The Dead Boyfriend

by R. L. Stine

  I hope Deena really is returning Blade’s body to the chapel.

  That was my first thought. My second thought was more frightening: Are the police stopping me because they know I killed Blade? Have they finally solved the case? Are they arresting me for murder?

  I gripped the wheel with both hands and clenched my jaw, trying to stop the chills that ran down my body.

  I stared straight ahead until I heard the hard tap on my window. I turned and saw Officer Rivera peering in at me. “Caitlyn? Is that you? Step out of the car, please.”

  42.

  I grabbed the door handle, then hesitated. I spun around and saw my bag on the seat. Was the knife inside it? Or had I left it on the ground near my driveway where it had fallen?

  Rivera tapped impatiently on the window. “Please step out of the car.” He raised a flashlight and sent a white beam of halogen light over my face.

  I shut my eyes and climbed out of the car. I stood there stiffly, blinking in the bright light. “Wh-what’s wrong?” I stammered softly. I tensed myself for the bad news.

  I turned away from the light and glimpsed his partner still behind the wheel of the patrol car. Rivera studied me intently. He had one hand on his holster.

  Ready to arrest me for murder.

  He lowered the light from my face. “Caitlyn, were you aware that you were driving without headlights?”

  “Huh? Excuse me?”

  “Didn’t you notice your headlights were off? Didn’t it seem a little dark to you?”

  “Well…” My throat tightened. I couldn’t speak. I wanted to burst out laughing. I was expecting to be handcuffed and dragged off to prison for murder. And these guys pulled me over because of my headlights.

  I pressed my hand over my mouth so he wouldn’t see my grin.

  “Caitlyn, have you been drinking?” Rivera brought his face close to mine, I guess, to smell my breath.

  “I don’t drink,” I said.

  “It’s pretty late,” he said, his eyes glancing around the dark street. “Where are you going this time of night?”

  “I’m just … coming from a friend’s house,” I said. “My friend Julie.”

  “And where does Julie live?”

  “On Bank Street. A couple of blocks from the mall.”

  He nodded. He took off his cap and swept back his black hair. “Well, I’ll let you go,” he said. “Is everything okay? Did you just forget about the headlights?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I was thinking about school. I just forgot.”

  He pushed down his cap. “Well, be careful, okay? Put on your lights.”

  “Will do,” I said. I watched him walk back to the patrol car. He slid into the passenger seat and closed the door. He and his partner didn’t pull out. I guess they were waiting for me to go first.

  I clicked on the headlights. Then I shifted into drive and drove away. Too late to try to catch up with Deena. I turned at the next block and made my way toward home.

  A heavy wave of dread rolled over me. My stomach began to ache. I knew my parents were waiting up for me. How would I explain tonight to them? What was I going to say?

  I’m sure they were mortified to have that emotional confrontation with me in front of Julie’s parents. And how could I explain it? As I pulled up the driveway, my brain was doing jumping jacks in my head, leaping from thought to thought until I felt like my head was about to blow apart.

  Sure enough, the front door swung open before I even climbed out of the car, and Mom and Dad came rushing at me. “Are you okay? Where did you go? How do you feel?”

  I had the car door open only a few inches. “At least, let me out of the car,” I said.

  They obediently stepped back. I climbed out, straightening my top over my jeans. They put their arms around my shoulders and we walked into the house in a line.

  “Can you explain to me what’s going on?” Dad demanded after we had settled on facing couches in the den.

  “I’m perfectly fine,” I said. “I’m just tired, that’s all. Way tired. But I’m okay. Seriously.” Especially since Blade is dead again and won’t be coming to haunt me.

  “Do you expect us to believe that?” Mom said, arms crossed tightly in front of her. She’s the tough one. I knew I’d have trouble getting past her.

  “Well … yes,” I said. “I do expect you to believe me. I’m not a liar, Mom. I think you know that.”

  She ignored that. “Where did you go?” she demanded, eyes piercing mine. I could practically feel the heat from them. “Where did you go after you ran out of Julie’s?”

