he said, fulfilling Lee's prediction. “Have y'all met?"

  Lee touched eyes with his dad for but a second, but that was enough. Lee's grin broke out, with no way to stop it. “Yeah dad, we've met."

  Lee waved back, and Ted gave her his cool and nonchalant twist of the wrist.

  Ted brought his hand back in gripping the wheel with his left and swung the shift arm on the column up to put it in first, then dumped the clutch and the Ford jumped forward, gravel flying out from behind the rear tires.

  "Yeah,” Ted fixed his eyes on the road and pulled the lever down to shift into second. “Did you get her name?"

  "Phoebe,” replied Lee. “She's here for a while helping out with the new babies."

  "Lord, they do have themselves a load over there,” said Ted shaking his head. “I wouldn't trade places with them for a million bucks."

  The warm air rushed in through the open windows as the car picked up speed. Ted liked to drive fast when Maggie wasn't around.

  They had already whipped past the tree line between their property and the Ballard's when Ted swung the shifter up into third. Reflected in the rearview mirror, Lee could see the great, white cloud of dust they were kicking up billowing out behind.

  The glimpse of the Ballard House he caught, way off to the right, winked at him from amongst its spread of mangled trees.

  For a m
oment, Lee thought of telling his dad about his fright on the way to the store last week, but he just as quickly decided not to, not so much because he was afraid his dad wouldn't believe him, but because if he hadn't have been the one it happened to, he wouldn't have believed it either.

  Ted kept picking up speed. They hurtled past the ruined houses with their exposed inner walls and caved in roofs, the car, streaming dust behind like a vapor trail. The looming thatch of barren trees sticking up out of the swamp to the left flashed by like so many pickets on the side of the highway.

  Lee loved going fast. The car roared, flying down the road, Ted never letting up on the accelerator. The highway was coming up quickly, but his dad sat still, acting like all they had before them was open road.

  Just before his dad hit the brakes, Lee chickened and grabbed the dash. The car skidded along in the gravel, only just barely stopping in time before coming up on the paved highway.

  Lee and his dad's grins were carbon copies of each other. In seconds, the cloud of dust following caught up and passed the car swirling around to either side.

  "Hot damn!” Ted said, waiting for the dust cloud to clear. “Man, I love a V-eight!"

  Gunning the engine, while waiting for a break in the heavy evening traffic, Ted let the clutch in and out slowly so that the car kept rocking forward and then slipping back. A slot opened up in the line of cars heading north, and Ted dumped the clutch. The Ford jumped out, its tires spewing gravel until they hit the asphalt and screamed as they caught. Speed shifting without using the clutch, Ted dropped it into second, catching another squeal of rubber.

  Lee kept his arms stretched out, hands on the dash, loving every second of it. Looking to his right as the car fishtailed, Lee could see some people in Little's parking lot staring at them as they roared away.

  The buildings flew past on the right as Ted shifted into third.

  "Keen-o, Dad!” Lee's grin spread even wider.

  Ted was forced to let off the gas before he ran up on the car in front. Settling in and keeping his eyes on the road, he assumed his usual hot-rodding position, slunked down in the seat with his left arm dangling out of the open window. He always wore his hair long, but slicked it back in a ducktail, consuming the better part of a tube of Brylcream every week. Lee could always remember his dad coming out of the bathroom after a fresh application and saying, “A little dab will do ya,” and then adding a “ha-chi-chi-cha” like Jimmy Durante.