  I shrugged. “Just drove around.”

  “Caitlyn, you have to explain what’s going on,” Dad said, his fingers tapping the couch arm. “What did you tell Julie? What did you say to get your friend so upset?”

  “You have to tell us,” Mom insisted. “You can’t just shrug it off and not say anything.”

  “Look, it was a joke,” I said. “I made up a story about Blade Hampton and—”

  “That boy who died?” Mom interrupted. She shook her head. “That was so sad.”

  “Yes, Blade Hampton,” I said. I shut my eyes and rubbed my temples. “It was a joke. I told Julie a story about him and … I forgot she doesn’t have a sense of humor. I guess she thought I was serious.”

  They both stared at me in silence. Were they buying my lame story?

  No. Not at all.

  Too late to make up a new one.

  A hush fell over the room. Dad tapped the couch arm rhythmically. Mom didn’t move. She finally broke the silence. “Well, Caitlyn … your joke must not have been too funny. Whatever you said to her got her so upset, she called us and said you were having a breakdown.”

  I forced a laugh. “Breakdown? What’s a breakdown? You mean like a car?”

  “Don’t be glib,” Dad said sharply. “Your friend was really upset and worried about you.”

  “Sorry,” I muttered. “But you’ve got to believe me. It was all a joke. I guess Julie took it the wrong way. I’m perfectly okay. I’m not a wacko. I haven’t gone berserk or anything.”

  I started to stand up. Maybe I could make it to the stairs and escape to my room. I could see from their faces that they were unsatisfied.

  My parents aren’t dumb. In fact, they’re really smart. And they knew they weren’t getting a very good explanation from me. They knew they weren’t getting any explanation at all.

  “You’d better go to bed,” Dad said, motioning to the stairs. His expression was suddenly sad, his eyes weary, as if I had disappointed him.

  “But we’re not finished,” Mom said, jumping up and leaning over me. “We’re not finished, Caitlyn. We’ll come back to this, hear me. We’ll talk when you’re not so exhausted.”

  “Good,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say. I stopped at the den doorway and turned back to them. “Sorry,” I murmured. “Sorry you got that phone call from Julie and had to run over there. Sorry. Seriously. Sorry if you were worried about me…” My voice trailed off. “Goodnight.” I grabbed the banister and pulled myself up the stairs.

  I paused at the top of the stairs. I could still hear Mom and Dad, both talking heatedly in the den. I heard Dad say, “Teenagers all have secrets. But she’ll be okay.”

  Secrets? He didn’t know the half of it.

  I picked up a stray sock that someone must have dropped in the hall and carried it to my room. I closed the bedroom door carefully behind me. The window was closed and the air was stuffy, but I didn’t bother to open it. I began to pace tensely back and forth. My room is small. Not much room to pace. I felt like a caged animal.

  How would I ever get to sleep?

  If Blade was safely back in his coffin, maybe I could begin to rest again. I’d be in even better shape if I knew his coffin was deep in the ground.

  But I had no way of knowing Deena’s real intentions. I didn’t trust her. I knew she was insane about Blade. But … insane enough to awake him again? To try her magic on him one more tim
e?

  “No. No way,” I muttered to myself.

  I had no way to get in touch with her. She wasn’t responding to texts or phone calls. It was too late to sneak out and drive to her house. I just had to pray that she returned Blade’s body as she said she would.

  I changed into a nightshirt, clicked off the light, and climbed into bed. My hands felt clammy. My heart was still racing. My mind skipped from thought to thought, from ugly picture to ugly picture.

  I killed someone. I killed someone tonight.…

  I knew it would take a long time to fall asleep, Diary, and it did. I lay staring at the shadows on the window for at least an hour. Somehow, I finally felt myself fading into unconsciousness.

  I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. I must have slept a long time.

  When I opened my eyes, red morning sunlight filled the window and poured onto the foot of my bed. I blinked, and slowly realized I’d been awakened by a sound. I started to pull myself up, listening hard.

  Yes. A tapping sound. Tap tap tap. Soft but insistent.

  Tapping on the window. I raised my eyes. A shadow appeared in the red sunlight.

  I held my breath. Terror made me grip the bed sheet with both hands.

  Tap tap tap.

  Someone tapping on my bedroom window. Just inches away from me.

  Blade!

  43.

  The tapping repeated, but the shadow vanished from the window glass. I forced myself to sit up.

  Oh, please, no. Go away, Blade. Please go away.

  Another drumbeat of soft taps.

  Shielding my eyes from the bright sun with one hand, I peered out.

  “Blade?”

  I uttered a long sigh of relief.

  Not Blade.

  A woodpecker perched on the siding beside the window, pecked away, tapping its steady rhythm.

  If I was in a normal state of mind, I would have remembered. This wasn’t the first morning that woodpecker decided to have breakfast right outside my room.

  But I wasn’t in a normal state of mind. And as I got dressed for school, I wondered sadly if I’d ever be in a normal state again.

  * * *

  I avoided Julie and Miranda at school. I saw them watching me from across the hall before homeroom. They were whispering, their faces close together, peering at me as if I were crazy or some strange new animal species.

  Julie started toward me. Maybe she wanted to apologize again for getting my parents on my case. But I wasn’t ready to tell her everything was hunky-dory again. I felt betrayed. I knew I’d probably get over that. But not yet.

  I slammed my locker door and hurried off in the other direction, leaving them both open-mouthed behind me. I stepped into the classroom and searched up and down for Blade. Can you blame me?

  He’d surprised me in school before, the day I tried to read my violin essay. I had no guarantee he wouldn’t be back to haunt me. No guarantee he wouldn’t be waiting for me, waiting to grab me in English class, or my Advanced Math class, or in the library where I had my fourth-period study hall.

  I knew I had to stay alert all day, Diary. It wasn’t easy. It was a horrible way to spend the day, always frightened, never able to relax or let my guard down for a second.

  At lunch period, I grabbed a tuna fish sandwich in the lunchroom and carried it outside to the parking lot. I didn’t want to run into Julie and Miranda. We always sat together at a table on the far side, and I figured it would be less awkward for all three of us if I ate outside by myself.

  It was a warm day, with strong sunlight making it feel more like summer than spring. The daffodils behind the school, bright as sunshine, fluttered in a soft breeze. Two squirrels scampered together along the edge of the parking lot.

  I leaned against the trunk of my car and tried to eat the sandwich. But my throat was dry and I didn’t bring anything to drink. I wasn’t hungry anyway. My stomach was knotted tight.

  Suddenly, I knew what I had to do. The rest of the school day would be a nightmare if I continued to expect seeing Blade. I couldn’t go back inside.

  I climbed into my car and tossed the uneaten sandwich on the passenger seat. I fumbled the key from my bag and started the engine.

  The North Hills Chapel was a short drive from school. My plan was to drive to the chapel and make sure that Blade had been returned. Once I knew that for sure, I could return to school and maybe … just maybe … my life would start to return to normal.

  When I arrived at the chapel, I found the front doors open. Blue-uniformed workers were setting up ladders on one wall, preparing to clean the stained glass windows that ran along the ceiling.

  I started to the front, searching for someone who could help me. And nearly got tangled in a wide canvas tarp two men were spreading over the aisle.

  “Is anyone here?” My voice came out louder than I’d planned. Several of the workers turned to look at me.

  A gray-haired woman in a maid’s uniform had been hidden behind the podium on the altar. She poked her head up, a dust cloth in her hand. “Can I help you?”

  I nodded. “Yes. I’m trying to get some information.”

  Before she could answer, the minister appeared from the back hall. Reverend Preller was wearing the same brown sport jacket he had worn at Blade’s funeral. He carried a clipboard in one hand and had a pen tucked behind one ear.

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “Yes?”

  A crash behind me made me jump. I turned to see that one of the workers had dropped a bucket. The soapy water flowed over the carpeted aisle.

  The minister scratched the back of his hair. “As you can see, we’re closed today. But if you need information—?”

  I suddenly realized I didn’t know how to ask my question. I couldn’t just blurt out “Is Blade Hampton in his coffin?” I stood there with my mouth hanging open, thinking hard.

  “I … I came to ask about Blade Hampton,” I finally managed to say.

  His eyes flashed. His features tightened. I’d definitely grabbed his attention.

  “The funeral was last Saturday. Are you a relative?” he asked, studying me intently.

  “Yes,” I lied. “He … he was my cousin.” My heart began to thud. Did he believe me?

  “Well, I can’t really tell you—” he started.

  “I just need to know where he’s buried,” I said. “I … My family got to Shadyside late. And we need to know…”

  He scratched the back of his hair again. “Buried?”

  I nodded, biting my bottom lip.

  Please answer. Please tell me that he has been buried.

  “Miss, have you talked to Blade’s parents? If so, you know they are in shock. You know they are beyond themselves with grief.”

  “W-We … we just got here,” I stammered. “We haven’t had a chance—”

  “Blade hasn’t been buried,” Preller said. “Because his body has been stolen.”

  44.

  “Oh, wow.” I couldn’t hide my horror and disappointment. I could feel the blood rushing to my face. My knees started to fold. Deena didn’t return him to his coffin.

  I don’t know what Reverend Preller thought. I really didn’t care. Blade was out there somewhere. And I knew he wouldn’t rest till he dragged me with him, dragged me to my death.

  “Sorry for the shock,” he said. But I had already spun away from him and was running full speed, running past the startled workers.

  To my car. I slammed the door. Started it up. Pounded my foot on the gas until the engine roared. I wanted to roar along with it. I wanted to roar and scream and howl like a wild animal.

  I don’t want to die, Blade. I don’t want to join you.

  But I knew he was waiting somewhere for me. Deena Fear was a liar. Not just a liar, she was evil. She couldn’t give up her desperate hope that Blade would decide he wanted her instead of me.

  She couldn’t give up.…

  I pounded the steering wheel with both fists. Pounded till both hands ached. One of the chapel work
ers stopped to peer in at me. I turned my head away, and he kept walking.

  I didn’t know if I was more frightened or angry. I only knew I was about to go insane, totally berserk.

  It was time to tell my parents. I had no choice. It was time to tell them the whole story. I knew it would be impossible for them to believe what had happened in the last few weeks.

  But I had to try.…

  I knew they were both home. Mom thought she might be coming down with the flu, and Dad took a personal day so he could stay home and take care of her.

  I burst into the house, my head spinning. Where do I start? How do I start to tell them what has happened?

  I didn’t want to burst into tears and be unable to talk. But as I ran through the house, I wasn’t sure I could hold myself together.

  “Mom? Dad?” I found them sitting side by side on the couch in the den. I roared into the room. Opened my mouth to try to start my story. Stopped when I saw what they had on their laps.

  And let out a horrified scream: “What are you doing with that?”

  45.

  I stood there, my finger trembling as I pointed at my diary. My diary sitting open in front of them.

  “How did you get that? What are you doing with that?” I screamed.

  Dad went pale. Mom was the first to speak. “Cathy-Ann, I know we shouldn’t have read it. I know we invaded your privacy. But it was open on your desk and … and…”

  “We were so worried about you.” Dad finished her sentence.

  “B-B-But—” I sputtered.

  “We had to find out what has been troubling you,” Mom said. “Cathy-Ann, we had no idea. Reading your diary … So much violence. And killing. And crazy things happening.”

  “Your diary reads like a horror story,” Dad said. His eyes were wet. His chin trembled. He was as pale as the sofa cushion.

  “It is a horror story!” I cried, rushing over to them, standing above them.”

  “Why did you change your name?” Mom demanded. “Why did you call yourself Caitlyn?”

  I let out a long sigh. “Because it’s just a story, Mom. It isn’t my diary. It isn’t a diary at all.”

  Mom blinked. “But Cathy-Ann … all your friends are in it. Julie and Miranda. They’re real people. And your teachers are in it. And—”